ACT III

Noon.Scene.The Presence-chamber.TheDuchessandSabyne.Duchess.Announce that I am ready for the court!Sabyne.'T is scarcely audience-hour, I think; your GraceMay best consult your own relief, no doubt,And shun the crowd: but few can have arrived.Duch.Let those not yet arrived, then, keep away!'T was me, this day last year at Ravestein,You hurried. It has been full time, beside,This half-hour. Do you hesitate?Sab.Forgive me!Duch.Stay, Sabyne; let me hasten to make sureOf one true thanker: here with you beginsMy audience, claim you first its privilege!It is my birth's event they celebrate:You need not wish me more such happy days,But—ask some favor! Have you none to ask?Has Adolf none, then? this was far from leastOf much I waited for impatiently,Assure yourself! It seemed so naturalYour gift, beside this bunch of river-bells,Should be the power and leave of doing goodTo you, and greater pleasure to myself.You ask my leave to-day to marry Adolf?The rest is my concern.Sab.Your Grace is everOur lady of dear Ravestein,—but, for Adolf ...Duch."But"? You have not, sure, changed in your regardAnd purpose towards him?Sab.We change?Duch.Well then? Well?Sab.How could we two be happy, and, most like,Leave Juliers, when—when ... but 't is audience-time!Duch."When, if you left me, I were left indeed!"Would you subjoin that? Bid the court approach!—Why should we play thus with each other, Sabyne?Do I not know, if courtiers prove remiss,If friends detain me, and get blame for it,There is a cause? Of last year's fervid throngScarce one half comes now.Sab.[Aside.]One half? No, alas!Duch.So can the mere suspicion of a cloudOver my fortunes, strike each loyal heart.They've heard of this Prince Berthold; and, forsooth,Some foolish arrogant pretence he makes,May grow more foolish and more arrogant,They please to apprehend! I thank their love.Admit them!Sab.[Aside.]How much has she really learned?Duch.Surely, whoever's absent, Tristan waits?—Or at least Romuald, whom my father raisedFrom nothing—come, he's faithful to me, come!(Sabyne, I should but be the prouder—yes,The fitter to comport myself aright)Not Romuald? Xavier—what said he to that?For Xavier hates a parasite, I know![Sabynegoes out.Duch.Well, sunshine's everywhere, and summer too.Next year 'tis the old place again, perhaps—The water-breeze again, the birds again.—It cannot be! It is too late to be!What part had I, or choice in all of it?Hither they brought me; I had not to thinkNor care, concern myself with doing goodOr ill, my task was just—to live,—to live,And, answering ends there was no need explain,To render Juliers happy—so they said.All could not have been falsehood: some was love,And wonder and obedience. I did allThey looked for: why then cease to do it now?Yet this is to be calmly set aside,And—ere next birthday's dawn, for aught I know,Things change, a claimant may arrive, and I ...It cannot nor it shall not be! His right?Well then, he has the right, and I have not,—But who bade all of you surround my lifeAnd close its growth up with your ducal crownWhich, plucked off rudely, leaves me perishing?I could have been like one of you,—loved, hoped,Feared, lived and died like one of you—but youWould take that life away and give me this,And I will keep this! I will face you! Come!(Enter theCourtiersandValence.)The Courtiers.Many such happy mornings to your Grace!Duch.[Aside, as they pay their devoir.]The same words, the same faces,—the same love!I have been overfearful. These are few;But these, at least, stand firmly: these are mine.As many come as may; and if no more,'T is that these few suffice—they do suffice!What succor may not next year bring me? Plainly,I feared too soon.[To theCourtiers.]I thank you, sirs: all thanks!Val.[Aside, as theDuchesspasses from one group to another, conversing.]'T is she—the vision this day last year brought,When, for a golden moment at our Cleves,She tarried in her progress hither. ClevesChose me to speak its welcome, and I spoke—Not that she could have noted the recluse—Ungainly, old before his time—who gazed.Well, Heaven's gifts are not wasted, and that gazeKept, and shall keep me to the end, her own!She was above it—but so would not sinkMy gaze to earth! The People caught it, hers—Thenceforward, mine; but thus entirely mine,Who shall affirm, had she not raised my soulEre she retired and left me—them? She turns—There 's all her wondrous face at once! The groundReels and ...[Suddenly occupying himself with his paper.]These wrongs of theirs I have to plead!Duch.[To theCourtiers.]Nay, compliment enough! and kindness' selfShould pause before it wish me more such years.'T was fortunate that thus, ere youth escaped,I tasted life's pure pleasure—one such, pure,Is worth a thousand, mixed—and youth 's for pleasure:Mine is received; let my age pay for it.Gau.So, pay, and pleasure paid for, thinks your Grace,Should never go together?Gui.How, Sir Gaucelme?Hurry one's feast down unenjoyinglyAt the snatched breathing-intervals of work?As good you saved it till the dull day's-endWhen, stiff and sleepy, appetite is gone.Eat first, then work upon the strength of food!Duch.True: you enable me to risk my future,By giving me a past beyond recall.I lived, a girl, one happy leisure year:Let me endeavor to be the Duchess now!And so,—what news, Sir Guibert, spoke you of?[As they advance a little, andGuibertspeaks——That gentleman?Val.[Aside.]I feel her eyes on me.Gui.[ToValence.]The Duchess, sir, inclines to hear your suit.Advance! He is from Cleves.Val.[Coming forward.][Aside.]Their wrongs—their wrongs!Duch.And you, sir, are from Cleves? How fresh in mind,The hour or two I passed at queenly Cleves!She entertained me bravely, but the bestOf her good pageant seemed its standers-byWith insuppressive joy on every face!What says my ancient famous happy Cleves?Val.Take the truth, lady—you are made for truth!So think my friends: nor do they less deserveThe having you to take it, you shall think,When you know all—nay, when you only knowHow, on that day you recollect at Cleves,When the poor acquiescing multitudeWho thrust themselves with all their woes apartInto unnoticed corners, that the few,Their means sufficed to muster trappings for,Might fill the foreground, occupy your sightWith joyous faces fit to bear awayAnd boast of as a sample of all Cleves—How, when to daylight these crept out once more,Clutching, unconscious, each his empty ragsWhence the scant coin, which had not half bought bread,That morn he shook forth, counted piece by piece,And, well-advisedly, on perfumes spent themTo burn, or flowers to strew, before your path—How, when the golden flood of music and blissEbbed, as their moon retreated, and againLeft the sharp black-point rocks of misery bare—Then I, their friend, had only to suggest"Saw she the horror as she saw the pomp!"And as one man they cried, "He speaks the truth:Show her the horror! Take from our own mouthsOur wrongs and show them, she will see them too!"This they cried, lady! I have brought the wrongs.Duch.Wrongs? Cleves has wrongs—apparent now and thus?I thank you! In that paper? Give it me!Val.(There, Cleves!) In this! (What did I promise, Cleves?)Our weavers, clothiers, spinners are reducedSince ... Oh, I crave your pardon! I forgetI buy the privilege of this approach,And promptly would discharge my debt. I layThis paper humbly at the Duchess' feet.[PresentingGuibert'spaper.Gui.Stay! for the present ...Duch.Stay, sir? I take aughtThat teaches me their wrongs with greater prideThan this your ducal circlet. Thank you, sir![TheDuchessreads hastily; then, turning to theCourtiers—What have I done to you? Your deed or mineWas it, this crowning me? I gave myselfNo more a title to your homage, no,Than church-flowers, born this season, wrote the wordsIn the saint's-book that sanctified them first.For such a flower, you plucked me; well, you erred—Well, 't was a weed; remove the eye-sore quick!But should you not remember it has lainSteeped in the candles' glory, palely shrined,Nearer God's Mother than most earthly things?—That if 't be faded 't is with prayer's sole breath—That the one day it boasted was God's day?Still, I do thank you! Had you used respect,Here might I dwindle to my last white leaf,Here lose life's latest freshness, which even yetMay yield some wandering insect rest and food:So, fling me forth, and—all is best for all![After a pause.]Prince Berthold, who art Juliers' Duke it seems—The King's choice, and the Emperor's, and the Pope's—Be mine, too! Take this People! Tell not meOf rescripts, precedents, authorities,—But take them, from a heart that yearns to give!Find out their love,—I could not; find their fear,—I would not; find their like,—I never shall,Among the flowers![Taking off her coronet.Colombe of RavesteinThanks God she is no longer Duchess here!Val.[Advancing toGuibert.]Sir Guibert, knight, they call you—this of mineIs the first step I ever set at court.You dared make me your instrument, I find;For that, so sure as you and I are men,We reckon to the utmost presently:But as you are a courtier and I none,Your knowledge may instruct me. I, already,Have too far outraged, by my ignoranceOf courtier-ways, this lady, to proceedA second step and risk addressing her:—I am degraded—you let me address!Out of her presence, all is plain enoughWhat I shall do—but in her presence, too,Surely there's something proper to be done.[To the others.]You, gentles, tell me if I guess aright—May I not strike this man to earth?The Courtiers.[AsGuibertsprings forward, withholding him.]Let go!—The clothiers' spokesman, Guibert? Grace a churl?Duch.[ToValence.]Oh, be acquainted with your party, sir!He's of the oldest lineage Juliers boasts;A lion crests him for a cognizance;"Scorning to waver"—that 's his 'scutcheon's word;His office with the new Duke—probablyThe same in honor as with me; or more,By so much as this gallant turn deserves.He 's now, I dare say, of a thousand timesThe rank and influence that remain with herWhose part you take! So, lest for taking itYou suffer ...Val.I may strike him then to earth?Gui.[Falling on his knee.]Great and dear lady, pardon me! Hear once!Believe me and be merciful—be just!I could not bring myself to give that paperWithout a keener pang than I dared meet—And so felt Clugnet here, and Maufroy here—No one dared meet it. Protestation's cheap,—But, if to die for you did any good,[ToGaucelme.]Would not I die, sir? Say your worst of me!But it does no good, that's the mournful truth.And since the hint of a resistance, even,Would just precipitate, on you the first,A speedier ruin—I shall not deny,Saving myself indubitable pain,I thought to give you pleasure (who might say?)By showing that your only subject foundTo carry the sad notice was the manPrecisely ignorant of its contents;A nameless, mere provincial advocate;One whom 't was like you never saw before,Never would see again. All has gone wrong:But I meant right, God knows, and you, I trust!Duch.A nameless advocate, this gentleman?—(I pardon you, Sir Guibert!)Gui.[Rising, toValence.]Sir, and you?Val.—Rejoice that you are lightened of a load.Now, you have only me to reckon with.Duch.One I have never seen, much less obliged?Val.Dare I speak, lady?Duch.Dare you! Heard you notI rule no longer?Val.Lady, if your ruleWere based alone on such a ground as these[Pointing to theCourtiers.Could furnish you,—abjure it! They have hiddenA source of true dominion from your sight.Duch.You hear them—no such source is left ...Vol.Hear Cleves!Whose haggard craftsmen rose to starve this day,Starve now, and will lie down at night to starve,Sure of a like to-morrow—but as sureOf a most unlike morrow-after-that,Since end things must, end howsoe'er things may.What curbs the brute-force instinct in its hour?What makes—instead of rising, all as one,And teaching fingers, so expert to wieldTheir tool, the broadsword's play or carbine's trick,—What makes that there's an easier help, they think,For you, whose name so few of them can spell,Whose face scarce one in every hundred saw,—You simply have to understand their wrongs,And wrongs will vanish—so, still trades are plied,And swords lie rusting, and myself stand here?There is a vision in the heart of eachOf justice, mercy, wisdom, tendernessTo wrong and pain, and knowledge of its cure:And these embodied in a woman's formThat best transmits them, pure as first received,From God above her, to mankind below.Will you derive your rule from such a ground,Or rather hold it by the suffrage, say,Of this man—this—and this?Duch.[After a pause.]You come from Cleves:How many are at Cleves of such a mind?Val.[From his paper.]"We, all the manufacturers of Cleves—"Duch.Or stay, sir—lest I seem too covetous—Are you my subject? such as you describe,Am I to you, though to no other man?Val.[From his paper.]—"Valence, ordained your Advocate at Cleves"—Duch.[Replacing the coronet.]Then I remain Cleves' Duchess! Take you note,While Cleves but yields one subject of this stamp,I stand her lady till she waves me off!For her sake, all the Prince claims I withhold;Laugh at each menace; and, his power defying,Return his missive with its due contempt![Casting it away.Gui.[Picking it up.]—Which to the Prince I will deliver, lady,(Note it down, Gaucelme)—with your message too!Duch.I think the office is a subject's, sir!—Either ... how style you him?—my special guarderThe Marshal's—for who knows but violenceMay follow the delivery?—Or, perhaps,My Chancellor's—for law may be to urgeOn its receipt!—Or, even my Chamberlain's—For I may violate established form![ToValence.]Sir,—for the half-hour till this service ends,Will you become all these to me?Val.[Falling on his knee.]My liege!Duch.Give me![TheCourtierspresent their badges of office.[Putting them by.]Whatever was their virtue once,They need new consecration.[RaisingValence.]Are you mine?I will be Duchess yet![She retires.The Courtiers.Our Duchess yet!A glorious lady! Worthy love and dread!I'll stand by her,—and I, whate'er betide!Gui.[ToValence.]Well done, well done, sir! I care not who knows,You have done nobly and I envy you—Though I am but unfairly used, I think:For when one gets a place like this I hold,One gets too the remark that its mere wages,The pay and the preferment, make our prize.Talk about zeal and faith apart from these,We 're laughed at—much would zeal and faith subsistWithout these also! Yet, let these be stopped,Our wages discontinue,—then, indeed,Our zeal and faith, (we hear on every side,)Are not released—having been pledged awayI wonder, for what zeal and faith in turn?Hard money purchased me my place! No, no—I'm right, sir—but your wrong is better still,If I had time and skill to argue it.Therefore, I say, I 'll serve you, how you please—If you like,—fight you, as you seem to wish—(The kinder of me that, in sober truth,I never dreamed I did you any harm) ...Gau.—Or, kinder still, you 'll introduce, no doubt,His merits to the Prince who 's just at hand,And let no hint drop he 's made ChancellorAnd Chamberlain and Heaven knows what beside!Clug.[ToValence.]You stare, young sir, and threaten! Let me say,That at your age, when first I came to court,I was not much above a gentleman;While now ...Val.—You are Head-Lackey? With your officeI have not yet been graced, sir!Other Courtiers.[ToClugnet.]Let him talk!Fidelity, disinterestedness,Excuse so much! Men claim my worship everWho staunchly and steadfastly ...(EnterAdolf.)Adolf.The Prince arrives.Courtiers.Ha? How?Adolf.He leaves his guard a stage behindAt Aix, and enters almost by himself.1st Court.The Prince! This foolish business puts all out.2d Court.Let Gaucelme speak first!3d Court.Better I beganAbout the state of Juliers: should one sayAll 's prosperous and inviting him?4th Court.—Or rather,All 's prostrate and imploring him?5th Court.That's best.Where 's the Cleves' paper, by the way?4th Court.[ToValence.]Sir—sir—If you'll but lend that paper—trust it me,I 'll warrant ...5th Court.Softly, sir—the Marshal's duty!Clug.Has not the Chamberlain a hearing firstBy virtue of his patent?Gau.Patents?—Duties?All that, my masters, must begin again!One word composes the whole controversy:We're simply now—the Prince's!The Others.Ay—the Prince's!(EnterSabyne.)Sab.Adolf! Bid ... Oh, no time for ceremony!Where 's whom our lady calls her only subject?She needs him. Who is here the Duchess's?Val.[Starting from his reverie.]Most gratefully I follow to her feet.

