Scene II.Mildred'sChamber.Mildredalone.

Scene I.The end of the Yew-tree Avenue underMildred'swindow. A light seen through a central red pane.EnterTreshamthrough the trees.Tresh.Again here! But I cannot lose myself.The heath—the orchard—I have traversed gladesAnd dells and bosky paths which used to leadInto green wild-wood depths, bewilderingMy boy's adventurous step. And now they tendHither or soon or late; the blackest shadeBreaks up, the thronged trunks of the trees ope wide,And the dim turret I have fled from, frontsAgain my step; the very river putIts arm about me and conducted meTo this detested spot. Why then, I'll shunTheir will no longer: do your will with me!Oh, bitter! To have reared a towering schemeOf happiness, and to behold it razed,Were nothing; all men hope, and see their hopesFrustrate, and grieve awhile, and hope anew.But I ... to hope that from a line like oursNo horrid prodigy like this would spring,Were just as though I hoped that from these oldConfederates against the sovereign day,Children of older and yet older sires,Whose living coral berries dropped, as nowOn me, on many a baron's surcoat once,On many a beauty's wimple—would proceedNo poison-tree, to thrust, from hell its root,Hither and thither its strange snaky arms.Why came I here? What must I do?[A bell strikes.]A bell?Midnight! and 'tis at midnight ... Ah, I catch—Woods, river, plains, I catch your meaning now.And I obey you! Hist! This tree will serve.[He retires behind one of the trees. After a pause, enterMertouncloaked as before.Mer.Not time! Beat out thy last voluptuous beatOf hope and fear, my heart! I thought the clockI' the chapel struck as I was pushing throughThe ferns. And so I shall no more see riseMy love-star! Oh, no matter for the past!So much the more delicious task to watchMildred revive: to pluck out, thorn by thorn,All traces of the rough forbidden pathMy rash love lured her to! Each day must seeSome fear of hers effaced, some hope renewed:Then there will be surprises, unforeseenDelights in store. I'll not regret the past.[The light is placed above in the purple pane.And see, my signal rises, Mildred's star!I never saw it lovelier than nowIt rises for the last time. If it sets,'Tis that the reassuring sun may dawn.[As he prepares to ascend the lust tree of the avenue,Treshamarrests his arm.Unhand me—peasant, by your grasp! Here's gold.'Twas a mad freak of mine. I said I'd pluckA branch from the white-blossomed shrub beneathThe casement there. Take this, and hold your peace.Tresh.Into the moonlight yonder, come with me!Out of the shadow.Mer.I am armed, fool!Tresh.Yes,Or no? You'll come into the light, or no?My hand is on your throat—refuse!—Mer.That voice!Where have I heard ... no—that was mild and slow.I'll come with you.[They advance.Tresh.You're armed: that's well. DeclareYour name: who are you?Mer.(Tresham!—she is lost!)Tresh.Oh, silent? Do you know, you bear yourselfExactly as, in curious dreams I've hadHow felons, this wild earth is full of, lookWhen they're detected, still your kind has looked!The bravo holds an assured countenance,The thief is voluble and plausible,But silently the slave of lust has crouchedWhen I have fancied it before a man.Your name!Mer.I do conjure Lord Tresham—ay,Kissing his foot, if so I might prevail—That he for his own sake forbear to askMy name! As heaven's above, his future wealOr woe depends upon my silence! Vain!I read your white inexorable face.Know me, Lord Tresham![He throws off his disguises.Tresh.Mertoun![After a pause.]Draw now!Mer.Hear meBut speak first!Tresh.Not one least word on your life!Be sure that I will strangle in your throatThe least word that informs me how you liveAnd yet seem what you seem! No doubt 't was youTaught Mildred still to keep that face and sin.We should join hands in frantic sympathyIf you once taught me the unteachable,Explained how you can live so, and so lie.With God's help I retain, despite my sense,The old belief—a life like yours is stillImpossible. Now draw!Mer.Not for my sake,Do I entreat a hearing—for your sake,And most, for her sake!Tresh.Ha ha, what should IKnow of your ways? A miscreant like yourself,How must one rouse his ire? A blow?—that's prideNo doubt, to him! One spurns him, does one not?Or sets the foot upon his mouth, or spitsInto his face! Come! Which, or all of these?Mer.'Twixt him and me and Mildred. Heaven be judge!Can I avoid this? Have your will, my lord![He draws and, after a few passes, falls.Tresh.You are not hurt?Mer.You'll hear me now!Tresh.But rise!Mer.Ah, Tresham, say I not "you'll hear me now!"And what procures a man the right to speakIn his defence before his fellow man,But—I suppose—the thought that presentlyHe may have leave to speak before his GodHis whole defence?Tresh.Not hurt? It cannot be!You made no effort to resist me. WhereDid my sword reach you? Why not have returnedMy thrusts? Hurt where?Mer.My lord—Tresh.How young he is!Mer.Lord Tresham, I am very young, and yetI have entangled other lives with mine.Do let me speak, and do believe my speech!That when I die before you presently,—Tresh.Can you stay here till I return with help?Mer.Oh, stay by me! When I was less than boyI did you grievous wrong and knew it not—Upon my honor, knew it not! Once known,I could not find what seemed a better wayTo right you than I took: my life—you feelHow less than nothing were the giving youThe life you've taken! But I thought my wayThe better—only for your sake and hers:And as you have decided otherwise,Would I had an infinity of livesTo offer you! Now say—instruct me—think!Can you, from the brief minutes I have left,Eke out my reparation? Oh think—think!For I must wring a partial—dare I say,Forgiveness from you, ere I die?Tresh.I doForgive you.Mer.Wait and ponder that great word!Because, if you forgive me, I shall hopeTo speak to you of—Mildred!Tresh.Mertoun, hasteAnd anger have undone us. 'Tis not youShould tell me for a novelty you're young,Thoughtless, unable to recall the past.Be but your pardon ample as my own!Mer.Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a dropOf blood or two, should bring all this about!Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my loveOf you—(what passion like a boy's for oneLike you?)—that ruined me! I dreamed of you—You, all accomplished, courted everywhere,The scholar and the gentleman. I burnedTo knit myself to you: but I was young,And your surpassing reputation kept meSo far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love?With less of love, my glorious yesterdayOf praise and gentlest words and kindest looks,Had taken place perchance six months ago.Even now, how happy we had been! And yetI know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham!Let me look up into your face; I feel'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed.Where? where?[As he endeavors to raise himself his eye catches the lamp.Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do?Tresham, her life is bound up in the lifeThat's bleeding fast away! I'll live—must live,There, if you'll only turn me I shall liveAnd save her! Tresham—oh, had you but heard!Had you but heard! What right was yours to setThe thoughtless foot upon her life and mine,And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought,All had gone otherwise"? We've sinned and die:Never you sin, Lord Tresham! for you'll die,And God will judge you.Tresh.Yes, be satisfied!That process is begun.Mer.And she sits thereWaiting for me! Now, say you this to her—You, not another—say, I saw him dieAs he breathed this, "I love her"—you don't knowWhat those three small words mean! Say, loving herLowers me down the bloody slope to deathWith memories ... I speak to her, not you,Who had no pity, will have no remorse,Perchance intend her ... Die along with me,Dear Mildred! 'tis so easy, and you'll 'scapeSo much unkindness! Can I lie at rest,With rude speech spoken to you, ruder deedsDone to you?—heartless men shall have my heart,And I tied down with grave-clothes and the worm,Aware, perhaps, of every blow—oh God!—Upon those lips—yet of no power to tearThe felon stripe by stripe! Die, Mildred! LeaveTheir honorable world to them! For GodWe're good enough, though the world casts us out.[A whistle is heard.Tresh.Ho, Gerard!(EnterGerard, AustinandGwendolen,with lights.)No one speak! You see what's done.I cannot bear another voice.Mer.There's light—Light all about me, and I move to it.Tresham, did I not tell you—did you notJust promise to deliver words of mineTo Mildred?Tresh.I will bear those words to her.Mer.Now?Tresh.Now. Lift you the body, and leave meThe head.[As they have half raisedMertoun,he turns suddenly.Mer.I knew they turned me: turn me not from her!There! stay you! there![Dies.Guen.[After a pause.]Austin, remain you hereWith Thorold until Gerard comes with help:Then lead him to his chamber. I must goTo Mildred.Tresh.Guendolen, I hear each wordYou utter. Did you hear him bid me giveHis message? Did you hear my promise? I,And only I, see Mildred.Guen.She will die.Tresh.Oh no, she will not die! I dare not hopeShe'll die. What ground have you to think she'll die?Why, Austin's with you!Aus.Had we but arrivedBefore you fought!Tresh.There was no fight at all.He let me slaughter him—the boy! I'll trustThe body there to you and Gerard—thus!Now bear him on before me.Aus.Whither bear him?Tresh.Oh, to my chamber! When we meet there next,We shall be friends.[They bear out the body ofMertoun.Will she die, Guendolen?Guen.Where are you taking me?Tresh.He fell just here.Now answer me. Shall you in your whole life—You who have naught to do with Mertoun's fate,Now you have seen his breast upon the turf,Shall you e'er walk this way if you can help?When you and Austin wander arm-in-armThrough our ancestral grounds, will not a shadeBe ever on the meadow and the waste—Another kind of shade than when the nightShuts the woodside with all its whispers up?But will you ever so forget his breastAs carelessly to cross this bloody turfUnder the black yew avenue? That's well!You turn your head: and I then?—Guen.What is doneIs done. My care is for the living. Thorold,Bear up against this burden: more remainsTo set the neck to!Tresh.Dear and ancient treesMy fathers planted, and I loved so well!What have I done that, like some fabled crimeOf yore, lets loose a Fury leading thusHer miserable dance amidst you all?Oh, never more for me shall winds intoneWith all your tops a vast antiphony,Demanding and responding in God's praise!Hers ye are now, not mine! Farewell—farewell!

