ACT · II

ACT · IISCENE · 1Night. The garden, at Laura’s windows, which are nearly to the ground. L. a wall with door in it leading from the park without. Enter by door in travelling costume FREDERICK and TRISTRAM carrying a small portmantle. F. stays behind to lock the door.TRISTRAM(coming to front).Here’sa journey: twenty miles about and home again: and no lady. Were it not for the letter I found on the path, I should hold to my opinion that it is all a make-believe, and that there is no lady at all: and that my master wrote that first letter to himself, making the appointment to meet himself, ... he returns so pleased, with his head in the air, like the best satisfied lover. I have a fool for my master. He is but a fool, tho’he needs no humouring. (To F. who approaches.) Well, now we are at home again, sir; and as it were partly returned to our senses....FREDERICK.Silence, Tristram. Take off your boots.T.Pray, sir....900F.Not a word. Obey me.T.Heaven help us! what is this for?F.Silence. Are they off?T.They are coming.F.Hark now what you have to do. Cross the grass silently, unlock my door, creep upstairs like a thief, and sit in my chamber without a movement till I come.T.The grass is like a sponge. I have begun to catch cold already: I am just going to sneeze.910F.Sneeze, and I’ll strangle you.T.Is this your treatment for all my services?F.Your service is your duty to obey:And once you served me well: of late you are grownQuestionous and prying; which I have so far borne,Because I have been in doubt whether it were bestTo thrash you or discharge you.T.And no wonder neither. Thus the world will repay devotion. Can I see you so blind to your good fortune, and when heaven’s door stands open....920F.Heaven’s door! what is this?T.You do not know.F.Say what you mean.T.This court, wherein you serve and get no thanks,You might rule and be thanked.F.Just as I thought;Ere I dismiss you I shall tell the CountessYour insolence. The whipping you will getWill save me trouble.T.I pray you on my knees.F.Get up, fool, lest you sneeze. And would you escape929Your rich deservings, be off.T.Betray me not, sir: I will obey you better.F.Silence: go do as I bid you. Begone, and take your boots.[Exit T.So my man knows her secret. ’Tis high timeThat Laura and I were off. This salves my conscienceFrom any scruple. ’Tis a rule of artTo make obstructions serve: and my chief hindrance,Diana’s passion, can but urge me on.So the mischance, which drew me hence to-night,Hath brought me hither a more secret way.The night is still. I would there were a wind.And there’s the clock. (Clock strikes.) I’ll wait941Till it hath sounded.... No light.... I’ll tap.(Goes to window and taps. Laura comes to window and opens.)F.All’s well. ’Tis I.LAURA.Frederick, not gone to Milan?F.I escaped but with a thousand torments—May I come in?L.We can talk here.F.The nightIs very still, our voices will be heard:They run along the wall.L.Then I’ll come out.F.We shall be seen.L.The maids are all abed.There’s none to see us; and the moon is clouded.We’ll walk by the yew hedge. Give me your hand.F.’Tis but one step.L.I know.(Comes down.)F.My kiss.(Kisses her.)950L.O Frederick,You have broken your own rule, and kissed me thrice.F.One kiss a day, with two days in arrear,Makes three.L.Alas! I thought ’twas love’s excess,And still I am kissed by rule.F.And be content, love,To keep the little rules we make ourselves,Since thou must break such great ones; and canst dareDeceive the Countess, disobey thy father,And brave the world’s opinion: all which sinsI come to stablish in thee. There’s now no choice960But fly with me or take St. Nicholas.L.That name is desperation. Have you no planTo save me?F.If you dare fly with me to Milan.L.To-night?F.Would ’twere to-night.L.But when, love, when?F.Trust me to find the time.L.And why to Milan?F.My friend the Duke, being now away from home,Lends me his palace. All we else should lack,Appointment and conveyance, he supplies.We have his countenance now, his influence after,To appease your father and sister.L.Are you such friends?F.There cannot be two hearts in all the world971Nearer-familiar than are his and mine.L.You never told me.F.I had not heard from himNow for three years.L.’Tis strange.F.Nay, ’tis not strange.Ours was a boyhood friendship; such affectionBorn in life’s spring is perfect with the flower.The memory is a binding intimacy,Which grows as we grow from it: in its strengthIs our lost tenderness; its truth is provedBy every lie the world has given our hopes:980Absence and age best feed it. We rememberFirst ecstasies, and the unreserved embraceOf mutual spirits, and worship the remembrance.The Duke and I are strangers in the world,Courteous acquaintance in society,But to ourselves, twin individual gods.L.Alas, poor me!F.Can it displease you, love,I have such a friend?L.Ere it is too late, Frederick,Think if you love me enough.F.Why, ’tis a questionTo make me think you think I think I do not.990L.Indeed, ere I consent to be your wife....F.You have consented, Laura.L.Nay, but hear me.Before we marry, you must know a thing,Which, since it might lessen your love for me,Shall not be kept till after.F.Then tell it quickly.L.What you have said, and what I have to tell,So dwarfs my little humble plant of love.F.Tell it.L.Diana loves you.F.You know it too!L.You know it!F.I!—Why, Laura, is this your secret?L.I see you have guessed it; yet, perhaps, for thinkingThou shouldst be loyal where thy faith is cherished,1001Thou hast never weighed her claim with mine; and thatI’d have thee do. Look to thine interest:For loving women differ not so muchBut all may make good wives; and whatsoe’erThou thinkest to see in me, Frederick, I am sureI lack all excellence. There’s nothing in meWhy I should have preferment o’er another,And least of all of her who can boast lovelinessTo match her love; and add those other gifts,1010Which are necessities to one like thee.Thou, with high friendships shouldst have power and station,And fitted for the fairest use of wealth,Thou art wronged in the want of it: and, Love, I love theeSo better than myself, that I would see theeHappily another’s rather than my ownWith the reproach of selfishness, the knowledgeThat thou wert sacrificed for my poor love.F.If women differ little, what of men?St. Nicholas loves you, and would give you rank.1020L.Thou knowst thou wrongst me, Frederick, turning thusMy love of thee to banter of my love.F.I only banter where you dare be grave.L.Because thou knowest, Love, I desire not wealth.My happiness would be to live with theeAnd for thee: but to thee what can I bring?Think not because I wish thee fortunate,That I forget my hope, or slight the treasureSo much desirèd of my loving soul.F.And for that loving soul you bid me take1030Some fifty thousand ducats by the year,A major-domo, and a heap of thingsThat are a proverb for their emptiness!L.Diana’s love, I said; that with the ducats.F.Well, what doth all this come to when ’tis told?First is Diana’s love. Diana’s loveIs nothing, for I do not love Diana.Next are the ducats: fifty thousand ducats.They are nothing either—by the year! Why, Laura,Were’t fifty thousand ducats by the day1040’Twere nothing to me. You can little guessMy prodigal soul. I should expend it allAnd sit at home and be as poor as ever.L.How could you spend so much?F.Nothing is much.Man’s capabilities being infiniteAnd his state pitiful, the simplest schemeFor bettering any faculty he hath,Would eat up all the money in the world.L.But to use riches rightly—F.I have no desireThat earth can satisfy, but one; and thatShall I play false to?1050L.Nay; I trust you well.F.Then waste no more the precious moments, Laura,To question the great blessing we enjoy.Our hours will all be as this hour to-night;Either to step with in eternityTowards our perfection with unwavering will,Or with a questioning purpose let it slide,And leave us far behind. A man’s desiresAre his companions and by them he is known;But he himself is what he grows to beUsing his time.1060L.How best to use it now?F.First to assure thee, dearest, that all the joysI have had or hoped are nothing to thy love.And next, that we may make it sure, I ask theeTo say thou’lt fly with me.L.When, Frederick, when?I fear ’twill never be; we have but two days.F.Therefore be ready at any moment, Laura.All’s fixed except the time: that must dependUpon occasion. If I cannot see thee,Ricardo, whom I have made my confidant,1070Will bring thee word. He cannot be suspected,And thou mayst trust him.L.Dare I tell my father?F.That’s my chief scruple; and yet we dare not tell him.If only Providence would give him backHis hearing for one day! After one daySpent with St. Nicholas, I should not fearTo broach our matter.L.He has the marriage contractReady to sign.F.Not as he thinks. By luckThey entrusted it to me; and as I have drawn itHe cannot sign it. He must give it me back,And that will make delay.1080L.Of all these chances,If any one go wrong....F.All will go well.See, here’s my portrait, Laura, which I promised:’Tis framed like yours; that is its only merit.L.O, let me have it.F.Take it. That you should careTo look upon it, makes me ashamed.L.O, Frederick!If you knew all my foolishness, I thinkYou would despise me. By this little lightI can see nothing. Is’t well done?F.So, so.It flatters me: but that’s the artist’s trick.1090L.Flatters you!F.Well, it taints me with the fashion,Which is the vulgar dress of imitations,And a less blunder than mere naked skill.The individual ideals are givenTo genius only.L.I would have had you paintedJust as you are.F.Nay.