Noon.Scene.The Presence-chamber.

TheDuchessandSabyne.

Duchess.Announce that I am ready for the court!

Sabyne.'T is scarcely audience-hour, I think; your GraceMay best consult your own relief, no doubt,And shun the crowd: but few can have arrived.

Sabyne.'T is scarcely audience-hour, I think; your Grace

May best consult your own relief, no doubt,

And shun the crowd: but few can have arrived.

Duch.Let those not yet arrived, then, keep away!'T was me, this day last year at Ravestein,You hurried. It has been full time, beside,This half-hour. Do you hesitate?

Duch.Let those not yet arrived, then, keep away!

'T was me, this day last year at Ravestein,

You hurried. It has been full time, beside,

This half-hour. Do you hesitate?

Sab.Forgive me!

Duch.Stay, Sabyne; let me hasten to make sureOf one true thanker: here with you beginsMy audience, claim you first its privilege!It is my birth's event they celebrate:You need not wish me more such happy days,But—ask some favor! Have you none to ask?Has Adolf none, then? this was far from leastOf much I waited for impatiently,Assure yourself! It seemed so naturalYour gift, beside this bunch of river-bells,Should be the power and leave of doing goodTo you, and greater pleasure to myself.You ask my leave to-day to marry Adolf?The rest is my concern.

Duch.Stay, Sabyne; let me hasten to make sure

Of one true thanker: here with you begins

My audience, claim you first its privilege!

It is my birth's event they celebrate:

You need not wish me more such happy days,

But—ask some favor! Have you none to ask?

Has Adolf none, then? this was far from least

Of much I waited for impatiently,

Assure yourself! It seemed so natural

Your gift, beside this bunch of river-bells,

Should be the power and leave of doing good

To you, and greater pleasure to myself.

You ask my leave to-day to marry Adolf?

The rest is my concern.

Sab.Your Grace is everOur lady of dear Ravestein,—but, for Adolf ...

Sab.Your Grace is ever

Our lady of dear Ravestein,—but, for Adolf ...

Duch."But"? You have not, sure, changed in your regardAnd purpose towards him?

Duch."But"? You have not, sure, changed in your regard

And purpose towards him?

Sab.We change?

Duch.Well then? Well?

Sab.How could we two be happy, and, most like,Leave Juliers, when—when ... but 't is audience-time!

Sab.How could we two be happy, and, most like,

Leave Juliers, when—when ... but 't is audience-time!

Duch."When, if you left me, I were left indeed!"Would you subjoin that? Bid the court approach!—Why should we play thus with each other, Sabyne?Do I not know, if courtiers prove remiss,If friends detain me, and get blame for it,There is a cause? Of last year's fervid throngScarce one half comes now.

Duch."When, if you left me, I were left indeed!"

Would you subjoin that? Bid the court approach!

—Why should we play thus with each other, Sabyne?

Do I not know, if courtiers prove remiss,

If friends detain me, and get blame for it,

There is a cause? Of last year's fervid throng

Scarce one half comes now.

Sab.[Aside.]One half? No, alas!

Duch.So can the mere suspicion of a cloudOver my fortunes, strike each loyal heart.They've heard of this Prince Berthold; and, forsooth,Some foolish arrogant pretence he makes,May grow more foolish and more arrogant,They please to apprehend! I thank their love.Admit them!

Duch.So can the mere suspicion of a cloud

Over my fortunes, strike each loyal heart.

They've heard of this Prince Berthold; and, forsooth,

Some foolish arrogant pretence he makes,

May grow more foolish and more arrogant,

They please to apprehend! I thank their love.

Admit them!

Sab.[Aside.]How much has she really learned?

Duch.Surely, whoever's absent, Tristan waits?—Or at least Romuald, whom my father raisedFrom nothing—come, he's faithful to me, come!(Sabyne, I should but be the prouder—yes,The fitter to comport myself aright)Not Romuald? Xavier—what said he to that?For Xavier hates a parasite, I know![Sabynegoes out.

Duch.Surely, whoever's absent, Tristan waits?

—Or at least Romuald, whom my father raised

From nothing—come, he's faithful to me, come!

(Sabyne, I should but be the prouder—yes,

The fitter to comport myself aright)

Not Romuald? Xavier—what said he to that?

For Xavier hates a parasite, I know![Sabynegoes out.

Duch.Well, sunshine's everywhere, and summer too.Next year 'tis the old place again, perhaps—The water-breeze again, the birds again.—It cannot be! It is too late to be!What part had I, or choice in all of it?Hither they brought me; I had not to thinkNor care, concern myself with doing goodOr ill, my task was just—to live,—to live,And, answering ends there was no need explain,To render Juliers happy—so they said.All could not have been falsehood: some was love,And wonder and obedience. I did allThey looked for: why then cease to do it now?Yet this is to be calmly set aside,And—ere next birthday's dawn, for aught I know,Things change, a claimant may arrive, and I ...It cannot nor it shall not be! His right?Well then, he has the right, and I have not,—But who bade all of you surround my lifeAnd close its growth up with your ducal crownWhich, plucked off rudely, leaves me perishing?I could have been like one of you,—loved, hoped,Feared, lived and died like one of you—but youWould take that life away and give me this,And I will keep this! I will face you! Come!

Duch.Well, sunshine's everywhere, and summer too.

Next year 'tis the old place again, perhaps—

The water-breeze again, the birds again.

—It cannot be! It is too late to be!

What part had I, or choice in all of it?

Hither they brought me; I had not to think

Nor care, concern myself with doing good

Or ill, my task was just—to live,—to live,

And, answering ends there was no need explain,

To render Juliers happy—so they said.

All could not have been falsehood: some was love,

And wonder and obedience. I did all

They looked for: why then cease to do it now?

Yet this is to be calmly set aside,

And—ere next birthday's dawn, for aught I know,

Things change, a claimant may arrive, and I ...

It cannot nor it shall not be! His right?

Well then, he has the right, and I have not,

—But who bade all of you surround my life

And close its growth up with your ducal crown

Which, plucked off rudely, leaves me perishing?

I could have been like one of you,—loved, hoped,

Feared, lived and died like one of you—but you

Would take that life away and give me this,

And I will keep this! I will face you! Come!

(Enter theCourtiersandValence.)

The Courtiers.Many such happy mornings to your Grace!

Duch.[Aside, as they pay their devoir.]The same words, the same faces,—the same love!I have been overfearful. These are few;But these, at least, stand firmly: these are mine.As many come as may; and if no more,'T is that these few suffice—they do suffice!What succor may not next year bring me? Plainly,I feared too soon.[To theCourtiers.]I thank you, sirs: all thanks!

Duch.[Aside, as they pay their devoir.]The same words, the same faces,—the same love!

I have been overfearful. These are few;

But these, at least, stand firmly: these are mine.

As many come as may; and if no more,

'T is that these few suffice—they do suffice!

What succor may not next year bring me? Plainly,

I feared too soon.[To theCourtiers.]I thank you, sirs: all thanks!

Val.[Aside, as theDuchesspasses from one group to another, conversing.]'T is she—the vision this day last year brought,When, for a golden moment at our Cleves,She tarried in her progress hither. ClevesChose me to speak its welcome, and I spoke—Not that she could have noted the recluse—Ungainly, old before his time—who gazed.Well, Heaven's gifts are not wasted, and that gazeKept, and shall keep me to the end, her own!She was above it—but so would not sinkMy gaze to earth! The People caught it, hers—Thenceforward, mine; but thus entirely mine,Who shall affirm, had she not raised my soulEre she retired and left me—them? She turns—There 's all her wondrous face at once! The groundReels and ...[Suddenly occupying himself with his paper.]These wrongs of theirs I have to plead!

Val.[Aside, as theDuchesspasses from one group to another, conversing.]'T is she—the vision this day last year brought,

When, for a golden moment at our Cleves,

She tarried in her progress hither. Cleves

Chose me to speak its welcome, and I spoke

—Not that she could have noted the recluse

—Ungainly, old before his time—who gazed.

Well, Heaven's gifts are not wasted, and that gaze

Kept, and shall keep me to the end, her own!

She was above it—but so would not sink

My gaze to earth! The People caught it, hers—

Thenceforward, mine; but thus entirely mine,

Who shall affirm, had she not raised my soul

Ere she retired and left me—them? She turns—

There 's all her wondrous face at once! The ground

Reels and ...[Suddenly occupying himself with his paper.]