Scene I.The end of the Yew-tree Avenue underMildred'swindow. A light seen through a central red pane.

EnterTreshamthrough the trees.

Tresh.Again here! But I cannot lose myself.The heath—the orchard—I have traversed gladesAnd dells and bosky paths which used to leadInto green wild-wood depths, bewilderingMy boy's adventurous step. And now they tendHither or soon or late; the blackest shadeBreaks up, the thronged trunks of the trees ope wide,And the dim turret I have fled from, frontsAgain my step; the very river putIts arm about me and conducted meTo this detested spot. Why then, I'll shunTheir will no longer: do your will with me!Oh, bitter! To have reared a towering schemeOf happiness, and to behold it razed,Were nothing; all men hope, and see their hopesFrustrate, and grieve awhile, and hope anew.But I ... to hope that from a line like oursNo horrid prodigy like this would spring,Were just as though I hoped that from these oldConfederates against the sovereign day,Children of older and yet older sires,Whose living coral berries dropped, as nowOn me, on many a baron's surcoat once,On many a beauty's wimple—would proceedNo poison-tree, to thrust, from hell its root,Hither and thither its strange snaky arms.Why came I here? What must I do?[A bell strikes.]A bell?Midnight! and 'tis at midnight ... Ah, I catch—Woods, river, plains, I catch your meaning now.And I obey you! Hist! This tree will serve.

Tresh.Again here! But I cannot lose myself.

The heath—the orchard—I have traversed glades

And dells and bosky paths which used to lead

Into green wild-wood depths, bewildering

My boy's adventurous step. And now they tend

Hither or soon or late; the blackest shade

Breaks up, the thronged trunks of the trees ope wide,

And the dim turret I have fled from, fronts

Again my step; the very river put

Its arm about me and conducted me

To this detested spot. Why then, I'll shun

Their will no longer: do your will with me!

Oh, bitter! To have reared a towering scheme

Of happiness, and to behold it razed,

Were nothing; all men hope, and see their hopes

Frustrate, and grieve awhile, and hope anew.

But I ... to hope that from a line like ours

No horrid prodigy like this would spring,

Were just as though I hoped that from these old

Confederates against the sovereign day,

Children of older and yet older sires,

Whose living coral berries dropped, as now

On me, on many a baron's surcoat once,

On many a beauty's wimple—would proceed

No poison-tree, to thrust, from hell its root,

Hither and thither its strange snaky arms.

Why came I here? What must I do?[A bell strikes.]A bell?

Midnight! and 'tis at midnight ... Ah, I catch

—Woods, river, plains, I catch your meaning now.

And I obey you! Hist! This tree will serve.

[He retires behind one of the trees. After a pause, enterMertouncloaked as before.