—Hark! I hear a step....L.What can we do?F.Some one is coming hither.L.Where can we hide?F.I cannot think; unlessYou creep along the hedge. I’ll wait and seeWho ’tis. I think it must be Tristram.[Exit Laura.Enter Ricardo.RICARDO.Frederick!1100F.Richard! what is the matter?R.Forgive my coming:But if you wish it thought that you are at Milan,Your room should not be lighted, and your servantShould not be singing.F.Singing!—is Tristram singing?R.Hark! You may hear.[T.'s lute heard faintly.F.By heaven!—the wretch! Tell LauraWhy I am gone. All will be lost.[Exit.R.Indeed,Unless Diana is sleeping very soundly,The escapade’s betrayed.Re-enter Laura.My service, lady.L.I heard you speak with Frederick, sir, and thank youFor your kind offices.R.I need no thanks.1110I have a deeper interest in your welfareThan you can guess. I fear that fellow TristramMay ruin us all.L.Frederick hath told me, sir,You know our secret, and will act between us;For which I thank you. I bid you now good-night:I should go in.R.As soon as possible.Pray you be not observed. But first I beg youThank me for Frederick’s visit.L.You, sir! why?R.Why, but for me he had been at Milan.L.Ah!I thank you very much.R.He doth not schemeWell for himself. He needs a wife.1120L.IndeedI cannot scheme.R.And ’tis the fairer wishYou neither may have ever need. Good-night.L.Good-night, sir.[Exit in at window.R.She’s a good creature, quick and sensible;She’ll fly with Frederick. It provokes my soulThat that conceited inconsiderate loonShould put us all in peril. I have half a mindTo take him in my pay.Re-enter Frederick with a lute.F.Is Laura gone?R.And not too soon. If your fine musical manHave waked the Countess she may have heard you too.He is silenced now, I hope.1130F.Here’s his curst lute:I took it from him.R.Ha! then give it to me.The very thing. I’ll step into the gap,And take the blame of this untimely singingUpon myself. Go in and leave me here:And if to-morrow any ask who ’twasThat played and sang at midnight—why ’twas I.Go in.F.Well, bravo, Richard: you’re a genius.R.Leave me.F.I go. Good-night.[Exit.R.Now must I sing.And when there’s none to hear I am sometimes able1140To please myself: else I must ask indulgence.Sings.My eyes for beauty pine,My soul for Goddës grace:No other hope nor care is mine;To heaven I turn my face.One splendour thence is shedFrom all the stars above:’Tis namèd when God’s name is said,’Tis love, ’tis heavenly love.And every gentle heart,1150That burns with true desire,Is lit from eyes that mirror partOf that celestial fire.NICHOLAS(heard entering unseen).Very sweet!R.(aside). Ha! have I an audience after all?N.Ricardo, I believe.R.St Nicholas, is’t not?N.Your lute, sir, as Amphion drew the treesUp by the roots, hath drawn me from my bed.R.Would I could make the lyrical apologyWith which, I doubt not, he replanted them.N.Nay, no apology. And, to say truth,1160’Twas not so much your music as my wishTo catch the singer brought me out. I thought’Twas Frederick’s servant. He should not forget itIf I should catch him breaking rules.R.I hopeI break no rules.N.You see you are very nearThe ladies’windows.R.True: of course I must be.N.And serenading is among the offencesPunished with diet.R.Being a stranger, sir,I cannot be suspected of the knowledgeThat might incriminate me. You, no doubt,Are more familiar.1170N.Yes, there is one windowWhich I should know: and as you chance to standJust underneath it, I will not dissembleThat when I saw you first I felt the pangsOf maddening jealousy. To find ’twas youRelieved me entirely.R.Nay then, truly, sir,I owe you apology: for if your mistressShould have mistook my falala for yours,The poor performance may have hurt your credit.N.Nay, sir, I sing so seldom, I only fear1180I cannot be suspected. If I mightI’d ask you sing again. There’s nought affects meLike music in the moonlight.R.I would oblige youBut for the rules you speak of. Were’t not betterWe should go in? ’tis midnight.N.Oh, I could sitAnd sigh beneath that window all the night.Is there not wondrous softness in the thought,That she one loves is sleeping?R.I will leave youTo your love thoughts.N.Nay, nay, no reason, sir.I have full leisure for sweet meditation.1190I will go in with you. ’Tis a rich comfortTo dream of the belovèd.[Exeunt.SCENE · 2On the terrace, in front of the house. Enter DIANA and RICARDO. FLORA attending Diana.DIANA.What time is’t, sir?RICARDO.I heard the bells of the townStrike ten but now.D.Ah! you can hear the bells,Because they are strange to you. I note them mostThe days they miss.... And so ’tis only ten....I hope you are comfortable here, Ricardo:Gregory took care of you? The clocks for exampleDid not disturb your rest?R.Your ladyshipMeans to reproach me with late hours: but if1200I had thought my singing could be heard....D.Your singing?How musical the world is now-a-days—Yet I heard not your singing.R.I am very glad:I feared I had offended. For myselfI can assure you that though some things hereRemind me of Milan, where the Duke....D.Remember,Speak not to me of Milan.R.A thousand pardons,I am schooled to hide my thoughts, and shall obey:Tho’in your sight they wander to the duke,Who for that grace in such sad sickness pines.1210A lord so loving, and so fair a lady,Would she be also kind,—would make their courtiersAs envied as themselves.D.Enough, forget him.But say you that he is really sick, Ricardo?R.Hopelessly he languishes. I do not thinkHe is long for this world.D.So consumed with folly!R.I too thought that his love was folly, lady,Till I came here: but now I know he is wise.D.I half suspect he sent you here to try meWith soft insinuations.R.’Twere his wish1220I do not doubt: although he spake no wordThat I could wrest to such instruction, madam.D.You serve him well.R.May all your servants everLove you as I do him. Yet that’s too much.D.’Tis all too much. But I can truly boastI have very faithful servants. There’s Sir Gregory:I think you could not better him at Milan.What say you?R.Sir Gregory is the very mirrorOf knightly reverence.D.He is sadly deaf.Then there’s my secretary.R.Your secretary?D.Frederick.R.Ah, Frederick: on so short acquaintanceHow can I judge?1231D.You have a facultyOf observation, which I am pleased to prove:Besides, since you are a stranger,—as you noteOur clocks,—your eyes, no doubt, while yet they are fresh,Will pounce upon a thousand little things,Which we are blind to, seeing every day.Tell me your first impression.R.Your ladyshipWould never task me thus, but in securityOf finding perfect praise. I’ll rather think1240You ask me my opinion, as do poets,To judge of my capacity.D.Nay, nay.Nor will I force your flattery. Speak your mind.I hold him not in wondrous estimation.What of his person?R.He has a good deportment,Yet stoops a little.D.You have a soldier’s eye.He is tall, and hath the scholar’s negligence.A martial stiffness were much out of place.R.True: and his open grace seems less a mannerThan very nature; being itself unlinkedWith any distant bearing.1250D.Now you teach me.You might have known him long to hit him so.Have you talked with him much?R.Enough to prove himA most ingenious gentleman.D.Ah!—ingenious!Ingenious;—that is a doubtful word.You do not mean contriving?Enter F. and T. in their travelling costume as before.