These wrongs of theirs I have to plead!

Duch.[To theCourtiers.]Nay, compliment enough! and kindness' selfShould pause before it wish me more such years.'T was fortunate that thus, ere youth escaped,I tasted life's pure pleasure—one such, pure,Is worth a thousand, mixed—and youth 's for pleasure:Mine is received; let my age pay for it.

Duch.[To theCourtiers.]Nay, compliment enough! and kindness' self

Should pause before it wish me more such years.

'T was fortunate that thus, ere youth escaped,

I tasted life's pure pleasure—one such, pure,

Is worth a thousand, mixed—and youth 's for pleasure:

Mine is received; let my age pay for it.

Gau.So, pay, and pleasure paid for, thinks your Grace,Should never go together?

Gau.So, pay, and pleasure paid for, thinks your Grace,

Should never go together?

Gui.How, Sir Gaucelme?Hurry one's feast down unenjoyinglyAt the snatched breathing-intervals of work?As good you saved it till the dull day's-endWhen, stiff and sleepy, appetite is gone.Eat first, then work upon the strength of food!

Gui.How, Sir Gaucelme?

Hurry one's feast down unenjoyingly

At the snatched breathing-intervals of work?

As good you saved it till the dull day's-end

When, stiff and sleepy, appetite is gone.

Eat first, then work upon the strength of food!

Duch.True: you enable me to risk my future,By giving me a past beyond recall.I lived, a girl, one happy leisure year:Let me endeavor to be the Duchess now!And so,—what news, Sir Guibert, spoke you of?[As they advance a little, andGuibertspeaks——That gentleman?

Duch.True: you enable me to risk my future,

By giving me a past beyond recall.

I lived, a girl, one happy leisure year:

Let me endeavor to be the Duchess now!

And so,—what news, Sir Guibert, spoke you of?[As they advance a little, andGuibertspeaks—

—That gentleman?

Val.[Aside.]I feel her eyes on me.

Gui.[ToValence.]The Duchess, sir, inclines to hear your suit.Advance! He is from Cleves.

Gui.[ToValence.]The Duchess, sir, inclines to hear your suit.

Advance! He is from Cleves.

Val.[Coming forward.][Aside.]Their wrongs—their wrongs!

Duch.And you, sir, are from Cleves? How fresh in mind,The hour or two I passed at queenly Cleves!She entertained me bravely, but the bestOf her good pageant seemed its standers-byWith insuppressive joy on every face!What says my ancient famous happy Cleves?

Duch.And you, sir, are from Cleves? How fresh in mind,

The hour or two I passed at queenly Cleves!

She entertained me bravely, but the best

Of her good pageant seemed its standers-by

With insuppressive joy on every face!

What says my ancient famous happy Cleves?

Val.Take the truth, lady—you are made for truth!So think my friends: nor do they less deserveThe having you to take it, you shall think,When you know all—nay, when you only knowHow, on that day you recollect at Cleves,When the poor acquiescing multitudeWho thrust themselves with all their woes apartInto unnoticed corners, that the few,Their means sufficed to muster trappings for,Might fill the foreground, occupy your sightWith joyous faces fit to bear awayAnd boast of as a sample of all Cleves—How, when to daylight these crept out once more,Clutching, unconscious, each his empty ragsWhence the scant coin, which had not half bought bread,That morn he shook forth, counted piece by piece,And, well-advisedly, on perfumes spent themTo burn, or flowers to strew, before your path—How, when the golden flood of music and blissEbbed, as their moon retreated, and againLeft the sharp black-point rocks of misery bare—Then I, their friend, had only to suggest"Saw she the horror as she saw the pomp!"And as one man they cried, "He speaks the truth:Show her the horror! Take from our own mouthsOur wrongs and show them, she will see them too!"This they cried, lady! I have brought the wrongs.

Val.Take the truth, lady—you are made for truth!

So think my friends: nor do they less deserve

The having you to take it, you shall think,

When you know all—nay, when you only know

How, on that day you recollect at Cleves,

When the poor acquiescing multitude

Who thrust themselves with all their woes apart

Into unnoticed corners, that the few,

Their means sufficed to muster trappings for,

Might fill the foreground, occupy your sight

With joyous faces fit to bear away

And boast of as a sample of all Cleves

—How, when to daylight these crept out once more,

Clutching, unconscious, each his empty rags

Whence the scant coin, which had not half bought bread,

That morn he shook forth, counted piece by piece,

And, well-advisedly, on perfumes spent them

To burn, or flowers to strew, before your path

—How, when the golden flood of music and bliss

Ebbed, as their moon retreated, and again

Left the sharp black-point rocks of misery bare

—Then I, their friend, had only to suggest

"Saw she the horror as she saw the pomp!"

And as one man they cried, "He speaks the truth:

Show her the horror! Take from our own mouths

Our wrongs and show them, she will see them too!"

This they cried, lady! I have brought the wrongs.

Duch.Wrongs? Cleves has wrongs—apparent now and thus?I thank you! In that paper? Give it me!

Duch.Wrongs? Cleves has wrongs—apparent now and thus?

I thank you! In that paper? Give it me!

Val.(There, Cleves!) In this! (What did I promise, Cleves?)Our weavers, clothiers, spinners are reducedSince ... Oh, I crave your pardon! I forgetI buy the privilege of this approach,And promptly would discharge my debt. I layThis paper humbly at the Duchess' feet.[PresentingGuibert'spaper.

Val.(There, Cleves!) In this! (What did I promise, Cleves?)

Our weavers, clothiers, spinners are reduced

Since ... Oh, I crave your pardon! I forget

I buy the privilege of this approach,

And promptly would discharge my debt. I lay

This paper humbly at the Duchess' feet.

[PresentingGuibert'spaper.

Gui.Stay! for the present ...

Duch.Stay, sir? I take aughtThat teaches me their wrongs with greater prideThan this your ducal circlet. Thank you, sir![TheDuchessreads hastily; then, turning to theCourtiers—What have I done to you? Your deed or mineWas it, this crowning me? I gave myselfNo more a title to your homage, no,Than church-flowers, born this season, wrote the wordsIn the saint's-book that sanctified them first.For such a flower, you plucked me; well, you erred—Well, 't was a weed; remove the eye-sore quick!But should you not remember it has lainSteeped in the candles' glory, palely shrined,Nearer God's Mother than most earthly things?—That if 't be faded 't is with prayer's sole breath—That the one day it boasted was God's day?Still, I do thank you! Had you used respect,Here might I dwindle to my last white leaf,Here lose life's latest freshness, which even yetMay yield some wandering insect rest and food:So, fling me forth, and—all is best for all![After a pause.]Prince Berthold, who art Juliers' Duke it seems—The King's choice, and the Emperor's, and the Pope's—Be mine, too! Take this People! Tell not meOf rescripts, precedents, authorities,—But take them, from a heart that yearns to give!Find out their love,—I could not; find their fear,—I would not; find their like,—I never shall,Among the flowers![Taking off her coronet.Colombe of RavesteinThanks God she is no longer Duchess here!

Duch.Stay, sir? I take aught

That teaches me their wrongs with greater pride

Than this your ducal circlet. Thank you, sir!

[TheDuchessreads hastily; then, turning to theCourtiers—

What have I done to you? Your deed or mine

Was it, this crowning me? I gave myself

No more a title to your homage, no,

Than church-flowers, born this season, wrote the words

In the saint's-book that sanctified them first.

For such a flower, you plucked me; well, you erred—

Well, 't was a weed; remove the eye-sore quick!

But should you not remember it has lain

Steeped in the candles' glory, palely shrined,

Nearer God's Mother than most earthly things?

—That if 't be faded 't is with prayer's sole breath—

That the one day it boasted was God's day?

Still, I do thank you! Had you used respect,

Here might I dwindle to my last white leaf,

Here lose life's latest freshness, which even yet

May yield some wandering insect rest and food:

So, fling me forth, and—all is best for all!

[After a pause.]Prince Berthold, who art Juliers' Duke it seems—

The King's choice, and the Emperor's, and the Pope's—

Be mine, too! Take this People! Tell not me

Of rescripts, precedents, authorities,

—But take them, from a heart that yearns to give!

Find out their love,—I could not; find their fear,—

I would not; find their like,—I never shall,

Among the flowers![Taking off her coronet.

Colombe of Ravestein

Thanks God she is no longer Duchess here!

Val.[Advancing toGuibert.]Sir Guibert, knight, they call you—this of mineIs the first step I ever set at court.You dared make me your instrument, I find;For that, so sure as you and I are men,We reckon to the utmost presently:But as you are a courtier and I none,Your knowledge may instruct me. I, already,Have too far outraged, by my ignoranceOf courtier-ways, this lady, to proceedA second step and risk addressing her:—I am degraded—you let me address!Out of her presence, all is plain enoughWhat I shall do—but in her presence, too,Surely there's something proper to be done.[To the others.]You, gentles, tell me if I guess aright—May I not strike this man to earth?

Val.[Advancing toGuibert.]Sir Guibert, knight, they call you—this of mine

Is the first step I ever set at court.

You dared make me your instrument, I find;

For that, so sure as you and I are men,

We reckon to the utmost presently:

But as you are a courtier and I none,

Your knowledge may instruct me. I, already,

Have too far outraged, by my ignorance

Of courtier-ways, this lady, to proceed

A second step and risk addressing her:

—I am degraded—you let me address!

Out of her presence, all is plain enough

What I shall do—but in her presence, too,

Surely there's something proper to be done.

[To the others.]You, gentles, tell me if I guess aright—

May I not strike this man to earth?

The Courtiers.[AsGuibertsprings forward, withholding him.]Let go!—The clothiers' spokesman, Guibert? Grace a churl?

The Courtiers.[AsGuibertsprings forward, withholding him.]Let go!

—The clothiers' spokesman, Guibert? Grace a churl?

Duch.[ToValence.]Oh, be acquainted with your party, sir!He's of the oldest lineage Juliers boasts;A lion crests him for a cognizance;"Scorning to waver"—that 's his 'scutcheon's word;His office with the new Duke—probablyThe same in honor as with me; or more,By so much as this gallant turn deserves.He 's now, I dare say, of a thousand timesThe rank and influence that remain with herWhose part you take! So, lest for taking itYou suffer ...

Duch.[ToValence.]Oh, be acquainted with your party, sir!

He's of the oldest lineage Juliers boasts;

A lion crests him for a cognizance;

"Scorning to waver"—that 's his 'scutcheon's word;

His office with the new Duke—probably

The same in honor as with me; or more,

By so much as this gallant turn deserves.

He 's now, I dare say, of a thousand times

The rank and influence that remain with her

Whose part you take! So, lest for taking it

You suffer ...

Val.I may strike him then to earth?

Gui.[Falling on his knee.]Great and dear lady, pardon me! Hear once!Believe me and be merciful—be just!I could not bring myself to give that paperWithout a keener pang than I dared meet—And so felt Clugnet here, and Maufroy here—No one dared meet it. Protestation's cheap,—But, if to die for you did any good,[ToGaucelme.]Would not I die, sir? Say your worst of me!But it does no good, that's the mournful truth.And since the hint of a resistance, even,Would just precipitate, on you the first,A speedier ruin—I shall not deny,Saving myself indubitable pain,I thought to give you pleasure (who might say?)By showing that your only subject foundTo carry the sad notice was the manPrecisely ignorant of its contents;A nameless, mere provincial advocate;One whom 't was like you never saw before,Never would see again. All has gone wrong:But I meant right, God knows, and you, I trust!

Gui.[Falling on his knee.]Great and dear lady, pardon me! Hear once!

Believe me and be merciful—be just!

I could not bring myself to give that paper

Without a keener pang than I dared meet

—And so felt Clugnet here, and Maufroy here

—No one dared meet it. Protestation's cheap,—

But, if to die for you did any good,

[ToGaucelme.]Would not I die, sir? Say your worst of me!