Mer.Not time! Beat out thy last voluptuous beatOf hope and fear, my heart! I thought the clockI' the chapel struck as I was pushing throughThe ferns. And so I shall no more see riseMy love-star! Oh, no matter for the past!So much the more delicious task to watchMildred revive: to pluck out, thorn by thorn,All traces of the rough forbidden pathMy rash love lured her to! Each day must seeSome fear of hers effaced, some hope renewed:Then there will be surprises, unforeseenDelights in store. I'll not regret the past.[The light is placed above in the purple pane.And see, my signal rises, Mildred's star!I never saw it lovelier than nowIt rises for the last time. If it sets,'Tis that the reassuring sun may dawn.[As he prepares to ascend the lust tree of the avenue,Treshamarrests his arm.Unhand me—peasant, by your grasp! Here's gold.'Twas a mad freak of mine. I said I'd pluckA branch from the white-blossomed shrub beneathThe casement there. Take this, and hold your peace.

Mer.Not time! Beat out thy last voluptuous beat

Of hope and fear, my heart! I thought the clock

I' the chapel struck as I was pushing through

The ferns. And so I shall no more see rise

My love-star! Oh, no matter for the past!

So much the more delicious task to watch

Mildred revive: to pluck out, thorn by thorn,

All traces of the rough forbidden path

My rash love lured her to! Each day must see

Some fear of hers effaced, some hope renewed:

Then there will be surprises, unforeseen

Delights in store. I'll not regret the past.

[The light is placed above in the purple pane.

And see, my signal rises, Mildred's star!

I never saw it lovelier than now

It rises for the last time. If it sets,

'Tis that the reassuring sun may dawn.

[As he prepares to ascend the lust tree of the avenue,Treshamarrests his arm.

Unhand me—peasant, by your grasp! Here's gold.

'Twas a mad freak of mine. I said I'd pluck

A branch from the white-blossomed shrub beneath

The casement there. Take this, and hold your peace.

Tresh.Into the moonlight yonder, come with me!Out of the shadow.

Tresh.Into the moonlight yonder, come with me!

Out of the shadow.

Mer.I am armed, fool!

Tresh.Yes,Or no? You'll come into the light, or no?My hand is on your throat—refuse!—

Tresh.Yes,

Or no? You'll come into the light, or no?

My hand is on your throat—refuse!—

Mer.That voice!Where have I heard ... no—that was mild and slow.I'll come with you.[They advance.

Mer.That voice!

Where have I heard ... no—that was mild and slow.

I'll come with you.[They advance.

Tresh.You're armed: that's well. DeclareYour name: who are you?

Tresh.You're armed: that's well. Declare

Your name: who are you?

Mer.(Tresham!—she is lost!)

Tresh.Oh, silent? Do you know, you bear yourselfExactly as, in curious dreams I've hadHow felons, this wild earth is full of, lookWhen they're detected, still your kind has looked!The bravo holds an assured countenance,The thief is voluble and plausible,But silently the slave of lust has crouchedWhen I have fancied it before a man.Your name!

Tresh.Oh, silent? Do you know, you bear yourself

Exactly as, in curious dreams I've had

How felons, this wild earth is full of, look

When they're detected, still your kind has looked!

The bravo holds an assured countenance,

The thief is voluble and plausible,

But silently the slave of lust has crouched

When I have fancied it before a man.

Your name!

Mer.I do conjure Lord Tresham—ay,Kissing his foot, if so I might prevail—That he for his own sake forbear to askMy name! As heaven's above, his future wealOr woe depends upon my silence! Vain!I read your white inexorable face.Know me, Lord Tresham![He throws off his disguises.

Mer.I do conjure Lord Tresham—ay,

Kissing his foot, if so I might prevail—

That he for his own sake forbear to ask

My name! As heaven's above, his future weal

Or woe depends upon my silence! Vain!

I read your white inexorable face.

Know me, Lord Tresham!

[He throws off his disguises.

Tresh.Mertoun![After a pause.]Draw now!

Tresh.Mertoun!

[After a pause.]Draw now!

Mer.Hear meBut speak first!

Mer.Hear me

But speak first!

Tresh.Not one least word on your life!Be sure that I will strangle in your throatThe least word that informs me how you liveAnd yet seem what you seem! No doubt 't was youTaught Mildred still to keep that face and sin.We should join hands in frantic sympathyIf you once taught me the unteachable,Explained how you can live so, and so lie.With God's help I retain, despite my sense,The old belief—a life like yours is stillImpossible. Now draw!

Tresh.Not one least word on your life!

Be sure that I will strangle in your throat

The least word that informs me how you live

And yet seem what you seem! No doubt 't was you

Taught Mildred still to keep that face and sin.

We should join hands in frantic sympathy

If you once taught me the unteachable,

Explained how you can live so, and so lie.

With God's help I retain, despite my sense,

The old belief—a life like yours is still

Impossible. Now draw!

Mer.Not for my sake,Do I entreat a hearing—for your sake,And most, for her sake!

Mer.Not for my sake,

Do I entreat a hearing—for your sake,

And most, for her sake!

Tresh.Ha ha, what should IKnow of your ways? A miscreant like yourself,How must one rouse his ire? A blow?—that's prideNo doubt, to him! One spurns him, does one not?Or sets the foot upon his mouth, or spitsInto his face! Come! Which, or all of these?

Tresh.Ha ha, what should I

Know of your ways? A miscreant like yourself,

How must one rouse his ire? A blow?—that's pride

No doubt, to him! One spurns him, does one not?

Or sets the foot upon his mouth, or spits

Into his face! Come! Which, or all of these?

Mer.'Twixt him and me and Mildred. Heaven be judge!Can I avoid this? Have your will, my lord![He draws and, after a few passes, falls.

Mer.'Twixt him and me and Mildred. Heaven be judge!

Can I avoid this? Have your will, my lord!

[He draws and, after a few passes, falls.

Tresh.You are not hurt?

Mer.You'll hear me now!

Tresh.But rise!

Mer.Ah, Tresham, say I not "you'll hear me now!"And what procures a man the right to speakIn his defence before his fellow man,But—I suppose—the thought that presentlyHe may have leave to speak before his GodHis whole defence?

Mer.Ah, Tresham, say I not "you'll hear me now!"

And what procures a man the right to speak

In his defence before his fellow man,

But—I suppose—the thought that presently

He may have leave to speak before his God

His whole defence?

Tresh.Not hurt? It cannot be!You made no effort to resist me. WhereDid my sword reach you? Why not have returnedMy thrusts? Hurt where?

Tresh.Not hurt? It cannot be!

You made no effort to resist me. Where

Did my sword reach you? Why not have returned

My thrusts? Hurt where?