Night. The garden, at Laura’s windows, which are nearly to the ground. L. a wall with door in it leading from the park without. Enter by door in travelling costume FREDERICK and TRISTRAM carrying a small portmantle. F. stays behind to lock the door.TRISTRAM(coming to front).Here’sa journey: twenty miles about and home again: and no lady. Were it not for the letter I found on the path, I should hold to my opinion that it is all a make-believe, and that there is no lady at all: and that my master wrote that first letter to himself, making the appointment to meet himself, ... he returns so pleased, with his head in the air, like the best satisfied lover. I have a fool for my master. He is but a fool, tho’he needs no humouring. (To F. who approaches.) Well, now we are at home again, sir; and as it were partly returned to our senses....FREDERICK.Silence, Tristram. Take off your boots.T.Pray, sir....900F.Not a word. Obey me.T.Heaven help us! what is this for?F.Silence. Are they off?T.They are coming.F.Hark now what you have to do. Cross the grass silently, unlock my door, creep upstairs like a thief, and sit in my chamber without a movement till I come.T.The grass is like a sponge. I have begun to catch cold already: I am just going to sneeze.910F.Sneeze, and I’ll strangle you.T.Is this your treatment for all my services?

TRISTRAM(coming to front).

Here’sa journey: twenty miles about and home again: and no lady. Were it not for the letter I found on the path, I should hold to my opinion that it is all a make-believe, and that there is no lady at all: and that my master wrote that first letter to himself, making the appointment to meet himself, ... he returns so pleased, with his head in the air, like the best satisfied lover. I have a fool for my master. He is but a fool, tho’he needs no humouring. (To F. who approaches.) Well, now we are at home again, sir; and as it were partly returned to our senses....