But it does no good, that's the mournful truth.

And since the hint of a resistance, even,

Would just precipitate, on you the first,

A speedier ruin—I shall not deny,

Saving myself indubitable pain,

I thought to give you pleasure (who might say?)

By showing that your only subject found

To carry the sad notice was the man

Precisely ignorant of its contents;

A nameless, mere provincial advocate;

One whom 't was like you never saw before,

Never would see again. All has gone wrong:

But I meant right, God knows, and you, I trust!

Duch.A nameless advocate, this gentleman?—(I pardon you, Sir Guibert!)

Duch.A nameless advocate, this gentleman?

—(I pardon you, Sir Guibert!)

Gui.[Rising, toValence.]Sir, and you?

Val.—Rejoice that you are lightened of a load.Now, you have only me to reckon with.

Val.—Rejoice that you are lightened of a load.

Now, you have only me to reckon with.

Duch.One I have never seen, much less obliged?

Val.Dare I speak, lady?

Duch.Dare you! Heard you notI rule no longer?

Duch.Dare you! Heard you not

I rule no longer?

Val.Lady, if your ruleWere based alone on such a ground as these[Pointing to theCourtiers.Could furnish you,—abjure it! They have hiddenA source of true dominion from your sight.

Val.Lady, if your rule

Were based alone on such a ground as these[Pointing to theCourtiers.

Could furnish you,—abjure it! They have hidden

A source of true dominion from your sight.

Duch.You hear them—no such source is left ...

Vol.Hear Cleves!Whose haggard craftsmen rose to starve this day,Starve now, and will lie down at night to starve,Sure of a like to-morrow—but as sureOf a most unlike morrow-after-that,Since end things must, end howsoe'er things may.What curbs the brute-force instinct in its hour?What makes—instead of rising, all as one,And teaching fingers, so expert to wieldTheir tool, the broadsword's play or carbine's trick,—What makes that there's an easier help, they think,For you, whose name so few of them can spell,Whose face scarce one in every hundred saw,—You simply have to understand their wrongs,And wrongs will vanish—so, still trades are plied,And swords lie rusting, and myself stand here?There is a vision in the heart of eachOf justice, mercy, wisdom, tendernessTo wrong and pain, and knowledge of its cure:And these embodied in a woman's formThat best transmits them, pure as first received,From God above her, to mankind below.Will you derive your rule from such a ground,Or rather hold it by the suffrage, say,Of this man—this—and this?

Vol.Hear Cleves!

Whose haggard craftsmen rose to starve this day,

Starve now, and will lie down at night to starve,

Sure of a like to-morrow—but as sure

Of a most unlike morrow-after-that,

Since end things must, end howsoe'er things may.

What curbs the brute-force instinct in its hour?

What makes—instead of rising, all as one,

And teaching fingers, so expert to wield

Their tool, the broadsword's play or carbine's trick,

—What makes that there's an easier help, they think,

For you, whose name so few of them can spell,

Whose face scarce one in every hundred saw,—

You simply have to understand their wrongs,

And wrongs will vanish—so, still trades are plied,

And swords lie rusting, and myself stand here?

There is a vision in the heart of each

Of justice, mercy, wisdom, tenderness

To wrong and pain, and knowledge of its cure:

And these embodied in a woman's form

That best transmits them, pure as first received,

From God above her, to mankind below.

Will you derive your rule from such a ground,

Or rather hold it by the suffrage, say,

Of this man—this—and this?

Duch.[After a pause.]You come from Cleves:How many are at Cleves of such a mind?

Duch.[After a pause.]You come from Cleves:

How many are at Cleves of such a mind?

Val.[From his paper.]"We, all the manufacturers of Cleves—"

Duch.Or stay, sir—lest I seem too covetous—Are you my subject? such as you describe,Am I to you, though to no other man?

Duch.Or stay, sir—lest I seem too covetous—

Are you my subject? such as you describe,

Am I to you, though to no other man?

Val.[From his paper.]—"Valence, ordained your Advocate at Cleves"—

Duch.[Replacing the coronet.]Then I remain Cleves' Duchess! Take you note,While Cleves but yields one subject of this stamp,I stand her lady till she waves me off!For her sake, all the Prince claims I withhold;Laugh at each menace; and, his power defying,Return his missive with its due contempt![Casting it away.

Duch.[Replacing the coronet.]Then I remain Cleves' Duchess! Take you note,

While Cleves but yields one subject of this stamp,

I stand her lady till she waves me off!

For her sake, all the Prince claims I withhold;

Laugh at each menace; and, his power defying,

Return his missive with its due contempt![Casting it away.

Gui.[Picking it up.]—Which to the Prince I will deliver, lady,(Note it down, Gaucelme)—with your message too!

Gui.[Picking it up.]—Which to the Prince I will deliver, lady,

(Note it down, Gaucelme)—with your message too!

Duch.I think the office is a subject's, sir!—Either ... how style you him?—my special guarderThe Marshal's—for who knows but violenceMay follow the delivery?—Or, perhaps,My Chancellor's—for law may be to urgeOn its receipt!—Or, even my Chamberlain's—For I may violate established form![ToValence.]Sir,—for the half-hour till this service ends,Will you become all these to me?

Duch.I think the office is a subject's, sir!

—Either ... how style you him?—my special guarder

The Marshal's—for who knows but violence

May follow the delivery?—Or, perhaps,

My Chancellor's—for law may be to urge

On its receipt!—Or, even my Chamberlain's—

For I may violate established form!

[ToValence.]Sir,—for the half-hour till this service ends,

Will you become all these to me?

Val.[Falling on his knee.]My liege!

Duch.Give me![TheCourtierspresent their badges of office.[Putting them by.]Whatever was their virtue once,They need new consecration.[RaisingValence.]Are you mine?I will be Duchess yet![She retires.

Duch.Give me![TheCourtierspresent their badges of office.

[Putting them by.]Whatever was their virtue once,

They need new consecration.[RaisingValence.]Are you mine?

I will be Duchess yet![She retires.

The Courtiers.Our Duchess yet!A glorious lady! Worthy love and dread!I'll stand by her,—and I, whate'er betide!

The Courtiers.Our Duchess yet!

A glorious lady! Worthy love and dread!

I'll stand by her,—and I, whate'er betide!

Gui.[ToValence.]Well done, well done, sir! I care not who knows,You have done nobly and I envy you—Though I am but unfairly used, I think:For when one gets a place like this I hold,One gets too the remark that its mere wages,The pay and the preferment, make our prize.Talk about zeal and faith apart from these,We 're laughed at—much would zeal and faith subsistWithout these also! Yet, let these be stopped,Our wages discontinue,—then, indeed,Our zeal and faith, (we hear on every side,)Are not released—having been pledged awayI wonder, for what zeal and faith in turn?Hard money purchased me my place! No, no—I'm right, sir—but your wrong is better still,If I had time and skill to argue it.Therefore, I say, I 'll serve you, how you please—If you like,—fight you, as you seem to wish—(The kinder of me that, in sober truth,I never dreamed I did you any harm) ...

Gui.[ToValence.]Well done, well done, sir! I care not who knows,

You have done nobly and I envy you—

Though I am but unfairly used, I think:

For when one gets a place like this I hold,

One gets too the remark that its mere wages,

The pay and the preferment, make our prize.

Talk about zeal and faith apart from these,

We 're laughed at—much would zeal and faith subsist

Without these also! Yet, let these be stopped,

Our wages discontinue,—then, indeed,

Our zeal and faith, (we hear on every side,)

Are not released—having been pledged away

I wonder, for what zeal and faith in turn?

Hard money purchased me my place! No, no—

I'm right, sir—but your wrong is better still,

If I had time and skill to argue it.

Therefore, I say, I 'll serve you, how you please—

If you like,—fight you, as you seem to wish—

(The kinder of me that, in sober truth,

I never dreamed I did you any harm) ...

Gau.—Or, kinder still, you 'll introduce, no doubt,His merits to the Prince who 's just at hand,And let no hint drop he 's made ChancellorAnd Chamberlain and Heaven knows what beside!

Gau.—Or, kinder still, you 'll introduce, no doubt,

His merits to the Prince who 's just at hand,

And let no hint drop he 's made Chancellor

And Chamberlain and Heaven knows what beside!

Clug.[ToValence.]You stare, young sir, and threaten! Let me say,That at your age, when first I came to court,I was not much above a gentleman;While now ...

Clug.[ToValence.]You stare, young sir, and threaten! Let me say,

That at your age, when first I came to court,

I was not much above a gentleman;

While now ...

Val.—You are Head-Lackey? With your officeI have not yet been graced, sir!

Val.—You are Head-Lackey? With your office

I have not yet been graced, sir!

Other Courtiers.[ToClugnet.]Let him talk!Fidelity, disinterestedness,Excuse so much! Men claim my worship everWho staunchly and steadfastly ...

Other Courtiers.[ToClugnet.]Let him talk!

Fidelity, disinterestedness,

Excuse so much! Men claim my worship ever

Who staunchly and steadfastly ...

(EnterAdolf.)

Adolf.The Prince arrives.

Courtiers.Ha? How?

Adolf.He leaves his guard a stage behindAt Aix, and enters almost by himself.

Adolf.He leaves his guard a stage behind

At Aix, and enters almost by himself.

1st Court.The Prince! This foolish business puts all out.

2d Court.Let Gaucelme speak first!

3d Court.Better I beganAbout the state of Juliers: should one sayAll 's prosperous and inviting him?

3d Court.Better I began

About the state of Juliers: should one say

All 's prosperous and inviting him?

4th Court.—Or rather,All 's prostrate and imploring him?

4th Court.—Or rather,

All 's prostrate and imploring him?

5th Court.That's best.Where 's the Cleves' paper, by the way?

5th Court.That's best.

Where 's the Cleves' paper, by the way?

4th Court.[ToValence.]Sir—sir—If you'll but lend that paper—trust it me,I 'll warrant ...

4th Court.[ToValence.]Sir—sir—

If you'll but lend that paper—trust it me,

I 'll warrant ...

5th Court.Softly, sir—the Marshal's duty!

Clug.Has not the Chamberlain a hearing firstBy virtue of his patent?

Clug.Has not the Chamberlain a hearing first

By virtue of his patent?

Gau.Patents?—Duties?All that, my masters, must begin again!One word composes the whole controversy:We're simply now—the Prince's!

Gau.Patents?—Duties?

All that, my masters, must begin again!

One word composes the whole controversy:

We're simply now—the Prince's!

The Others.Ay—the Prince's!

(EnterSabyne.)

Sab.Adolf! Bid ... Oh, no time for ceremony!Where 's whom our lady calls her only subject?She needs him. Who is here the Duchess's?

Sab.Adolf! Bid ... Oh, no time for ceremony!

Where 's whom our lady calls her only subject?

She needs him. Who is here the Duchess's?

Val.[Starting from his reverie.]Most gratefully I follow to her feet.