Mer.My lord—

Tresh.How young he is!

Mer.Lord Tresham, I am very young, and yetI have entangled other lives with mine.Do let me speak, and do believe my speech!That when I die before you presently,—

Mer.Lord Tresham, I am very young, and yet

I have entangled other lives with mine.

Do let me speak, and do believe my speech!

That when I die before you presently,—

Tresh.Can you stay here till I return with help?

Mer.Oh, stay by me! When I was less than boyI did you grievous wrong and knew it not—Upon my honor, knew it not! Once known,I could not find what seemed a better wayTo right you than I took: my life—you feelHow less than nothing were the giving youThe life you've taken! But I thought my wayThe better—only for your sake and hers:And as you have decided otherwise,Would I had an infinity of livesTo offer you! Now say—instruct me—think!Can you, from the brief minutes I have left,Eke out my reparation? Oh think—think!For I must wring a partial—dare I say,Forgiveness from you, ere I die?

Mer.Oh, stay by me! When I was less than boy

I did you grievous wrong and knew it not—

Upon my honor, knew it not! Once known,

I could not find what seemed a better way

To right you than I took: my life—you feel

How less than nothing were the giving you

The life you've taken! But I thought my way

The better—only for your sake and hers:

And as you have decided otherwise,

Would I had an infinity of lives

To offer you! Now say—instruct me—think!

Can you, from the brief minutes I have left,

Eke out my reparation? Oh think—think!

For I must wring a partial—dare I say,

Forgiveness from you, ere I die?

Tresh.I doForgive you.

Tresh.I do

Forgive you.

Mer.Wait and ponder that great word!Because, if you forgive me, I shall hopeTo speak to you of—Mildred!

Mer.Wait and ponder that great word!

Because, if you forgive me, I shall hope

To speak to you of—Mildred!

Tresh.Mertoun, hasteAnd anger have undone us. 'Tis not youShould tell me for a novelty you're young,Thoughtless, unable to recall the past.Be but your pardon ample as my own!

Tresh.Mertoun, haste

And anger have undone us. 'Tis not you

Should tell me for a novelty you're young,

Thoughtless, unable to recall the past.

Be but your pardon ample as my own!

Mer.Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a dropOf blood or two, should bring all this about!Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my loveOf you—(what passion like a boy's for oneLike you?)—that ruined me! I dreamed of you—You, all accomplished, courted everywhere,The scholar and the gentleman. I burnedTo knit myself to you: but I was young,And your surpassing reputation kept meSo far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love?With less of love, my glorious yesterdayOf praise and gentlest words and kindest looks,Had taken place perchance six months ago.Even now, how happy we had been! And yetI know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham!Let me look up into your face; I feel'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed.Where? where?[As he endeavors to raise himself his eye catches the lamp.Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do?Tresham, her life is bound up in the lifeThat's bleeding fast away! I'll live—must live,There, if you'll only turn me I shall liveAnd save her! Tresham—oh, had you but heard!Had you but heard! What right was yours to setThe thoughtless foot upon her life and mine,And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought,All had gone otherwise"? We've sinned and die:Never you sin, Lord Tresham! for you'll die,And God will judge you.

Mer.Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a drop

Of blood or two, should bring all this about!

Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my love

Of you—(what passion like a boy's for one

Like you?)—that ruined me! I dreamed of you—

You, all accomplished, courted everywhere,

The scholar and the gentleman. I burned

To knit myself to you: but I was young,

And your surpassing reputation kept me

So far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love?

With less of love, my glorious yesterday

Of praise and gentlest words and kindest looks,

Had taken place perchance six months ago.

Even now, how happy we had been! And yet

I know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham!

Let me look up into your face; I feel

'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed.

Where? where?

[As he endeavors to raise himself his eye catches the lamp.

Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do?

Tresham, her life is bound up in the life

That's bleeding fast away! I'll live—must live,

There, if you'll only turn me I shall live

And save her! Tresham—oh, had you but heard!

Had you but heard! What right was yours to set

The thoughtless foot upon her life and mine,

And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought,

All had gone otherwise"? We've sinned and die:

Never you sin, Lord Tresham! for you'll die,

And God will judge you.

Tresh.Yes, be satisfied!That process is begun.

Tresh.Yes, be satisfied!

That process is begun.

Mer.And she sits thereWaiting for me! Now, say you this to her—You, not another—say, I saw him dieAs he breathed this, "I love her"—you don't knowWhat those three small words mean! Say, loving herLowers me down the bloody slope to deathWith memories ... I speak to her, not you,Who had no pity, will have no remorse,Perchance intend her ... Die along with me,Dear Mildred! 'tis so easy, and you'll 'scapeSo much unkindness! Can I lie at rest,With rude speech spoken to you, ruder deedsDone to you?—heartless men shall have my heart,And I tied down with grave-clothes and the worm,Aware, perhaps, of every blow—oh God!—Upon those lips—yet of no power to tearThe felon stripe by stripe! Die, Mildred! LeaveTheir honorable world to them! For GodWe're good enough, though the world casts us out.[A whistle is heard.

Mer.And she sits there

Waiting for me! Now, say you this to her—

You, not another—say, I saw him die

As he breathed this, "I love her"—you don't know

What those three small words mean! Say, loving her

Lowers me down the bloody slope to death

With memories ... I speak to her, not you,

Who had no pity, will have no remorse,

Perchance intend her ... Die along with me,

Dear Mildred! 'tis so easy, and you'll 'scape

So much unkindness! Can I lie at rest,

With rude speech spoken to you, ruder deeds

Done to you?—heartless men shall have my heart,

And I tied down with grave-clothes and the worm,

Aware, perhaps, of every blow—oh God!—

Upon those lips—yet of no power to tear

The felon stripe by stripe! Die, Mildred! Leave

Their honorable world to them! For God

We're good enough, though the world casts us out.[A whistle is heard.

Tresh.Ho, Gerard!

(EnterGerard, AustinandGwendolen,with lights.)

No one speak! You see what's done.I cannot bear another voice.

No one speak! You see what's done.

I cannot bear another voice.

Mer.There's light—Light all about me, and I move to it.Tresham, did I not tell you—did you notJust promise to deliver words of mineTo Mildred?

Mer.There's light—

Light all about me, and I move to it.

Tresham, did I not tell you—did you not

Just promise to deliver words of mine

To Mildred?

Tresh.I will bear those words to her.

Mer.Now?