FREDERICK.

Silence, Tristram. Take off your boots.

T.Pray, sir....

F.Not a word. Obey me.

T.Heaven help us! what is this for?

F.Silence. Are they off?

T.They are coming.

F.Hark now what you have to do. Cross the grass silently, unlock my door, creep upstairs like a thief, and sit in my chamber without a movement till I come.

T.The grass is like a sponge. I have begun to catch cold already: I am just going to sneeze.

F.Sneeze, and I’ll strangle you.

T.Is this your treatment for all my services?

F.Your service is your duty to obey:And once you served me well: of late you are grownQuestionous and prying; which I have so far borne,Because I have been in doubt whether it were bestTo thrash you or discharge you.

F.Your service is your duty to obey:

And once you served me well: of late you are grown

Questionous and prying; which I have so far borne,

Because I have been in doubt whether it were best

To thrash you or discharge you.

T.And no wonder neither. Thus the world will repay devotion. Can I see you so blind to your good fortune, and when heaven’s door stands open....

920F.Heaven’s door! what is this?

F.Heaven’s door! what is this?

T.You do not know.

F.Say what you mean.

T.This court, wherein you serve and get no thanks,You might rule and be thanked.

T.This court, wherein you serve and get no thanks,

You might rule and be thanked.

F.Just as I thought;Ere I dismiss you I shall tell the CountessYour insolence. The whipping you will getWill save me trouble.

F.Just as I thought;

Ere I dismiss you I shall tell the Countess

Your insolence. The whipping you will get

Will save me trouble.

T.I pray you on my knees.

F.Get up, fool, lest you sneeze. And would you escape929Your rich deservings, be off.

F.Get up, fool, lest you sneeze. And would you escape

Your rich deservings, be off.

T.Betray me not, sir: I will obey you better.

F.Silence: go do as I bid you. Begone, and take your boots.[Exit T.So my man knows her secret. ’Tis high timeThat Laura and I were off. This salves my conscienceFrom any scruple. ’Tis a rule of artTo make obstructions serve: and my chief hindrance,Diana’s passion, can but urge me on.So the mischance, which drew me hence to-night,Hath brought me hither a more secret way.The night is still. I would there were a wind.And there’s the clock. (Clock strikes.) I’ll wait941Till it hath sounded.... No light.... I’ll tap.

F.Silence: go do as I bid you. Begone, and take your boots.[Exit T.

So my man knows her secret. ’Tis high time

That Laura and I were off. This salves my conscience

From any scruple. ’Tis a rule of art

To make obstructions serve: and my chief hindrance,

Diana’s passion, can but urge me on.

So the mischance, which drew me hence to-night,

Hath brought me hither a more secret way.

The night is still. I would there were a wind.

And there’s the clock. (Clock strikes.) I’ll wait

Till it hath sounded.... No light.... I’ll tap.

(Goes to window and taps. Laura comes to window and opens.)

F.All’s well. ’Tis I.

LAURA.

Frederick, not gone to Milan?

F.I escaped but with a thousand torments—May I come in?

F.I escaped but with a thousand torments—

May I come in?

L.We can talk here.

F.The nightIs very still, our voices will be heard:They run along the wall.

F.The night

Is very still, our voices will be heard:

They run along the wall.

L.Then I’ll come out.

F.We shall be seen.

L.The maids are all abed.There’s none to see us; and the moon is clouded.We’ll walk by the yew hedge. Give me your hand.

L.The maids are all abed.

There’s none to see us; and the moon is clouded.

We’ll walk by the yew hedge. Give me your hand.

F.’Tis but one step.

L.I know.(Comes down.)

F.My kiss.(Kisses her.)

950L.O Frederick,You have broken your own rule, and kissed me thrice.

L.O Frederick,

You have broken your own rule, and kissed me thrice.

F.One kiss a day, with two days in arrear,Makes three.

F.One kiss a day, with two days in arrear,

Makes three.

L.Alas! I thought ’twas love’s excess,And still I am kissed by rule.

L.Alas! I thought ’twas love’s excess,

And still I am kissed by rule.

F.And be content, love,To keep the little rules we make ourselves,Since thou must break such great ones; and canst dareDeceive the Countess, disobey thy father,And brave the world’s opinion: all which sinsI come to stablish in thee. There’s now no choice960But fly with me or take St. Nicholas.

F.And be content, love,

To keep the little rules we make ourselves,

Since thou must break such great ones; and canst dare

Deceive the Countess, disobey thy father,

And brave the world’s opinion: all which sins

I come to stablish in thee. There’s now no choice

But fly with me or take St. Nicholas.

L.That name is desperation. Have you no planTo save me?

L.That name is desperation. Have you no plan

To save me?

F.If you dare fly with me to Milan.

L.To-night?

F.Would ’twere to-night.

L.But when, love, when?

F.Trust me to find the time.

L.And why to Milan?

F.My friend the Duke, being now away from home,Lends me his palace. All we else should lack,Appointment and conveyance, he supplies.We have his countenance now, his influence after,To appease your father and sister.

F.My friend the Duke, being now away from home,

Lends me his palace. All we else should lack,

Appointment and conveyance, he supplies.

We have his countenance now, his influence after,

To appease your father and sister.

L.Are you such friends?

F.There cannot be two hearts in all the world971Nearer-familiar than are his and mine.

F.There cannot be two hearts in all the world

Nearer-familiar than are his and mine.

L.You never told me.

F.I had not heard from himNow for three years.

F.I had not heard from him

Now for three years.

L.’Tis strange.