Afternoon.Scene.The Vestibule.EnterPrince BertholdandMelchior.Berthold.A thriving little burgh this Juliers looks.[Half-apart.] Keep Juliers, and as good you kept Cologne:Better try Aix, though!—Melchior.Please 't your Highness speak?Berth.[As before.]Aix, Cologne, Frankfort,—Milan;—Rome!—Mel.The Grave.More weary seems your Highness, I remark,Than sundry conquerors whose path I've watchedThrough fire and blood to any prize they gain.I could well wish you, for your proper sake,Had met some shade of opposition here—Found a blunt seneschal refuse unlock,Or a scared usher lead your steps astray.You must not look for next achievement's palmSo easily: this will hurt your conquering.Berth.My next? Ay, as you say, my next and next!Well, I am tired, that's truth, and moody too,This quiet entrance-morning: listen why!Our little burgh, now, Juliers—'t is indeedOne link, however insignificant,Of the great chain by which I reach my hope,—A link I must secure; but otherwise,You 'd wonder I esteem it worth my grasp.Just see what life is, with its shifts and turns!It happens now—this very nook—to beA place that once ... not a long while since, neither—When I lived an ambiguous hanger-onOf foreign courts, and bore my claims about,Discarded by one kinsman, and the otherA poor priest merely,—then, I say, this placeShone my ambition's object; to be Duke—Seemed then, what to be Emperor seems now.My rights were far from judged as plain and sureIn those days as of late, I promise you:And 't was my day-dream, Lady Colombe hereMight e'en compound the matter, pity me,Be struck, say, with my chivalry and grace(I was a boy!)—bestow her hand at length,And make me Duke, in her right if not mine.Here am I, Duke confessed, at Juliers now.Hearken: if ever I be Emperor,Remind me what I felt and said to-day!Mel.All this consoles a bookish man like me.—And so will weariness cling to you. Wrong,Wrong! Had you sought the lady's court yourself,—Faced the redoubtables composing it,Flattered this, threatened that man, bribed the other,—Pleaded by writ and word and deed, your cause,—Conquered a footing inch by painful inch,—And, after long years' struggle, pounced at lastOn her for prize,—the right life had been lived,And justice done to divers facultiesShut in that brow. Yourself were visibleAs you stood victor, then; whom now—(your pardon!)I am forced narrowly to search and see,So are you hid by helps—this Pope, your uncle—Your cousin, the other King! You are a mind,—They, body: too much of mere legs-and-armsObstructs the mind so! Match these with their like:Match mind with mind!Berth.And where's your mind to match?They show me legs-and-arms to cope withal!I'd subjugate this city—where's its mind?(TheCourtiersenter slowly.)Mel.Got out of sight when you came troops and all!And in its stead, here greets you flesh-and-blood:A smug economy of both, this first![AsClugnetbows obsequiously.Well done, gout, all considered!—I may go?Berth.Help me receive them!Mel.Oh, they just will sayWhat yesterday at Aix their fellows said,—At Treves, the day before! Sir Prince, my friend,Why do you let your life slip thus?—Meantime,I have my little Juliers to achieve—The understanding this tough Platonist,Your holy uncle disinterred, Amelius:Lend me a company of horse and foot,To help me through his tractate—gain my Duchy!Berth.And Empire, after that is gained, will be—?Mel.To help me through your uncle's comment, Prince![Goes.Berth.Ah? Well: he o'er-refines—the scholar's fault!How do I let my life slip? Say, this life,I lead now, differs from the common lifeOf other men in mere degree, not kind,Of joys and griefs,—still there is such degreeMere largeness in a life is something, sure,—Enough to care about and struggle for,In this world: for this world, the size of things;The sort of things, for that to come, no doubt.A great is better than a little aim:And when I wooed Priscilla's rosy mouthAnd failed so, under that gray convent-wall,Was I more happy than I should be now[By this time, theCourtiersare ranged before him.If failing of my Empire? Not a whit.—Here comes the mind, it once had tasked me soreTo baffle, but for my advantages!All's best as 'tis: these scholars talk and talk.[Seats himself.The Courtiers.Welcome our Prince to Juliers!—to his heritage!Our dutifullest service proffer we!Clug.I, please your Highness, having exercisedThe function of Grand Chamberlain at court,With much acceptance, as men testify ...Berth.I cannot greatly thank you, gentlemen!The Pope declares my claim to the Duchy foundedOn strictest justice—you concede it, therefore,I do not wonder: and the kings my friendsProtest they mean to see such claim enforced,—You easily may offer to assist.But there's a slight discretionary powerTo serve me in the matter, you've had long,Though late you use it. This is well to say—But could you not have said it months ago?I'm not denied my own Duke's truncheon, true—'T is flung me—I stoop down, and from the groundPick it, with all you placid standers-by:And now I have it, gems and mire at once,Grace go with it to my soiled hands, you say!Gui.(By Paul, the advocate our doughty friendCuts the best figure!)Gau.If our ignoranceMay have offended, sure our loyalty ...Berth.Loyalty? Yours? Oh—of yourselves you speak!I mean the Duchess all this time, I hope!And since I have been forced repeat my claimsAs if they never had been urged before,As I began, so must I end, it seems.The formal answer to the grave demand!What says the lady?Courtiers.[One to another.]1st Court.Marshal!2d Court.Orator!Gui.A variation of our mistress' way!Wipe off his boots' dust, Clugnet!—that, he waits!1st Court.Your place!2d Court.Just now it was your own!Gui.The devil's!Berth.[ToGuibert.]Come forward, friend—you with the paper, there!Is Juliers the first city I've obtained?By this time, I may boast proficiencyIn each decorum of the circumstance.Give it me as she gave it?—the petition,Demand, you style it! What 's required, in brief?What title's reservation, appanage'sAllowance? I heard all at Treves, last week.Gau.[ToGuibert.]"Give it him as she gave it!"Gui.And why not?[ToBerthold.]The lady crushed your summons thus together,And bade me, with the very greatest scornSo fair a frame could hold, inform you ...Courtiers.Stop—Idiot!Gui.—Inform you she denied your claim,Defied yourself! (I tread upon his heel,The blustering advocate!)Berth.By heaven and earth!Dare you jest, sir?Gui.Did they at Treves, last week?Berth.[Starting up.]Why then, I look much bolder than I knew,And you prove better actors than I thought:Since, as I live, I took you as you enteredFor just so many dearest friends of mine,Fled from the sinking to the rising power—The sneaking'st crew, in short, I e'er despised!Whereas, I am alone here for the moment,With every soldier left behind at Aix!Silence? That means the worst? I thought as much!What follows next?Courtiers.Gracious Prince—he raves!Gui.He asked the truth and why not get the truth?Berth.Am I a prisoner? Speak, will somebody?—But why stand paltering with imbeciles?Let me see her, or ...Gui.Her, without her leave,Shall no one see: she 's Duchess yet!Courtiers.[Footsteps without, as they are disputing.]Good chance!She 's here—the Lady Colombe's self!Berth.'T is well![Aside.] Array a handful thus against my world?Not ill done, truly! Were not this a mindTo match one's mind with? Colombe! Let us wait!I failed so, under that gray convent wall!She comes.Gui.The Duchess! Strangers, range yourselves![As theDuchessenters in conversation withValence,Bertholdand theCourtiersfall back a little.Duch.Presagefully it beats, presagefully,My heart: the right is Berthold's and not mine.Val.Grant that he has the right, dare I mistrustYour power to acquiesce so patientlyAs you believe, in such a dream-like changeOf fortune—change abrupt, profound, complete?Duch.Ah, the first bitterness is over now!Bitter I may have felt it to confrontThe truth, and ascertain those natures' valueI had so counted on; that was a pang:But I did bear it, and the worst is over.Let the Prince take them!Val.And take Juliers too?—Your people without crosses, wands and chains—Only with hearts?Duch.There I feel guilty, sir!I cannot give up what I never had:For I ruled these, not them—these stood between.Shall I confess, sir? I have heard by stealthOf Berthold from the first; more news and more:Closer and closer swam the thunder cloud,But I was safely housed with these, I knew.At times when to the casement I would turn,At a bird's passage or a flower-trail's play,I caught the storm's red glimpses on its edge—Yet I was sure some one of all these friendsWould interpose: I followed the bird's flightOr plucked the flower—some one would interpose!Val.Not one thought on the People—and Cleves there!Duch.Now, sadly conscious my real sway was missed,Its shadow goes without so much regret:Else could I not again thus calmly bid you,Answer Prince Berthold!Val.Then you acquiesce?Duch.Remember over whom it was I ruled!Gui.[Stepping forward.]Prince Berthold, yonder, craves an audience, lady!Duch.[ToValence.]I only have to turn, and I shall facePrince Berthold! Oh, my very heart is sick!It is the daughter of a line of DukesThis scornful insolent adventurerWill bid depart from my dead father's halls!I shall not answer him—dispute with him—But, as he bids, depart! Prevent it, sir!Sir—but a mere day's respite! Urge for me—What I shall call to mind I should have urgedWhen time's gone by—'t will all be mine, you urge!A day—an hour—that I myself may layMy rule down! 'T is too sudden—must not be!The world's to hear of it! Once done—forever!How will it read, sir? How be sung about?Prevent it!Berth.[Approaching.]Your frank indignation, lady,Cannot escape me. Overbold I seem;But somewhat should be pardoned my surpriseAt this reception,—this defiance, rather.And if, for their and your sake, I rejoiceYour virtues could inspire a trusty fewTo make such gallant stand in your behalf,I cannot but be sorry, for my own,Your friends should force me to retrace my steps:Since I no longer am permitted speakAfter the pleasant peaceful course prescribedNo less by courtesy than relationship—Which I remember, if you once forgot.But never must attack pass unrepelled.Suffer that, through you, I demand of these,Who controverts my claim to Juliers?Duch.—MeYou say, you do not speak to—Berth.Of your subjectsI ask, then: whom do you accredit? WhereStand those should answer?Val.[Advancing.]The lady is alone.Berth.Alone, and thus? So weak and yet so bold?Val.I said she was alone—Berth.And weak, I said.Val.When is man strong until he feels alone?It was some lonely strength at first, be sure,Created organs, such as those you seek,By which to give its varied purpose shape:And, naming the selected ministrants,Took sword, and shield, and sceptre,—each, a man!That strength performed its work and passed its way:You see our lady: there, the old shapes stand!—A Marshal, Chamberlain, and Chancellor—"Be helped their way, into their death put lifeAnd find advantage!"—so you counsel us.But let strength feel alone, seek help itself,—And, as the inland-hatched sea-creature huntsThe sea's breast out,—as, littered 'mid the wavesThe desert-brute makes for the desert's joy,So turns our lady to her true resource,Passing o'er hollow fictions, worn-out types,—And I am first her instinct fastens on.And prompt I say, as clear as heart can speak,The People will not have you; nor shall have!It is not merely I shall go bring ClevesAnd fight you to the last,—though that does much,And men and children,—ay, and women too,Fighting for home, are rather to be fearedThan mercenaries fighting for their pay—But, say you beat us, since such things have been,And, where this Juliers laughed, you set your footUpon a steaming bloody plash—what then?Stand you the more our lord that there you stand?Lord it o'er troops whose force you concentrate,A pillared flame whereto all ardors tend—Lord it 'mid priests whose schemes you amplify,A cloud of smoke 'neath which all shadows brood—But never, in this gentle spot of earth,Can you become our Colombe, our play-queen,For whom, to furnish lilies for her hair,We'd pour our veins forth to enrich the soil!—Our conqueror? Yes!—Our despot? Yes!—Our Duke?Know yourself, know us!Berth.[Who has been in thought.]Know your lady, also![Very deferentially.]—To whom I needs must exculpate myselfFor having made a rash demand, at least.Wherefore to you, sir, who appear to beHer chief adviser, I submit my claims,[Giving papers.But, this step taken, take no further step,Until the Duchess shall pronounce their worth.Here be our meeting-place; at night, its time:Till when I humbly take the lady's leave![He withdraws. As theDuchessturns toValence,theCourtiersinterchange glances and come forward a little.1st Court.So, this was their device!2d Court.No bad device!3d Court.You'd say they love each other, Guibert's friendFrom Cleves, and she, the Duchess!4th Court.—And moreover,That all Prince Berthold comes for, is to helpTheir loves!5th Court.Pray, Guibert; what is next to do?Gui.[Advancing.]I laid my office at the Duchess' foot—Others.And I—and I—and I!Duch.I took them, sirs.Gui.[Apart toValence.]And now, sir, I am simple knight again—Guibert, of the great ancient house, as yetThat never bore affront; whate'er your birth,—As things stand now, I recognize yourself(If you'll accept experience of some date)As like to be the leading man o' the time,Therefore as much above me now, as ISeemed above you this morning. Then, I offeredTo fight you: will you be as generousAnd now fight me?Val.Ask when my life is mine!Gui.('Tis hers now!)Clug.[Apart toValence,asGuibertturns from him.]You, sir, have insulted meGrossly,—will grant me, too, the selfsame favorYou 've granted him, just now, I make no question?Val.I promise you, as him, sir.Clug.Do you so?Handsomely said! I hold you to it, sir.You 'll get me reinstated in my officeAs you will Guibert!Duch.I would be alone![They begin to retire slowly: asValenceis about to follow—Alone, sir—only with my heart: you stay!Gau.You hear that? Ah, light breaks upon me! Cleves—It was at Cleves some man harangued us all—With great effect,—so those who listened said,My thoughts being busy elsewhere: was this he?Guibert,—your strange, disinterested man!Your uncorrupted, if uncourtly friend!The modest worth you mean to patronize!He cares about no Duchesses, not he!His sole concern is with the wrongs of Cleves!What, Guibert? What, it breaks on you at last?Gui.Would this hall's floor were a mine's roof! I'd backAnd in her very face ...Gau.Apply the matchThat fired the train,—and where would you be, pray?Gui.With him!Gau.Stand, rather, safe outside with me!The mine 's charged: shall I furnish you the matchAnd place you properly? To the antechamber!Gui.Can you?Gau.Try me! Your friend 's in fortune!Gui.Quick—To the antechamber! He is pale with bliss!Gau.No wonder! Mark her eyes!Gui.To the antechamber![TheCourtiersretire.Duch.Sir, could you know all you have done for meYou were content! You spoke, and I am saved.Val.Be not too sanguine, lady! Ere you dream,That transient flush of generosityFades off, perchance! The man, beside, is gone,—Him we might bend; but see, the papers here—Inalterably his requirement stays,And cold hard words have we to deal with now.In that large eye there seemed a latent pride,To self-denial not incompetent,But very like to hold itself dispensedFrom such a grace: however, let us hope!He is a noble spirit in noble form.I wish he less had bent that brow to smileAs with the fancy how he could subjectHimself upon occasion to—himself!From rudeness, violence, you rest secure;But do not think your Duchy rescued yet!Duch.You, who have opened a new world to me,Will never take the faded language upOf that I leave? My Duchy—keeping it,Or losing it—is that my sole world now?Val.Ill have I spoken if you thence despiseJuliers; although the lowest, on true grounds,Be worth more than the highest rule, on false:Aspire to rule, on the true grounds!Duch.Nay, hear—False, I will never—rash, I would not be!This is indeed my birthday—soul and body,Its hours have done on me the work of years.You hold the requisition: ponder it!If I have right, my duty's plain: if he—Say so, nor ever change a tone of voice!At night you meet the Prince; meet me at eve!Till when, farewell! This discomposes you?Believe in your own nature, and its forceOf renovating mine! I take my standOnly as under me the earth is firm:So, prove the first step stable, all will prove.That first, I choose—[Laying her hand on his]—the next to take, choose you![She withdraws.Val.[After a pause.]What drew down this on me?—on me, dead once,She thus bids live,—since all I hithertoThought dead in me, youth's ardors and emprise,Burst into life before her, as she bidsWho needs them. Whither will this reach, where end?Her hand's print burns on mine ... Yet she 's above—So very far above me! All 's too plain:I served her when the others sank away,And she rewards me as such souls reward—The changed voice, the suffusion of the cheek,The eye's acceptance, the expressive hand,—Reward, that 's little, in her generous thought,Though all to me ...I cannot so disclaimHeaven's gift, nor call it other than it is!She loves me![Looking at thePrince'spapers.]—Which love, these, perchance, forbid.Can I decide against myself—pronounceShe is the Duchess and no mate for me?—Cleves, help me! Teach me,—every haggard face,—To sorrow and endure! I will do rightWhatever be the issue. Help me, Cleves!