Tresh.Now. Lift you the body, and leave meThe head.[As they have half raisedMertoun,he turns suddenly.

Tresh.Now. Lift you the body, and leave me

The head.

[As they have half raisedMertoun,he turns suddenly.

Mer.I knew they turned me: turn me not from her!There! stay you! there![Dies.

Mer.I knew they turned me: turn me not from her!

There! stay you! there![Dies.

Guen.[After a pause.]Austin, remain you hereWith Thorold until Gerard comes with help:Then lead him to his chamber. I must goTo Mildred.

Guen.[After a pause.]Austin, remain you here

With Thorold until Gerard comes with help:

Then lead him to his chamber. I must go

To Mildred.

Tresh.Guendolen, I hear each wordYou utter. Did you hear him bid me giveHis message? Did you hear my promise? I,And only I, see Mildred.

Tresh.Guendolen, I hear each word

You utter. Did you hear him bid me give

His message? Did you hear my promise? I,

And only I, see Mildred.

Guen.She will die.

Tresh.Oh no, she will not die! I dare not hopeShe'll die. What ground have you to think she'll die?Why, Austin's with you!

Tresh.Oh no, she will not die! I dare not hope

She'll die. What ground have you to think she'll die?

Why, Austin's with you!

Aus.Had we but arrivedBefore you fought!

Aus.Had we but arrived

Before you fought!

Tresh.There was no fight at all.He let me slaughter him—the boy! I'll trustThe body there to you and Gerard—thus!Now bear him on before me.

Tresh.There was no fight at all.

He let me slaughter him—the boy! I'll trust

The body there to you and Gerard—thus!

Now bear him on before me.

Aus.Whither bear him?

Tresh.Oh, to my chamber! When we meet there next,We shall be friends.[They bear out the body ofMertoun.Will she die, Guendolen?

Tresh.Oh, to my chamber! When we meet there next,

We shall be friends.

[They bear out the body ofMertoun.

Will she die, Guendolen?

Guen.Where are you taking me?

Tresh.He fell just here.Now answer me. Shall you in your whole life—You who have naught to do with Mertoun's fate,Now you have seen his breast upon the turf,Shall you e'er walk this way if you can help?When you and Austin wander arm-in-armThrough our ancestral grounds, will not a shadeBe ever on the meadow and the waste—Another kind of shade than when the nightShuts the woodside with all its whispers up?But will you ever so forget his breastAs carelessly to cross this bloody turfUnder the black yew avenue? That's well!You turn your head: and I then?—

Tresh.He fell just here.

Now answer me. Shall you in your whole life

—You who have naught to do with Mertoun's fate,

Now you have seen his breast upon the turf,

Shall you e'er walk this way if you can help?

When you and Austin wander arm-in-arm

Through our ancestral grounds, will not a shade

Be ever on the meadow and the waste—

Another kind of shade than when the night

Shuts the woodside with all its whispers up?

But will you ever so forget his breast

As carelessly to cross this bloody turf

Under the black yew avenue? That's well!

You turn your head: and I then?—

Guen.What is doneIs done. My care is for the living. Thorold,Bear up against this burden: more remainsTo set the neck to!

Guen.What is done

Is done. My care is for the living. Thorold,

Bear up against this burden: more remains

To set the neck to!

Tresh.Dear and ancient treesMy fathers planted, and I loved so well!What have I done that, like some fabled crimeOf yore, lets loose a Fury leading thusHer miserable dance amidst you all?Oh, never more for me shall winds intoneWith all your tops a vast antiphony,Demanding and responding in God's praise!Hers ye are now, not mine! Farewell—farewell!

Tresh.Dear and ancient trees

My fathers planted, and I loved so well!

What have I done that, like some fabled crime

Of yore, lets loose a Fury leading thus

Her miserable dance amidst you all?

Oh, never more for me shall winds intone

With all your tops a vast antiphony,

Demanding and responding in God's praise!

Hers ye are now, not mine! Farewell—farewell!