F.Nay, ’tis not strange.Ours was a boyhood friendship; such affectionBorn in life’s spring is perfect with the flower.The memory is a binding intimacy,Which grows as we grow from it: in its strengthIs our lost tenderness; its truth is provedBy every lie the world has given our hopes:980Absence and age best feed it. We rememberFirst ecstasies, and the unreserved embraceOf mutual spirits, and worship the remembrance.The Duke and I are strangers in the world,Courteous acquaintance in society,But to ourselves, twin individual gods.

F.Nay, ’tis not strange.

Ours was a boyhood friendship; such affection

Born in life’s spring is perfect with the flower.

The memory is a binding intimacy,

Which grows as we grow from it: in its strength

Is our lost tenderness; its truth is proved

By every lie the world has given our hopes:

Absence and age best feed it. We remember

First ecstasies, and the unreserved embrace

Of mutual spirits, and worship the remembrance.

The Duke and I are strangers in the world,

Courteous acquaintance in society,

But to ourselves, twin individual gods.

L.Alas, poor me!

F.Can it displease you, love,I have such a friend?

F.Can it displease you, love,

I have such a friend?

L.Ere it is too late, Frederick,Think if you love me enough.

L.Ere it is too late, Frederick,

Think if you love me enough.

F.Why, ’tis a questionTo make me think you think I think I do not.

F.Why, ’tis a question

To make me think you think I think I do not.

990L.Indeed, ere I consent to be your wife....

L.Indeed, ere I consent to be your wife....

F.You have consented, Laura.

L.Nay, but hear me.Before we marry, you must know a thing,Which, since it might lessen your love for me,Shall not be kept till after.

L.Nay, but hear me.

Before we marry, you must know a thing,

Which, since it might lessen your love for me,

Shall not be kept till after.

F.Then tell it quickly.

L.What you have said, and what I have to tell,So dwarfs my little humble plant of love.

L.What you have said, and what I have to tell,

So dwarfs my little humble plant of love.

F.Tell it.

L.Diana loves you.

F.You know it too!

L.You know it!

F.I!—Why, Laura, is this your secret?

L.I see you have guessed it; yet, perhaps, for thinkingThou shouldst be loyal where thy faith is cherished,1001Thou hast never weighed her claim with mine; and thatI’d have thee do. Look to thine interest:For loving women differ not so muchBut all may make good wives; and whatsoe’erThou thinkest to see in me, Frederick, I am sureI lack all excellence. There’s nothing in meWhy I should have preferment o’er another,And least of all of her who can boast lovelinessTo match her love; and add those other gifts,1010Which are necessities to one like thee.Thou, with high friendships shouldst have power and station,And fitted for the fairest use of wealth,Thou art wronged in the want of it: and, Love, I love theeSo better than myself, that I would see theeHappily another’s rather than my ownWith the reproach of selfishness, the knowledgeThat thou wert sacrificed for my poor love.

L.I see you have guessed it; yet, perhaps, for thinking

Thou shouldst be loyal where thy faith is cherished,

Thou hast never weighed her claim with mine; and that

I’d have thee do. Look to thine interest:

For loving women differ not so much

But all may make good wives; and whatsoe’er

Thou thinkest to see in me, Frederick, I am sure

I lack all excellence. There’s nothing in me

Why I should have preferment o’er another,

And least of all of her who can boast loveliness

To match her love; and add those other gifts,

Which are necessities to one like thee.

Thou, with high friendships shouldst have power and station,

And fitted for the fairest use of wealth,

Thou art wronged in the want of it: and, Love, I love thee

So better than myself, that I would see thee

Happily another’s rather than my own

With the reproach of selfishness, the knowledge

That thou wert sacrificed for my poor love.

F.If women differ little, what of men?St. Nicholas loves you, and would give you rank.

F.If women differ little, what of men?

St. Nicholas loves you, and would give you rank.

1020L.Thou knowst thou wrongst me, Frederick, turning thusMy love of thee to banter of my love.

L.Thou knowst thou wrongst me, Frederick, turning thus

My love of thee to banter of my love.

F.I only banter where you dare be grave.

L.Because thou knowest, Love, I desire not wealth.My happiness would be to live with theeAnd for thee: but to thee what can I bring?Think not because I wish thee fortunate,That I forget my hope, or slight the treasureSo much desirèd of my loving soul.

L.Because thou knowest, Love, I desire not wealth.

My happiness would be to live with thee

And for thee: but to thee what can I bring?

Think not because I wish thee fortunate,

That I forget my hope, or slight the treasure

So much desirèd of my loving soul.

F.And for that loving soul you bid me take1030Some fifty thousand ducats by the year,A major-domo, and a heap of thingsThat are a proverb for their emptiness!

F.And for that loving soul you bid me take

Some fifty thousand ducats by the year,

A major-domo, and a heap of things

That are a proverb for their emptiness!

L.Diana’s love, I said; that with the ducats.

F.Well, what doth all this come to when ’tis told?First is Diana’s love. Diana’s loveIs nothing, for I do not love Diana.Next are the ducats: fifty thousand ducats.They are nothing either—by the year! Why, Laura,Were’t fifty thousand ducats by the day1040’Twere nothing to me. You can little guessMy prodigal soul. I should expend it allAnd sit at home and be as poor as ever.

F.Well, what doth all this come to when ’tis told?

First is Diana’s love. Diana’s love

Is nothing, for I do not love Diana.

Next are the ducats: fifty thousand ducats.

They are nothing either—by the year! Why, Laura,

Were’t fifty thousand ducats by the day

’Twere nothing to me. You can little guess

My prodigal soul. I should expend it all

And sit at home and be as poor as ever.

L.How could you spend so much?

F.Nothing is much.Man’s capabilities being infiniteAnd his state pitiful, the simplest schemeFor bettering any faculty he hath,Would eat up all the money in the world.

F.Nothing is much.

Man’s capabilities being infinite

And his state pitiful, the simplest scheme

For bettering any faculty he hath,

Would eat up all the money in the world.

L.But to use riches rightly—

F.I have no desireThat earth can satisfy, but one; and thatShall I play false to?

F.I have no desire

That earth can satisfy, but one; and that

Shall I play false to?