Afternoon.Scene.The Vestibule.

EnterPrince BertholdandMelchior.

Berthold.A thriving little burgh this Juliers looks.[Half-apart.] Keep Juliers, and as good you kept Cologne:Better try Aix, though!—

Berthold.A thriving little burgh this Juliers looks.

[Half-apart.] Keep Juliers, and as good you kept Cologne:

Better try Aix, though!—

Melchior.Please 't your Highness speak?

Berth.[As before.]Aix, Cologne, Frankfort,—Milan;—Rome!—

Mel.The Grave.More weary seems your Highness, I remark,Than sundry conquerors whose path I've watchedThrough fire and blood to any prize they gain.I could well wish you, for your proper sake,Had met some shade of opposition here—Found a blunt seneschal refuse unlock,Or a scared usher lead your steps astray.You must not look for next achievement's palmSo easily: this will hurt your conquering.

Mel.The Grave.

More weary seems your Highness, I remark,

Than sundry conquerors whose path I've watched

Through fire and blood to any prize they gain.

I could well wish you, for your proper sake,

Had met some shade of opposition here

—Found a blunt seneschal refuse unlock,

Or a scared usher lead your steps astray.

You must not look for next achievement's palm

So easily: this will hurt your conquering.

Berth.My next? Ay, as you say, my next and next!Well, I am tired, that's truth, and moody too,This quiet entrance-morning: listen why!Our little burgh, now, Juliers—'t is indeedOne link, however insignificant,Of the great chain by which I reach my hope,—A link I must secure; but otherwise,You 'd wonder I esteem it worth my grasp.Just see what life is, with its shifts and turns!It happens now—this very nook—to beA place that once ... not a long while since, neither—When I lived an ambiguous hanger-onOf foreign courts, and bore my claims about,Discarded by one kinsman, and the otherA poor priest merely,—then, I say, this placeShone my ambition's object; to be Duke—Seemed then, what to be Emperor seems now.My rights were far from judged as plain and sureIn those days as of late, I promise you:And 't was my day-dream, Lady Colombe hereMight e'en compound the matter, pity me,Be struck, say, with my chivalry and grace(I was a boy!)—bestow her hand at length,And make me Duke, in her right if not mine.Here am I, Duke confessed, at Juliers now.Hearken: if ever I be Emperor,Remind me what I felt and said to-day!

Berth.My next? Ay, as you say, my next and next!

Well, I am tired, that's truth, and moody too,

This quiet entrance-morning: listen why!

Our little burgh, now, Juliers—'t is indeed

One link, however insignificant,

Of the great chain by which I reach my hope,

—A link I must secure; but otherwise,

You 'd wonder I esteem it worth my grasp.

Just see what life is, with its shifts and turns!

It happens now—this very nook—to be

A place that once ... not a long while since, neither—

When I lived an ambiguous hanger-on

Of foreign courts, and bore my claims about,

Discarded by one kinsman, and the other

A poor priest merely,—then, I say, this place

Shone my ambition's object; to be Duke—

Seemed then, what to be Emperor seems now.

My rights were far from judged as plain and sure

In those days as of late, I promise you:

And 't was my day-dream, Lady Colombe here

Might e'en compound the matter, pity me,

Be struck, say, with my chivalry and grace

(I was a boy!)—bestow her hand at length,

And make me Duke, in her right if not mine.

Here am I, Duke confessed, at Juliers now.

Hearken: if ever I be Emperor,

Remind me what I felt and said to-day!

Mel.All this consoles a bookish man like me.—And so will weariness cling to you. Wrong,Wrong! Had you sought the lady's court yourself,—Faced the redoubtables composing it,Flattered this, threatened that man, bribed the other,—Pleaded by writ and word and deed, your cause,—Conquered a footing inch by painful inch,—And, after long years' struggle, pounced at lastOn her for prize,—the right life had been lived,And justice done to divers facultiesShut in that brow. Yourself were visibleAs you stood victor, then; whom now—(your pardon!)I am forced narrowly to search and see,So are you hid by helps—this Pope, your uncle—Your cousin, the other King! You are a mind,—They, body: too much of mere legs-and-armsObstructs the mind so! Match these with their like:Match mind with mind!

Mel.All this consoles a bookish man like me.

—And so will weariness cling to you. Wrong,

Wrong! Had you sought the lady's court yourself,—

Faced the redoubtables composing it,

Flattered this, threatened that man, bribed the other,—

Pleaded by writ and word and deed, your cause,—

Conquered a footing inch by painful inch,—

And, after long years' struggle, pounced at last

On her for prize,—the right life had been lived,

And justice done to divers faculties

Shut in that brow. Yourself were visible

As you stood victor, then; whom now—(your pardon!)

I am forced narrowly to search and see,

So are you hid by helps—this Pope, your uncle—

Your cousin, the other King! You are a mind,—

They, body: too much of mere legs-and-arms

Obstructs the mind so! Match these with their like:

Match mind with mind!

Berth.And where's your mind to match?They show me legs-and-arms to cope withal!I'd subjugate this city—where's its mind?

Berth.And where's your mind to match?

They show me legs-and-arms to cope withal!

I'd subjugate this city—where's its mind?

(TheCourtiersenter slowly.)

Mel.Got out of sight when you came troops and all!And in its stead, here greets you flesh-and-blood:A smug economy of both, this first![AsClugnetbows obsequiously.Well done, gout, all considered!—I may go?

Mel.Got out of sight when you came troops and all!

And in its stead, here greets you flesh-and-blood:

A smug economy of both, this first![AsClugnetbows obsequiously.

Well done, gout, all considered!—I may go?

Berth.Help me receive them!

Mel.Oh, they just will sayWhat yesterday at Aix their fellows said,—At Treves, the day before! Sir Prince, my friend,Why do you let your life slip thus?—Meantime,I have my little Juliers to achieve—The understanding this tough Platonist,Your holy uncle disinterred, Amelius:Lend me a company of horse and foot,To help me through his tractate—gain my Duchy!

Mel.Oh, they just will say

What yesterday at Aix their fellows said,—

At Treves, the day before! Sir Prince, my friend,

Why do you let your life slip thus?—Meantime,

I have my little Juliers to achieve—

The understanding this tough Platonist,

Your holy uncle disinterred, Amelius:

Lend me a company of horse and foot,

To help me through his tractate—gain my Duchy!

Berth.And Empire, after that is gained, will be—?

Mel.To help me through your uncle's comment, Prince![Goes.

Berth.Ah? Well: he o'er-refines—the scholar's fault!How do I let my life slip? Say, this life,I lead now, differs from the common lifeOf other men in mere degree, not kind,Of joys and griefs,—still there is such degreeMere largeness in a life is something, sure,—Enough to care about and struggle for,In this world: for this world, the size of things;The sort of things, for that to come, no doubt.A great is better than a little aim:And when I wooed Priscilla's rosy mouthAnd failed so, under that gray convent-wall,Was I more happy than I should be now[By this time, theCourtiersare ranged before him.If failing of my Empire? Not a whit.—Here comes the mind, it once had tasked me soreTo baffle, but for my advantages!All's best as 'tis: these scholars talk and talk.[Seats himself.

Berth.Ah? Well: he o'er-refines—the scholar's fault!

How do I let my life slip? Say, this life,

I lead now, differs from the common life

Of other men in mere degree, not kind,

Of joys and griefs,—still there is such degree

Mere largeness in a life is something, sure,—

Enough to care about and struggle for,

In this world: for this world, the size of things;

The sort of things, for that to come, no doubt.

A great is better than a little aim:

And when I wooed Priscilla's rosy mouth

And failed so, under that gray convent-wall,

Was I more happy than I should be now

[By this time, theCourtiersare ranged before him.

If failing of my Empire? Not a whit.

—Here comes the mind, it once had tasked me sore

To baffle, but for my advantages!

All's best as 'tis: these scholars talk and talk.[Seats himself.

The Courtiers.Welcome our Prince to Juliers!—to his heritage!Our dutifullest service proffer we!

The Courtiers.Welcome our Prince to Juliers!—to his heritage!

Our dutifullest service proffer we!

Clug.I, please your Highness, having exercisedThe function of Grand Chamberlain at court,With much acceptance, as men testify ...

Clug.I, please your Highness, having exercised

The function of Grand Chamberlain at court,

With much acceptance, as men testify ...