Mil.He comes not! I have heard of those who seemedResourceless in prosperity,—you thoughtSorrow might slay them when she listed; yetDid they so gather up their diffused strengthAt her first menace, that they bade her strike,And stood and laughed her subtlest skill to scorn.Oh, 'tis not so with me! The first woe fell,And the rest fall upon it, not on me:Else should I hear that Henry comes not?—failsJust this first night out of so many nights?Loving is done with. Were he sitting now,As so few hours since, on that seat, we'd loveNo more—contrive no thousand happy waysTo hide love from the loveless, any more.I think I might have urged some little pointIn my defence, to Thorold; he was breathlessFor the least hint of a defence: but no,The first shame over, all that would might fall.No Henry! Yet I merely sit and thinkThe morn's deed o'er and o'er. I must have creptOut of myself. A Mildred that has lostHer lover—oh, I dare not look uponSuch woe! I crouch away from it! 'Tis she,Mildred, will break her heart, not I! The worldForsakes me: only Henry's left me—left?When I have lost him, for he does not come,And I sit stupidly ... Oh Heaven, break upThis worse than anguish, this mad apathy,By any means or any messenger!Tresh.[Without.]Mildred!Mil.Come in! Heaven hears me![EnterTresham.]You? alone?Oh, no more cursing!Tresh.Mildred, I must sit.There—you sit!Mil.Say it, Thorold—do not lookThe curse! deliver all you come to say!What must become of me? Oh, speak that thoughtWhich makes your brow and cheeks so pale!Tresh.My thought?Mil.All of it!Tresh.How we waded—years ago—After those water-lilies, till the plash,I know not how, surprised us; and you daredNeither advance nor turn back: so, we stoodLaughing and crying until Gerard came—Once safe upon the turf, the loudest too,For once more reaching the relinquished prize!How idle thoughts are, some men's, dying men's!Mildred,—Mil.You call me kindlier by my nameThan even yesterday: what is in that?Tresh.It weighs so much upon my mind that IThis morning took an office not my own!I might ... of course, I must be glad or grieved,Content or not, at every little thingThat touches you. I may with a wrung heartEven reprove you, Mildred; I did more:Will you forgive me?Mil.Thorold? do you mock?Or no ... and yet you bid me ... say that word!Tresh.Forgive me, Mildred!—are you silent, Sweet?Mil.[Starting up.]Why does not Henry Mertoun come to-night?Are you, too, silent?[Dashing his mantle aside, and pointing to his scabbard, which is empty.Ah, this speaks for you!You've murdered Henry Mertoun! Now proceed!What is it I must pardon? This and all?Well, I do pardon you—I think I do.Thorold, how very wretched you must be!Tresh.He bade me tell you ...Mil.What I do forbidYour utterance of! So much that you may tellAnd will not—how you murdered him ... but, no!You'll tell me that he loved me, never moreThan bleeding out his life there: must I say"Indeed," to that? Enough! I pardon you.Tresh.You cannot, Mildred! for the harsh words, yes:Of this last deed Another's judge: whose doomI wait in doubt, despondency and fear.Mil.Oh, true! There's naught for me to pardon! True!You loose my soul of all its cares at once.Death makes me sure of him forever! YouTell me his last words? He shall tell me them,And take my answer—not in words, but readingHimself the heart I had to read him late,Which death ...Tresh.Death? You are dying too? Well saidOf Guendolen! I dared not hope you'd die:But she was sure of it.Mil.Tell GuendolenI loved her, and tell Austin ...Tresh.Him you loved:And me?Mil.Ah, Thorold! Was't not rashly doneTo quench that blood, on fire with youth and hopeAnd love of me—whom you loved too, and yetSuffered to sit here waiting his approachWhile you were slaying him? Oh, doubtlesslyYou let him speak his poor confused boy's-speech—Do his poor utmost to disarm your wrathAnd respite me!—you let him try to giveThe story of our love and ignorance,And the brief madness and the long despair—You let him plead all this, because your codeOf honor bids you hear before you strike:But at the end, as he looked up for lifeInto your eyes—you struck him down!Tresh.No! No!Had I but heard him—had I let him speakHalf the truth—less—had I looked long on himI had desisted! Why, as he lay there,The moon on his flushed cheek, I gathered allThe story ere he told it: I saw throughThe troubled surface of his crime and yoursA depth of purity immovable;Had I but glanced, where all seemed turbidestHad gleamed some inlet to the calm beneath;I would not glance: my punishment's at hand.There, Mildred, is the truth! and you—say on—You curse me?Mil.As I dare approach that HeavenWhich has not bade a living thing despair,Which needs no code to keep its grace from stain,But bids the vilest worm that turns on itDesist and be forgiven,—I—forgive not,But bless you, Thorold, from my soul of souls![Falls on his neck.There! Do not think too much upon the past!The cloud that's broke was all the same a cloudWhile it stood up between my friend and you;You hurt him 'neath its shadow: but is thatSo past retrieve? I have his heart, you know;I may dispose of it: I give it you!It loves you as mine loves! Confirm me, Henry![Dies.Tresh.I wish thee joy, Beloved! I am gladIn thy full gladness!Guen.[Without.]Mildred! Tresham![Entering withAustin.]Thorold,I could desist no longer. Ah, she swoons!That's well.Tresh.Oh, better far than that!Guen.She's dead!Let me unlock her arms!Tresh.She threw them thusAbout my neck, and blessed me, and then died:You'll let them stay now, Guendolen!Aus.Leave herAnd look to him! What ails you, Thorold?Guen.WhiteAs she, and whiter! Austin! quick—this side!Aus.A froth is oozing through his clenchèd teeth;Both lips, where they're not bitten through, are black:Speak, dearest Thorold!Tresh.Something does weigh downMy neck beside her weight: thanks: I should fallBut for you, Austin, I believe!—there, there,'T will pass away soon!—ah,—I had forgotten:I am dying.Guen.Thorold—Thorold—why was this?Tresh.I said, just as I drank the poison off,The earth would be no longer earth to me,The life out of all life was gone from me.There are blind ways provided, the foredoneHeart-weary player in this pageant-worldDrops out by, letting the main masque defileBy the conspicuous portal: I am through—Just through!Guen.Don't leave him, Austin! Death is close.Tresh.Already Mildred's face is peacefuller.I see you, Austin—feel you: here's my hand,Put yours in it—you, Guendolen, yours too!You 're lord and lady now—you're Treshams; nameAnd fame are yours: you hold our 'scutcheon up.Austin, no blot on it! You see how bloodMust wash one blot away: the first blot cameAnd the first blood came. To the vain world's eyeAll's gules again: no care to the vain world,From whence the red was drawn!Aus.No blot shall come!Tresh.I said that: yet it did come. Should it come,Vengeance is God's, not man's. Remember me![Dies.Guen.[Letting fall the pulseless arm.]Ah, Thorold, we can but—remember you!

Mil.He comes not! I have heard of those who seemed

Resourceless in prosperity,—you thought

Sorrow might slay them when she listed; yet

Did they so gather up their diffused strength

At her first menace, that they bade her strike,

And stood and laughed her subtlest skill to scorn.

Oh, 'tis not so with me! The first woe fell,

And the rest fall upon it, not on me:

Else should I hear that Henry comes not?—fails

Just this first night out of so many nights?

Loving is done with. Were he sitting now,

As so few hours since, on that seat, we'd love

No more—contrive no thousand happy ways

To hide love from the loveless, any more.

I think I might have urged some little point

In my defence, to Thorold; he was breathless

For the least hint of a defence: but no,

The first shame over, all that would might fall.

No Henry! Yet I merely sit and think

The morn's deed o'er and o'er. I must have crept

Out of myself. A Mildred that has lost

Her lover—oh, I dare not look upon

Such woe! I crouch away from it! 'Tis she,

Mildred, will break her heart, not I! The world

Forsakes me: only Henry's left me—left?

When I have lost him, for he does not come,

And I sit stupidly ... Oh Heaven, break up

This worse than anguish, this mad apathy,

By any means or any messenger!

Tresh.[Without.]Mildred!

Mil.Come in! Heaven hears me!

[EnterTresham.]You? alone?Oh, no more cursing!

[EnterTresham.]You? alone?

Oh, no more cursing!

Tresh.Mildred, I must sit.There—you sit!

Tresh.Mildred, I must sit.

There—you sit!

Mil.Say it, Thorold—do not lookThe curse! deliver all you come to say!What must become of me? Oh, speak that thoughtWhich makes your brow and cheeks so pale!

Mil.Say it, Thorold—do not look

The curse! deliver all you come to say!

What must become of me? Oh, speak that thought

Which makes your brow and cheeks so pale!

Tresh.My thought?

Mil.All of it!