1050L.Nay; I trust you well.

L.Nay; I trust you well.

F.Then waste no more the precious moments, Laura,To question the great blessing we enjoy.Our hours will all be as this hour to-night;Either to step with in eternityTowards our perfection with unwavering will,Or with a questioning purpose let it slide,And leave us far behind. A man’s desiresAre his companions and by them he is known;But he himself is what he grows to beUsing his time.

F.Then waste no more the precious moments, Laura,

To question the great blessing we enjoy.

Our hours will all be as this hour to-night;

Either to step with in eternity

Towards our perfection with unwavering will,

Or with a questioning purpose let it slide,

And leave us far behind. A man’s desires

Are his companions and by them he is known;

But he himself is what he grows to be

Using his time.

1060L.How best to use it now?

L.How best to use it now?

F.First to assure thee, dearest, that all the joysI have had or hoped are nothing to thy love.And next, that we may make it sure, I ask theeTo say thou’lt fly with me.

F.First to assure thee, dearest, that all the joys

I have had or hoped are nothing to thy love.

And next, that we may make it sure, I ask thee

To say thou’lt fly with me.

L.When, Frederick, when?I fear ’twill never be; we have but two days.

L.When, Frederick, when?

I fear ’twill never be; we have but two days.

F.Therefore be ready at any moment, Laura.All’s fixed except the time: that must dependUpon occasion. If I cannot see thee,Ricardo, whom I have made my confidant,1070Will bring thee word. He cannot be suspected,And thou mayst trust him.

F.Therefore be ready at any moment, Laura.

All’s fixed except the time: that must depend

Upon occasion. If I cannot see thee,

Ricardo, whom I have made my confidant,

Will bring thee word. He cannot be suspected,

And thou mayst trust him.

L.Dare I tell my father?

F.That’s my chief scruple; and yet we dare not tell him.If only Providence would give him backHis hearing for one day! After one daySpent with St. Nicholas, I should not fearTo broach our matter.

F.That’s my chief scruple; and yet we dare not tell him.

If only Providence would give him back

His hearing for one day! After one day

Spent with St. Nicholas, I should not fear

To broach our matter.

L.He has the marriage contractReady to sign.

L.He has the marriage contract

Ready to sign.

F.Not as he thinks. By luckThey entrusted it to me; and as I have drawn itHe cannot sign it. He must give it me back,And that will make delay.

F.Not as he thinks. By luck

They entrusted it to me; and as I have drawn it

He cannot sign it. He must give it me back,

And that will make delay.

1080L.Of all these chances,If any one go wrong....

L.Of all these chances,

If any one go wrong....

F.All will go well.See, here’s my portrait, Laura, which I promised:’Tis framed like yours; that is its only merit.

F.All will go well.

See, here’s my portrait, Laura, which I promised:

’Tis framed like yours; that is its only merit.

L.O, let me have it.

F.Take it. That you should careTo look upon it, makes me ashamed.

F.Take it. That you should care

To look upon it, makes me ashamed.

L.O, Frederick!If you knew all my foolishness, I thinkYou would despise me. By this little lightI can see nothing. Is’t well done?

L.O, Frederick!

If you knew all my foolishness, I think

You would despise me. By this little light

I can see nothing. Is’t well done?

F.So, so.It flatters me: but that’s the artist’s trick.

F.So, so.

It flatters me: but that’s the artist’s trick.

1090L.Flatters you!

L.Flatters you!

F.Well, it taints me with the fashion,Which is the vulgar dress of imitations,And a less blunder than mere naked skill.The individual ideals are givenTo genius only.

F.Well, it taints me with the fashion,

Which is the vulgar dress of imitations,

And a less blunder than mere naked skill.

The individual ideals are given

To genius only.

L.I would have had you paintedJust as you are.

L.I would have had you painted

Just as you are.

F.Nay.—Hark! I hear a step....

L.What can we do?

F.Some one is coming hither.

L.Where can we hide?

F.I cannot think; unlessYou creep along the hedge. I’ll wait and seeWho ’tis. I think it must be Tristram.[Exit Laura.

F.I cannot think; unless

You creep along the hedge. I’ll wait and see

Who ’tis. I think it must be Tristram.[Exit Laura.

Enter Ricardo.

RICARDO.

Frederick!

1100F.Richard! what is the matter?

F.Richard! what is the matter?

R.Forgive my coming:But if you wish it thought that you are at Milan,Your room should not be lighted, and your servantShould not be singing.

R.Forgive my coming:

But if you wish it thought that you are at Milan,

Your room should not be lighted, and your servant

Should not be singing.

F.Singing!—is Tristram singing?

R.Hark! You may hear.[T.'s lute heard faintly.

F.By heaven!—the wretch! Tell LauraWhy I am gone. All will be lost.[Exit.

F.By heaven!—the wretch! Tell Laura

Why I am gone. All will be lost.[Exit.

R.Indeed,Unless Diana is sleeping very soundly,The escapade’s betrayed.

R.Indeed,

Unless Diana is sleeping very soundly,

The escapade’s betrayed.

Re-enter Laura.

My service, lady.

L.I heard you speak with Frederick, sir, and thank youFor your kind offices.

L.I heard you speak with Frederick, sir, and thank you

For your kind offices.

R.I need no thanks.1110I have a deeper interest in your welfareThan you can guess. I fear that fellow TristramMay ruin us all.

R.I need no thanks.

I have a deeper interest in your welfare

Than you can guess. I fear that fellow Tristram

May ruin us all.

L.Frederick hath told me, sir,You know our secret, and will act between us;For which I thank you. I bid you now good-night:I should go in.

L.Frederick hath told me, sir,

You know our secret, and will act between us;

For which I thank you. I bid you now good-night:

I should go in.

R.As soon as possible.Pray you be not observed. But first I beg youThank me for Frederick’s visit.

R.As soon as possible.

Pray you be not observed. But first I beg you

Thank me for Frederick’s visit.