Berth.I cannot greatly thank you, gentlemen!The Pope declares my claim to the Duchy foundedOn strictest justice—you concede it, therefore,I do not wonder: and the kings my friendsProtest they mean to see such claim enforced,—You easily may offer to assist.But there's a slight discretionary powerTo serve me in the matter, you've had long,Though late you use it. This is well to say—But could you not have said it months ago?I'm not denied my own Duke's truncheon, true—'T is flung me—I stoop down, and from the groundPick it, with all you placid standers-by:And now I have it, gems and mire at once,Grace go with it to my soiled hands, you say!

Berth.I cannot greatly thank you, gentlemen!

The Pope declares my claim to the Duchy founded

On strictest justice—you concede it, therefore,

I do not wonder: and the kings my friends

Protest they mean to see such claim enforced,—

You easily may offer to assist.

But there's a slight discretionary power

To serve me in the matter, you've had long,

Though late you use it. This is well to say—

But could you not have said it months ago?

I'm not denied my own Duke's truncheon, true—

'T is flung me—I stoop down, and from the ground

Pick it, with all you placid standers-by:

And now I have it, gems and mire at once,

Grace go with it to my soiled hands, you say!

Gui.(By Paul, the advocate our doughty friendCuts the best figure!)

Gui.(By Paul, the advocate our doughty friend

Cuts the best figure!)

Gau.If our ignoranceMay have offended, sure our loyalty ...

Gau.If our ignorance

May have offended, sure our loyalty ...

Berth.Loyalty? Yours? Oh—of yourselves you speak!I mean the Duchess all this time, I hope!And since I have been forced repeat my claimsAs if they never had been urged before,As I began, so must I end, it seems.The formal answer to the grave demand!What says the lady?

Berth.Loyalty? Yours? Oh—of yourselves you speak!

I mean the Duchess all this time, I hope!

And since I have been forced repeat my claims

As if they never had been urged before,

As I began, so must I end, it seems.

The formal answer to the grave demand!

What says the lady?

Courtiers.[One to another.]1st Court.Marshal!2d Court.Orator!

Gui.A variation of our mistress' way!Wipe off his boots' dust, Clugnet!—that, he waits!

Gui.A variation of our mistress' way!

Wipe off his boots' dust, Clugnet!—that, he waits!

1st Court.Your place!

2d Court.Just now it was your own!

Gui.The devil's!

Berth.[ToGuibert.]Come forward, friend—you with the paper, there!Is Juliers the first city I've obtained?By this time, I may boast proficiencyIn each decorum of the circumstance.Give it me as she gave it?—the petition,Demand, you style it! What 's required, in brief?What title's reservation, appanage'sAllowance? I heard all at Treves, last week.

Berth.[ToGuibert.]Come forward, friend—you with the paper, there!

Is Juliers the first city I've obtained?

By this time, I may boast proficiency

In each decorum of the circumstance.

Give it me as she gave it?—the petition,

Demand, you style it! What 's required, in brief?

What title's reservation, appanage's

Allowance? I heard all at Treves, last week.

Gau.[ToGuibert.]"Give it him as she gave it!"

Gui.And why not?[ToBerthold.]The lady crushed your summons thus together,And bade me, with the very greatest scornSo fair a frame could hold, inform you ...

Gui.And why not?

[ToBerthold.]The lady crushed your summons thus together,

And bade me, with the very greatest scorn

So fair a frame could hold, inform you ...

Courtiers.Stop—Idiot!

Courtiers.Stop—

Idiot!

Gui.—Inform you she denied your claim,Defied yourself! (I tread upon his heel,The blustering advocate!)

Gui.—Inform you she denied your claim,

Defied yourself! (I tread upon his heel,

The blustering advocate!)

Berth.By heaven and earth!Dare you jest, sir?

Berth.By heaven and earth!

Dare you jest, sir?

Gui.Did they at Treves, last week?

Berth.[Starting up.]Why then, I look much bolder than I knew,And you prove better actors than I thought:Since, as I live, I took you as you enteredFor just so many dearest friends of mine,Fled from the sinking to the rising power—The sneaking'st crew, in short, I e'er despised!Whereas, I am alone here for the moment,With every soldier left behind at Aix!Silence? That means the worst? I thought as much!What follows next?

Berth.[Starting up.]Why then, I look much bolder than I knew,

And you prove better actors than I thought:

Since, as I live, I took you as you entered

For just so many dearest friends of mine,

Fled from the sinking to the rising power

—The sneaking'st crew, in short, I e'er despised!

Whereas, I am alone here for the moment,

With every soldier left behind at Aix!

Silence? That means the worst? I thought as much!

What follows next?

Courtiers.Gracious Prince—he raves!

Gui.He asked the truth and why not get the truth?

Berth.Am I a prisoner? Speak, will somebody?—But why stand paltering with imbeciles?Let me see her, or ...

Berth.Am I a prisoner? Speak, will somebody?

—But why stand paltering with imbeciles?

Let me see her, or ...

Gui.Her, without her leave,Shall no one see: she 's Duchess yet!

Gui.Her, without her leave,

Shall no one see: she 's Duchess yet!

Courtiers.[Footsteps without, as they are disputing.]Good chance!She 's here—the Lady Colombe's self!

Courtiers.[Footsteps without, as they are disputing.]Good chance!

She 's here—the Lady Colombe's self!

Berth.'T is well![Aside.] Array a handful thus against my world?Not ill done, truly! Were not this a mindTo match one's mind with? Colombe! Let us wait!I failed so, under that gray convent wall!She comes.

Berth.'T is well!

[Aside.] Array a handful thus against my world?

Not ill done, truly! Were not this a mind

To match one's mind with? Colombe! Let us wait!

I failed so, under that gray convent wall!

She comes.

Gui.The Duchess! Strangers, range yourselves!

[As theDuchessenters in conversation withValence,Bertholdand theCourtiersfall back a little.

Duch.Presagefully it beats, presagefully,My heart: the right is Berthold's and not mine.

Duch.Presagefully it beats, presagefully,

My heart: the right is Berthold's and not mine.

Val.Grant that he has the right, dare I mistrustYour power to acquiesce so patientlyAs you believe, in such a dream-like changeOf fortune—change abrupt, profound, complete?

Val.Grant that he has the right, dare I mistrust

Your power to acquiesce so patiently

As you believe, in such a dream-like change

Of fortune—change abrupt, profound, complete?

Duch.Ah, the first bitterness is over now!Bitter I may have felt it to confrontThe truth, and ascertain those natures' valueI had so counted on; that was a pang:But I did bear it, and the worst is over.Let the Prince take them!

Duch.Ah, the first bitterness is over now!

Bitter I may have felt it to confront

The truth, and ascertain those natures' value

I had so counted on; that was a pang:

But I did bear it, and the worst is over.

Let the Prince take them!

Val.And take Juliers too?—Your people without crosses, wands and chains—Only with hearts?

Val.And take Juliers too?

—Your people without crosses, wands and chains—

Only with hearts?

Duch.There I feel guilty, sir!I cannot give up what I never had:For I ruled these, not them—these stood between.Shall I confess, sir? I have heard by stealthOf Berthold from the first; more news and more:Closer and closer swam the thunder cloud,But I was safely housed with these, I knew.At times when to the casement I would turn,At a bird's passage or a flower-trail's play,I caught the storm's red glimpses on its edge—Yet I was sure some one of all these friendsWould interpose: I followed the bird's flightOr plucked the flower—some one would interpose!

Duch.There I feel guilty, sir!

I cannot give up what I never had:

For I ruled these, not them—these stood between.

Shall I confess, sir? I have heard by stealth

Of Berthold from the first; more news and more:

Closer and closer swam the thunder cloud,

But I was safely housed with these, I knew.

At times when to the casement I would turn,

At a bird's passage or a flower-trail's play,

I caught the storm's red glimpses on its edge—

Yet I was sure some one of all these friends

Would interpose: I followed the bird's flight

Or plucked the flower—some one would interpose!

Val.Not one thought on the People—and Cleves there!

Duch.Now, sadly conscious my real sway was missed,Its shadow goes without so much regret:Else could I not again thus calmly bid you,Answer Prince Berthold!

Duch.Now, sadly conscious my real sway was missed,

Its shadow goes without so much regret:

Else could I not again thus calmly bid you,

Answer Prince Berthold!

Val.Then you acquiesce?

Duch.Remember over whom it was I ruled!

Gui.[Stepping forward.]Prince Berthold, yonder, craves an audience, lady!

Duch.[ToValence.]I only have to turn, and I shall facePrince Berthold! Oh, my very heart is sick!It is the daughter of a line of DukesThis scornful insolent adventurerWill bid depart from my dead father's halls!I shall not answer him—dispute with him—But, as he bids, depart! Prevent it, sir!Sir—but a mere day's respite! Urge for me—What I shall call to mind I should have urgedWhen time's gone by—'t will all be mine, you urge!A day—an hour—that I myself may layMy rule down! 'T is too sudden—must not be!The world's to hear of it! Once done—forever!How will it read, sir? How be sung about?Prevent it!

Duch.[ToValence.]I only have to turn, and I shall face

Prince Berthold! Oh, my very heart is sick!

It is the daughter of a line of Dukes

This scornful insolent adventurer

Will bid depart from my dead father's halls!

I shall not answer him—dispute with him—

But, as he bids, depart! Prevent it, sir!

Sir—but a mere day's respite! Urge for me

—What I shall call to mind I should have urged

When time's gone by—'t will all be mine, you urge!

A day—an hour—that I myself may lay

My rule down! 'T is too sudden—must not be!

The world's to hear of it! Once done—forever!

How will it read, sir? How be sung about?

Prevent it!

Berth.[Approaching.]Your frank indignation, lady,Cannot escape me. Overbold I seem;But somewhat should be pardoned my surpriseAt this reception,—this defiance, rather.And if, for their and your sake, I rejoiceYour virtues could inspire a trusty fewTo make such gallant stand in your behalf,I cannot but be sorry, for my own,Your friends should force me to retrace my steps:Since I no longer am permitted speakAfter the pleasant peaceful course prescribedNo less by courtesy than relationship—Which I remember, if you once forgot.But never must attack pass unrepelled.Suffer that, through you, I demand of these,Who controverts my claim to Juliers?

Berth.[Approaching.]Your frank indignation, lady,

Cannot escape me. Overbold I seem;

But somewhat should be pardoned my surprise

At this reception,—this defiance, rather.

And if, for their and your sake, I rejoice

Your virtues could inspire a trusty few

To make such gallant stand in your behalf,

I cannot but be sorry, for my own,

Your friends should force me to retrace my steps:

Since I no longer am permitted speak

After the pleasant peaceful course prescribed

No less by courtesy than relationship—

Which I remember, if you once forgot.

But never must attack pass unrepelled.

Suffer that, through you, I demand of these,

Who controverts my claim to Juliers?

Duch.—MeYou say, you do not speak to—

Duch.—Me

You say, you do not speak to—

Berth.Of your subjectsI ask, then: whom do you accredit? WhereStand those should answer?

Berth.Of your subjects

I ask, then: whom do you accredit? Where

Stand those should answer?

Val.[Advancing.]The lady is alone.

Berth.Alone, and thus? So weak and yet so bold?

Val.I said she was alone—

Berth.And weak, I said.

Val.When is man strong until he feels alone?It was some lonely strength at first, be sure,Created organs, such as those you seek,By which to give its varied purpose shape:And, naming the selected ministrants,Took sword, and shield, and sceptre,—each, a man!That strength performed its work and passed its way:You see our lady: there, the old shapes stand!—A Marshal, Chamberlain, and Chancellor—"Be helped their way, into their death put lifeAnd find advantage!"—so you counsel us.But let strength feel alone, seek help itself,—And, as the inland-hatched sea-creature huntsThe sea's breast out,—as, littered 'mid the wavesThe desert-brute makes for the desert's joy,So turns our lady to her true resource,Passing o'er hollow fictions, worn-out types,—And I am first her instinct fastens on.And prompt I say, as clear as heart can speak,The People will not have you; nor shall have!It is not merely I shall go bring ClevesAnd fight you to the last,—though that does much,And men and children,—ay, and women too,Fighting for home, are rather to be fearedThan mercenaries fighting for their pay—But, say you beat us, since such things have been,And, where this Juliers laughed, you set your footUpon a steaming bloody plash—what then?Stand you the more our lord that there you stand?Lord it o'er troops whose force you concentrate,A pillared flame whereto all ardors tend—Lord it 'mid priests whose schemes you amplify,A cloud of smoke 'neath which all shadows brood—But never, in this gentle spot of earth,Can you become our Colombe, our play-queen,For whom, to furnish lilies for her hair,We'd pour our veins forth to enrich the soil!—Our conqueror? Yes!—Our despot? Yes!—Our Duke?Know yourself, know us!