Tresh.How we waded—years ago—After those water-lilies, till the plash,I know not how, surprised us; and you daredNeither advance nor turn back: so, we stoodLaughing and crying until Gerard came—Once safe upon the turf, the loudest too,For once more reaching the relinquished prize!How idle thoughts are, some men's, dying men's!Mildred,—

Tresh.How we waded—years ago—

After those water-lilies, till the plash,

I know not how, surprised us; and you dared

Neither advance nor turn back: so, we stood

Laughing and crying until Gerard came—

Once safe upon the turf, the loudest too,

For once more reaching the relinquished prize!

How idle thoughts are, some men's, dying men's!

Mildred,—

Mil.You call me kindlier by my nameThan even yesterday: what is in that?

Mil.You call me kindlier by my name

Than even yesterday: what is in that?

Tresh.It weighs so much upon my mind that IThis morning took an office not my own!I might ... of course, I must be glad or grieved,Content or not, at every little thingThat touches you. I may with a wrung heartEven reprove you, Mildred; I did more:Will you forgive me?

Tresh.It weighs so much upon my mind that I

This morning took an office not my own!

I might ... of course, I must be glad or grieved,

Content or not, at every little thing

That touches you. I may with a wrung heart

Even reprove you, Mildred; I did more:

Will you forgive me?

Mil.Thorold? do you mock?Or no ... and yet you bid me ... say that word!

Mil.Thorold? do you mock?

Or no ... and yet you bid me ... say that word!

Tresh.Forgive me, Mildred!—are you silent, Sweet?

Mil.[Starting up.]Why does not Henry Mertoun come to-night?Are you, too, silent?

Mil.[Starting up.]Why does not Henry Mertoun come to-night?

Are you, too, silent?

[Dashing his mantle aside, and pointing to his scabbard, which is empty.Ah, this speaks for you!You've murdered Henry Mertoun! Now proceed!What is it I must pardon? This and all?Well, I do pardon you—I think I do.Thorold, how very wretched you must be!

[Dashing his mantle aside, and pointing to his scabbard, which is empty.

Ah, this speaks for you!

You've murdered Henry Mertoun! Now proceed!

What is it I must pardon? This and all?

Well, I do pardon you—I think I do.

Thorold, how very wretched you must be!

Tresh.He bade me tell you ...

Mil.What I do forbidYour utterance of! So much that you may tellAnd will not—how you murdered him ... but, no!You'll tell me that he loved me, never moreThan bleeding out his life there: must I say"Indeed," to that? Enough! I pardon you.

Mil.What I do forbid

Your utterance of! So much that you may tell

And will not—how you murdered him ... but, no!

You'll tell me that he loved me, never more

Than bleeding out his life there: must I say

"Indeed," to that? Enough! I pardon you.

Tresh.You cannot, Mildred! for the harsh words, yes:Of this last deed Another's judge: whose doomI wait in doubt, despondency and fear.

Tresh.You cannot, Mildred! for the harsh words, yes:

Of this last deed Another's judge: whose doom

I wait in doubt, despondency and fear.

Mil.Oh, true! There's naught for me to pardon! True!You loose my soul of all its cares at once.Death makes me sure of him forever! YouTell me his last words? He shall tell me them,And take my answer—not in words, but readingHimself the heart I had to read him late,Which death ...

Mil.Oh, true! There's naught for me to pardon! True!

You loose my soul of all its cares at once.

Death makes me sure of him forever! You

Tell me his last words? He shall tell me them,

And take my answer—not in words, but reading

Himself the heart I had to read him late,

Which death ...

Tresh.Death? You are dying too? Well saidOf Guendolen! I dared not hope you'd die:But she was sure of it.

Tresh.Death? You are dying too? Well said

Of Guendolen! I dared not hope you'd die:

But she was sure of it.

Mil.Tell GuendolenI loved her, and tell Austin ...

Mil.Tell Guendolen

I loved her, and tell Austin ...

Tresh.Him you loved:And me?

Tresh.Him you loved:

And me?

Mil.Ah, Thorold! Was't not rashly doneTo quench that blood, on fire with youth and hopeAnd love of me—whom you loved too, and yetSuffered to sit here waiting his approachWhile you were slaying him? Oh, doubtlesslyYou let him speak his poor confused boy's-speech—Do his poor utmost to disarm your wrathAnd respite me!—you let him try to giveThe story of our love and ignorance,And the brief madness and the long despair—You let him plead all this, because your codeOf honor bids you hear before you strike:But at the end, as he looked up for lifeInto your eyes—you struck him down!

Mil.Ah, Thorold! Was't not rashly done

To quench that blood, on fire with youth and hope

And love of me—whom you loved too, and yet

Suffered to sit here waiting his approach

While you were slaying him? Oh, doubtlessly

You let him speak his poor confused boy's-speech

—Do his poor utmost to disarm your wrath

And respite me!—you let him try to give

The story of our love and ignorance,

And the brief madness and the long despair—

You let him plead all this, because your code

Of honor bids you hear before you strike:

But at the end, as he looked up for life

Into your eyes—you struck him down!

Tresh.No! No!Had I but heard him—had I let him speakHalf the truth—less—had I looked long on himI had desisted! Why, as he lay there,The moon on his flushed cheek, I gathered allThe story ere he told it: I saw throughThe troubled surface of his crime and yoursA depth of purity immovable;Had I but glanced, where all seemed turbidestHad gleamed some inlet to the calm beneath;I would not glance: my punishment's at hand.There, Mildred, is the truth! and you—say on—You curse me?

Tresh.No! No!

Had I but heard him—had I let him speak

Half the truth—less—had I looked long on him

I had desisted! Why, as he lay there,

The moon on his flushed cheek, I gathered all

The story ere he told it: I saw through

The troubled surface of his crime and yours

A depth of purity immovable;

Had I but glanced, where all seemed turbidest

Had gleamed some inlet to the calm beneath;

I would not glance: my punishment's at hand.

There, Mildred, is the truth! and you—say on—

You curse me?

Mil.As I dare approach that HeavenWhich has not bade a living thing despair,Which needs no code to keep its grace from stain,But bids the vilest worm that turns on itDesist and be forgiven,—I—forgive not,But bless you, Thorold, from my soul of souls![Falls on his neck.There! Do not think too much upon the past!The cloud that's broke was all the same a cloudWhile it stood up between my friend and you;You hurt him 'neath its shadow: but is thatSo past retrieve? I have his heart, you know;I may dispose of it: I give it you!It loves you as mine loves! Confirm me, Henry![Dies.

Mil.As I dare approach that Heaven

Which has not bade a living thing despair,

Which needs no code to keep its grace from stain,

But bids the vilest worm that turns on it

Desist and be forgiven,—I—forgive not,

But bless you, Thorold, from my soul of souls!