L.You, sir! why?

R.Why, but for me he had been at Milan.

L.Ah!I thank you very much.

L.Ah!

I thank you very much.

R.He doth not schemeWell for himself. He needs a wife.

R.He doth not scheme

Well for himself. He needs a wife.

1120L.IndeedI cannot scheme.

L.Indeed

I cannot scheme.

R.And ’tis the fairer wishYou neither may have ever need. Good-night.

R.And ’tis the fairer wish

You neither may have ever need. Good-night.

L.Good-night, sir.[Exit in at window.

R.She’s a good creature, quick and sensible;She’ll fly with Frederick. It provokes my soulThat that conceited inconsiderate loonShould put us all in peril. I have half a mindTo take him in my pay.

R.She’s a good creature, quick and sensible;

She’ll fly with Frederick. It provokes my soul

That that conceited inconsiderate loon

Should put us all in peril. I have half a mind

To take him in my pay.

Re-enter Frederick with a lute.

F.Is Laura gone?

R.And not too soon. If your fine musical manHave waked the Countess she may have heard you too.He is silenced now, I hope.

R.And not too soon. If your fine musical man

Have waked the Countess she may have heard you too.

He is silenced now, I hope.

1130F.Here’s his curst lute:I took it from him.

F.Here’s his curst lute:

I took it from him.

R.Ha! then give it to me.The very thing. I’ll step into the gap,And take the blame of this untimely singingUpon myself. Go in and leave me here:And if to-morrow any ask who ’twasThat played and sang at midnight—why ’twas I.Go in.

R.Ha! then give it to me.

The very thing. I’ll step into the gap,

And take the blame of this untimely singing

Upon myself. Go in and leave me here:

And if to-morrow any ask who ’twas

That played and sang at midnight—why ’twas I.

Go in.

F.Well, bravo, Richard: you’re a genius.

R.Leave me.

F.I go. Good-night.[Exit.

R.Now must I sing.And when there’s none to hear I am sometimes able1140To please myself: else I must ask indulgence.

R.Now must I sing.

And when there’s none to hear I am sometimes able

To please myself: else I must ask indulgence.

Sings.

My eyes for beauty pine,My soul for Goddës grace:No other hope nor care is mine;To heaven I turn my face.

My eyes for beauty pine,

My soul for Goddës grace:

No other hope nor care is mine;

To heaven I turn my face.

One splendour thence is shedFrom all the stars above:’Tis namèd when God’s name is said,’Tis love, ’tis heavenly love.

One splendour thence is shed

From all the stars above:

’Tis namèd when God’s name is said,

’Tis love, ’tis heavenly love.

And every gentle heart,1150That burns with true desire,Is lit from eyes that mirror partOf that celestial fire.

And every gentle heart,

That burns with true desire,

Is lit from eyes that mirror part

Of that celestial fire.

NICHOLAS(heard entering unseen).

Very sweet!

R.(aside). Ha! have I an audience after all?

N.Ricardo, I believe.

R.St Nicholas, is’t not?

N.Your lute, sir, as Amphion drew the treesUp by the roots, hath drawn me from my bed.

N.Your lute, sir, as Amphion drew the trees

Up by the roots, hath drawn me from my bed.

R.Would I could make the lyrical apologyWith which, I doubt not, he replanted them.

R.Would I could make the lyrical apology

With which, I doubt not, he replanted them.

N.Nay, no apology. And, to say truth,1160’Twas not so much your music as my wishTo catch the singer brought me out. I thought’Twas Frederick’s servant. He should not forget itIf I should catch him breaking rules.

N.Nay, no apology. And, to say truth,

’Twas not so much your music as my wish

To catch the singer brought me out. I thought

’Twas Frederick’s servant. He should not forget it

If I should catch him breaking rules.

R.I hopeI break no rules.

R.I hope

I break no rules.

N.You see you are very nearThe ladies’windows.

N.You see you are very near

The ladies’windows.

R.True: of course I must be.

N.And serenading is among the offencesPunished with diet.

N.And serenading is among the offences

Punished with diet.

R.Being a stranger, sir,I cannot be suspected of the knowledgeThat might incriminate me. You, no doubt,Are more familiar.

R.Being a stranger, sir,

I cannot be suspected of the knowledge

That might incriminate me. You, no doubt,

Are more familiar.

1170N.Yes, there is one windowWhich I should know: and as you chance to standJust underneath it, I will not dissembleThat when I saw you first I felt the pangsOf maddening jealousy. To find ’twas youRelieved me entirely.

N.Yes, there is one window

Which I should know: and as you chance to stand

Just underneath it, I will not dissemble

That when I saw you first I felt the pangs

Of maddening jealousy. To find ’twas you

Relieved me entirely.

R.Nay then, truly, sir,I owe you apology: for if your mistressShould have mistook my falala for yours,The poor performance may have hurt your credit.

R.Nay then, truly, sir,

I owe you apology: for if your mistress

Should have mistook my falala for yours,

The poor performance may have hurt your credit.

N.Nay, sir, I sing so seldom, I only fear1180I cannot be suspected. If I mightI’d ask you sing again. There’s nought affects meLike music in the moonlight.

N.Nay, sir, I sing so seldom, I only fear

I cannot be suspected. If I might

I’d ask you sing again. There’s nought affects me

Like music in the moonlight.

R.I would oblige youBut for the rules you speak of. Were’t not betterWe should go in? ’tis midnight.

R.I would oblige you

But for the rules you speak of. Were’t not better

We should go in? ’tis midnight.

N.Oh, I could sitAnd sigh beneath that window all the night.Is there not wondrous softness in the thought,That she one loves is sleeping?

N.Oh, I could sit

And sigh beneath that window all the night.

Is there not wondrous softness in the thought,

That she one loves is sleeping?

R.I will leave youTo your love thoughts.

R.I will leave you

To your love thoughts.

N.Nay, nay, no reason, sir.I have full leisure for sweet meditation.1190I will go in with you. ’Tis a rich comfortTo dream of the belovèd.[Exeunt.