Val.When is man strong until he feels alone?

It was some lonely strength at first, be sure,

Created organs, such as those you seek,

By which to give its varied purpose shape:

And, naming the selected ministrants,

Took sword, and shield, and sceptre,—each, a man!

That strength performed its work and passed its way:

You see our lady: there, the old shapes stand!

—A Marshal, Chamberlain, and Chancellor—

"Be helped their way, into their death put life

And find advantage!"—so you counsel us.

But let strength feel alone, seek help itself,—

And, as the inland-hatched sea-creature hunts

The sea's breast out,—as, littered 'mid the waves

The desert-brute makes for the desert's joy,

So turns our lady to her true resource,

Passing o'er hollow fictions, worn-out types,

—And I am first her instinct fastens on.

And prompt I say, as clear as heart can speak,

The People will not have you; nor shall have!

It is not merely I shall go bring Cleves

And fight you to the last,—though that does much,

And men and children,—ay, and women too,

Fighting for home, are rather to be feared

Than mercenaries fighting for their pay—

But, say you beat us, since such things have been,

And, where this Juliers laughed, you set your foot

Upon a steaming bloody plash—what then?

Stand you the more our lord that there you stand?

Lord it o'er troops whose force you concentrate,

A pillared flame whereto all ardors tend—

Lord it 'mid priests whose schemes you amplify,

A cloud of smoke 'neath which all shadows brood—

But never, in this gentle spot of earth,

Can you become our Colombe, our play-queen,

For whom, to furnish lilies for her hair,

We'd pour our veins forth to enrich the soil!

—Our conqueror? Yes!—Our despot? Yes!—Our Duke?

Know yourself, know us!

Berth.[Who has been in thought.]Know your lady, also![Very deferentially.]—To whom I needs must exculpate myselfFor having made a rash demand, at least.Wherefore to you, sir, who appear to beHer chief adviser, I submit my claims,[Giving papers.But, this step taken, take no further step,Until the Duchess shall pronounce their worth.Here be our meeting-place; at night, its time:Till when I humbly take the lady's leave!

Berth.[Who has been in thought.]Know your lady, also!

[Very deferentially.]—To whom I needs must exculpate myself

For having made a rash demand, at least.

Wherefore to you, sir, who appear to be

Her chief adviser, I submit my claims,[Giving papers.

But, this step taken, take no further step,

Until the Duchess shall pronounce their worth.

Here be our meeting-place; at night, its time:

Till when I humbly take the lady's leave!

[He withdraws. As theDuchessturns toValence,theCourtiersinterchange glances and come forward a little.

1st Court.So, this was their device!

2d Court.No bad device!

3d Court.You'd say they love each other, Guibert's friendFrom Cleves, and she, the Duchess!

3d Court.You'd say they love each other, Guibert's friend

From Cleves, and she, the Duchess!

4th Court.—And moreover,That all Prince Berthold comes for, is to helpTheir loves!

4th Court.—And moreover,

That all Prince Berthold comes for, is to help

Their loves!

5th Court.Pray, Guibert; what is next to do?

Gui.[Advancing.]I laid my office at the Duchess' foot—

Others.And I—and I—and I!

Duch.I took them, sirs.

Gui.[Apart toValence.]And now, sir, I am simple knight again—Guibert, of the great ancient house, as yetThat never bore affront; whate'er your birth,—As things stand now, I recognize yourself(If you'll accept experience of some date)As like to be the leading man o' the time,Therefore as much above me now, as ISeemed above you this morning. Then, I offeredTo fight you: will you be as generousAnd now fight me?

Gui.[Apart toValence.]And now, sir, I am simple knight again—

Guibert, of the great ancient house, as yet

That never bore affront; whate'er your birth,—

As things stand now, I recognize yourself

(If you'll accept experience of some date)

As like to be the leading man o' the time,

Therefore as much above me now, as I

Seemed above you this morning. Then, I offered

To fight you: will you be as generous

And now fight me?

Val.Ask when my life is mine!

Gui.('Tis hers now!)

Clug.[Apart toValence,asGuibertturns from him.]You, sir, have insulted meGrossly,—will grant me, too, the selfsame favorYou 've granted him, just now, I make no question?

Clug.[Apart toValence,asGuibertturns from him.]You, sir, have insulted me

Grossly,—will grant me, too, the selfsame favor

You 've granted him, just now, I make no question?

Val.I promise you, as him, sir.

Clug.Do you so?Handsomely said! I hold you to it, sir.You 'll get me reinstated in my officeAs you will Guibert!

Clug.Do you so?

Handsomely said! I hold you to it, sir.

You 'll get me reinstated in my office

As you will Guibert!

Duch.I would be alone!

[They begin to retire slowly: asValenceis about to follow—

Alone, sir—only with my heart: you stay!

Gau.You hear that? Ah, light breaks upon me! Cleves—It was at Cleves some man harangued us all—With great effect,—so those who listened said,My thoughts being busy elsewhere: was this he?Guibert,—your strange, disinterested man!Your uncorrupted, if uncourtly friend!The modest worth you mean to patronize!He cares about no Duchesses, not he!His sole concern is with the wrongs of Cleves!What, Guibert? What, it breaks on you at last?

Gau.You hear that? Ah, light breaks upon me! Cleves—

It was at Cleves some man harangued us all—

With great effect,—so those who listened said,

My thoughts being busy elsewhere: was this he?

Guibert,—your strange, disinterested man!

Your uncorrupted, if uncourtly friend!

The modest worth you mean to patronize!

He cares about no Duchesses, not he!

His sole concern is with the wrongs of Cleves!

What, Guibert? What, it breaks on you at last?

Gui.Would this hall's floor were a mine's roof! I'd backAnd in her very face ...

Gui.Would this hall's floor were a mine's roof! I'd back

And in her very face ...

Gau.Apply the matchThat fired the train,—and where would you be, pray?

Gau.Apply the match

That fired the train,—and where would you be, pray?

Gui.With him!

Gau.Stand, rather, safe outside with me!The mine 's charged: shall I furnish you the matchAnd place you properly? To the antechamber!

Gau.Stand, rather, safe outside with me!

The mine 's charged: shall I furnish you the match

And place you properly? To the antechamber!

Gui.Can you?

Gau.Try me! Your friend 's in fortune!

Gui.Quick—To the antechamber! He is pale with bliss!

Gui.Quick—

To the antechamber! He is pale with bliss!

Gau.No wonder! Mark her eyes!

Gui.To the antechamber![TheCourtiersretire.

Duch.Sir, could you know all you have done for meYou were content! You spoke, and I am saved.

Duch.Sir, could you know all you have done for me

You were content! You spoke, and I am saved.

Val.Be not too sanguine, lady! Ere you dream,That transient flush of generosityFades off, perchance! The man, beside, is gone,—Him we might bend; but see, the papers here—Inalterably his requirement stays,And cold hard words have we to deal with now.In that large eye there seemed a latent pride,To self-denial not incompetent,But very like to hold itself dispensedFrom such a grace: however, let us hope!He is a noble spirit in noble form.I wish he less had bent that brow to smileAs with the fancy how he could subjectHimself upon occasion to—himself!From rudeness, violence, you rest secure;But do not think your Duchy rescued yet!

Val.Be not too sanguine, lady! Ere you dream,

That transient flush of generosity

Fades off, perchance! The man, beside, is gone,—

Him we might bend; but see, the papers here—

Inalterably his requirement stays,

And cold hard words have we to deal with now.

In that large eye there seemed a latent pride,

To self-denial not incompetent,

But very like to hold itself dispensed

From such a grace: however, let us hope!

He is a noble spirit in noble form.

I wish he less had bent that brow to smile

As with the fancy how he could subject

Himself upon occasion to—himself!

From rudeness, violence, you rest secure;

But do not think your Duchy rescued yet!

Duch.You, who have opened a new world to me,Will never take the faded language upOf that I leave? My Duchy—keeping it,Or losing it—is that my sole world now?

Duch.You, who have opened a new world to me,

Will never take the faded language up

Of that I leave? My Duchy—keeping it,

Or losing it—is that my sole world now?

Val.Ill have I spoken if you thence despiseJuliers; although the lowest, on true grounds,Be worth more than the highest rule, on false:Aspire to rule, on the true grounds!

Val.Ill have I spoken if you thence despise

Juliers; although the lowest, on true grounds,

Be worth more than the highest rule, on false:

Aspire to rule, on the true grounds!

Duch.Nay, hear—False, I will never—rash, I would not be!This is indeed my birthday—soul and body,Its hours have done on me the work of years.You hold the requisition: ponder it!If I have right, my duty's plain: if he—Say so, nor ever change a tone of voice!At night you meet the Prince; meet me at eve!Till when, farewell! This discomposes you?Believe in your own nature, and its forceOf renovating mine! I take my standOnly as under me the earth is firm:So, prove the first step stable, all will prove.That first, I choose—[Laying her hand on his]—the next to take, choose you![She withdraws.

Duch.Nay, hear—

False, I will never—rash, I would not be!

This is indeed my birthday—soul and body,

Its hours have done on me the work of years.

You hold the requisition: ponder it!

If I have right, my duty's plain: if he—

Say so, nor ever change a tone of voice!

At night you meet the Prince; meet me at eve!

Till when, farewell! This discomposes you?

Believe in your own nature, and its force

Of renovating mine! I take my stand

Only as under me the earth is firm:

So, prove the first step stable, all will prove.

That first, I choose—[Laying her hand on his]—the next to take, choose you!

[She withdraws.

Val.[After a pause.]What drew down this on me?—on me, dead once,She thus bids live,—since all I hithertoThought dead in me, youth's ardors and emprise,Burst into life before her, as she bidsWho needs them. Whither will this reach, where end?Her hand's print burns on mine ... Yet she 's above—So very far above me! All 's too plain:I served her when the others sank away,And she rewards me as such souls reward—The changed voice, the suffusion of the cheek,The eye's acceptance, the expressive hand,—Reward, that 's little, in her generous thought,Though all to me ...I cannot so disclaimHeaven's gift, nor call it other than it is!She loves me![Looking at thePrince'spapers.]—Which love, these, perchance, forbid.Can I decide against myself—pronounceShe is the Duchess and no mate for me?—Cleves, help me! Teach me,—every haggard face,—To sorrow and endure! I will do rightWhatever be the issue. Help me, Cleves!

Val.[After a pause.]What drew down this on me?—on me, dead once,

She thus bids live,—since all I hitherto

Thought dead in me, youth's ardors and emprise,

Burst into life before her, as she bids

Who needs them. Whither will this reach, where end?

Her hand's print burns on mine ... Yet she 's above—

So very far above me! All 's too plain:

I served her when the others sank away,

And she rewards me as such souls reward—

The changed voice, the suffusion of the cheek,

The eye's acceptance, the expressive hand,

—Reward, that 's little, in her generous thought,

Though all to me ...

I cannot so disclaim

Heaven's gift, nor call it other than it is!

She loves me!

[Looking at thePrince'spapers.]—Which love, these, perchance, forbid.

Can I decide against myself—pronounce

She is the Duchess and no mate for me?

—Cleves, help me! Teach me,—every haggard face,—

To sorrow and endure! I will do right

Whatever be the issue. Help me, Cleves!

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