N.Nay, nay, no reason, sir.

I have full leisure for sweet meditation.

I will go in with you. ’Tis a rich comfort

To dream of the belovèd.[Exeunt.

On the terrace, in front of the house. Enter DIANA and RICARDO. FLORA attending Diana.

DIANA.

What time is’t, sir?

RICARDO.

I heard the bells of the townStrike ten but now.

I heard the bells of the town

Strike ten but now.

D.Ah! you can hear the bells,Because they are strange to you. I note them mostThe days they miss.... And so ’tis only ten....I hope you are comfortable here, Ricardo:Gregory took care of you? The clocks for exampleDid not disturb your rest?

D.Ah! you can hear the bells,

Because they are strange to you. I note them most

The days they miss.... And so ’tis only ten....

I hope you are comfortable here, Ricardo:

Gregory took care of you? The clocks for example

Did not disturb your rest?

R.Your ladyshipMeans to reproach me with late hours: but if1200I had thought my singing could be heard....

R.Your ladyship

Means to reproach me with late hours: but if

I had thought my singing could be heard....

D.Your singing?How musical the world is now-a-days—Yet I heard not your singing.

D.Your singing?

How musical the world is now-a-days—

Yet I heard not your singing.

R.I am very glad:I feared I had offended. For myselfI can assure you that though some things hereRemind me of Milan, where the Duke....

R.I am very glad:

I feared I had offended. For myself

I can assure you that though some things here

Remind me of Milan, where the Duke....

D.Remember,Speak not to me of Milan.

D.Remember,

Speak not to me of Milan.

R.A thousand pardons,I am schooled to hide my thoughts, and shall obey:Tho’in your sight they wander to the duke,Who for that grace in such sad sickness pines.1210A lord so loving, and so fair a lady,Would she be also kind,—would make their courtiersAs envied as themselves.

R.A thousand pardons,

I am schooled to hide my thoughts, and shall obey:

Tho’in your sight they wander to the duke,

Who for that grace in such sad sickness pines.

A lord so loving, and so fair a lady,

Would she be also kind,—would make their courtiers

As envied as themselves.

D.Enough, forget him.But say you that he is really sick, Ricardo?

D.Enough, forget him.

But say you that he is really sick, Ricardo?

R.Hopelessly he languishes. I do not thinkHe is long for this world.

R.Hopelessly he languishes. I do not think

He is long for this world.

D.So consumed with folly!

R.I too thought that his love was folly, lady,Till I came here: but now I know he is wise.

R.I too thought that his love was folly, lady,

Till I came here: but now I know he is wise.

D.I half suspect he sent you here to try meWith soft insinuations.

D.I half suspect he sent you here to try me

With soft insinuations.

R.’Twere his wish1220I do not doubt: although he spake no wordThat I could wrest to such instruction, madam.

R.’Twere his wish

I do not doubt: although he spake no word

That I could wrest to such instruction, madam.

D.You serve him well.

R.May all your servants everLove you as I do him. Yet that’s too much.

R.May all your servants ever

Love you as I do him. Yet that’s too much.

D.’Tis all too much. But I can truly boastI have very faithful servants. There’s Sir Gregory:I think you could not better him at Milan.What say you?

D.’Tis all too much. But I can truly boast

I have very faithful servants. There’s Sir Gregory:

I think you could not better him at Milan.

What say you?

R.Sir Gregory is the very mirrorOf knightly reverence.

R.Sir Gregory is the very mirror

Of knightly reverence.

D.He is sadly deaf.Then there’s my secretary.

D.He is sadly deaf.

Then there’s my secretary.

R.Your secretary?

D.Frederick.

R.Ah, Frederick: on so short acquaintanceHow can I judge?

R.Ah, Frederick: on so short acquaintance

How can I judge?

1231D.You have a facultyOf observation, which I am pleased to prove:Besides, since you are a stranger,—as you noteOur clocks,—your eyes, no doubt, while yet they are fresh,Will pounce upon a thousand little things,Which we are blind to, seeing every day.Tell me your first impression.

D.You have a faculty

Of observation, which I am pleased to prove:

Besides, since you are a stranger,—as you note

Our clocks,—your eyes, no doubt, while yet they are fresh,

Will pounce upon a thousand little things,

Which we are blind to, seeing every day.

Tell me your first impression.

R.Your ladyshipWould never task me thus, but in securityOf finding perfect praise. I’ll rather think1240You ask me my opinion, as do poets,To judge of my capacity.

R.Your ladyship

Would never task me thus, but in security

Of finding perfect praise. I’ll rather think

You ask me my opinion, as do poets,

To judge of my capacity.

D.Nay, nay.Nor will I force your flattery. Speak your mind.I hold him not in wondrous estimation.What of his person?

D.Nay, nay.

Nor will I force your flattery. Speak your mind.

I hold him not in wondrous estimation.

What of his person?

R.He has a good deportment,Yet stoops a little.

R.He has a good deportment,

Yet stoops a little.

D.You have a soldier’s eye.He is tall, and hath the scholar’s negligence.A martial stiffness were much out of place.

D.You have a soldier’s eye.

He is tall, and hath the scholar’s negligence.

A martial stiffness were much out of place.

R.True: and his open grace seems less a mannerThan very nature; being itself unlinkedWith any distant bearing.

R.True: and his open grace seems less a manner

Than very nature; being itself unlinked

With any distant bearing.

1250D.Now you teach me.You might have known him long to hit him so.Have you talked with him much?

D.Now you teach me.

You might have known him long to hit him so.

Have you talked with him much?

R.Enough to prove himA most ingenious gentleman.

R.Enough to prove him

A most ingenious gentleman.

D.Ah!—ingenious!Ingenious;—that is a doubtful word.You do not mean contriving?

D.Ah!—ingenious!

Ingenious;—that is a doubtful word.

You do not mean contriving?

Enter F. and T. in their travelling costume as before.

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