[Falls on his neck.

There! Do not think too much upon the past!

The cloud that's broke was all the same a cloud

While it stood up between my friend and you;

You hurt him 'neath its shadow: but is that

So past retrieve? I have his heart, you know;

I may dispose of it: I give it you!

It loves you as mine loves! Confirm me, Henry![Dies.

Tresh.I wish thee joy, Beloved! I am gladIn thy full gladness!

Tresh.I wish thee joy, Beloved! I am glad

In thy full gladness!

Guen.[Without.]Mildred! Tresham![Entering withAustin.]Thorold,I could desist no longer. Ah, she swoons!That's well.

Guen.[Without.]Mildred! Tresham!

[Entering withAustin.]Thorold,

I could desist no longer. Ah, she swoons!

That's well.

Tresh.Oh, better far than that!

Guen.She's dead!Let me unlock her arms!

Guen.She's dead!

Let me unlock her arms!

Tresh.She threw them thusAbout my neck, and blessed me, and then died:You'll let them stay now, Guendolen!

Tresh.She threw them thus

About my neck, and blessed me, and then died:

You'll let them stay now, Guendolen!

Aus.Leave herAnd look to him! What ails you, Thorold?

Aus.Leave her

And look to him! What ails you, Thorold?

Guen.WhiteAs she, and whiter! Austin! quick—this side!

Guen.White

As she, and whiter! Austin! quick—this side!

Aus.A froth is oozing through his clenchèd teeth;Both lips, where they're not bitten through, are black:Speak, dearest Thorold!

Aus.A froth is oozing through his clenchèd teeth;

Both lips, where they're not bitten through, are black:

Speak, dearest Thorold!

Tresh.Something does weigh downMy neck beside her weight: thanks: I should fallBut for you, Austin, I believe!—there, there,'T will pass away soon!—ah,—I had forgotten:I am dying.

Tresh.Something does weigh down

My neck beside her weight: thanks: I should fall

But for you, Austin, I believe!—there, there,

'T will pass away soon!—ah,—I had forgotten:

I am dying.

Guen.Thorold—Thorold—why was this?

Tresh.I said, just as I drank the poison off,The earth would be no longer earth to me,The life out of all life was gone from me.There are blind ways provided, the foredoneHeart-weary player in this pageant-worldDrops out by, letting the main masque defileBy the conspicuous portal: I am through—Just through!

Tresh.I said, just as I drank the poison off,

The earth would be no longer earth to me,

The life out of all life was gone from me.

There are blind ways provided, the foredone

Heart-weary player in this pageant-world

Drops out by, letting the main masque defile

By the conspicuous portal: I am through—

Just through!

Guen.Don't leave him, Austin! Death is close.

Tresh.Already Mildred's face is peacefuller.I see you, Austin—feel you: here's my hand,Put yours in it—you, Guendolen, yours too!You 're lord and lady now—you're Treshams; nameAnd fame are yours: you hold our 'scutcheon up.Austin, no blot on it! You see how bloodMust wash one blot away: the first blot cameAnd the first blood came. To the vain world's eyeAll's gules again: no care to the vain world,From whence the red was drawn!

Tresh.Already Mildred's face is peacefuller.

I see you, Austin—feel you: here's my hand,

Put yours in it—you, Guendolen, yours too!

You 're lord and lady now—you're Treshams; name

And fame are yours: you hold our 'scutcheon up.

Austin, no blot on it! You see how blood

Must wash one blot away: the first blot came

And the first blood came. To the vain world's eye

All's gules again: no care to the vain world,

From whence the red was drawn!

Aus.No blot shall come!

Tresh.I said that: yet it did come. Should it come,Vengeance is God's, not man's. Remember me![Dies.

Tresh.I said that: yet it did come. Should it come,

Vengeance is God's, not man's. Remember me![Dies.

Guen.[Letting fall the pulseless arm.]Ah, Thorold, we can but—remember you!

"Ivy and violet, what do ye hereWith blossom and shoot in the warm spring-weather,Hiding the arms of Monchenci and Vere?"Hanmer.

"Ivy and violet, what do ye here

With blossom and shoot in the warm spring-weather,

Hiding the arms of Monchenci and Vere?"

Hanmer.

NO ONE LOVES AND HONORS BARRY CORNWALL MORE THAN DOESROBERT BROWNING;WHO, HAVING NOTHING BETTER THAN THIS PLAYTO GIVE HIM IN PROOF OF IT, MUSY SAY SO.

Browning was stimulated by the enthusiastic reception ofA Blot in the 'Scutcheonto write another play for the stage, but for some reason it was not performed for ten years or so. It was printed in 1844 as No. VI. ofBells and Pomegranates. Mr. Gosse in hisPersonaliasays:—

"I have before me at the present moment acopy of the first edition, marked for acting by the author, who has written: 'I made the alterations in this copy to suit some—I forget what—projected stage representation; not that of Miss Faucit, which was carried into effect long afterward.' The stage directions are numerous and minute, showing the science which the dramatist had gained since he first essayed to put his creations on the boards.

"Some of the suggestions are characteristic enough. For instance: 'Unless a very good Valence is found, this extremely fine speech, [in Act IV. where Valence describes Berthold to Colombe], perhaps the jewel of the play, is to be left out.' In the present editions the verses run otherwise."

The play has recently [1895] been rearranged in three acts and brought again on the stage.

PERSONS

Colombe of Ravestein,Duchess of Juliers and Cleves.Sabyne, Adolf, her Attendants.Guibert, Gaucelme, Maufroy, Clugnet, Courtiers.Valence,Advocate of Cleves.Prince Berthold,Claimant of the Duchy.Melchior, his Confidant.Place,The Palace at Juliers.Time, 16—.

Colombe of Ravestein,Duchess of Juliers and Cleves.

Sabyne, Adolf, her Attendants.

Guibert, Gaucelme, Maufroy, Clugnet, Courtiers.

Valence,Advocate of Cleves.

Prince Berthold,Claimant of the Duchy.

Melchior, his Confidant.

Place,The Palace at Juliers.

Time, 16—.

Morning.Scene.A corridor leading to the Audience-chamber.Gaucelme, Clugnet, Maufroyand otherCourtiers,roundGuibertwho is silently reading a paper: as he drops it at the end—Guibert.That this should be her birthday; and the dayWe all invested her, twelve months ago,As the late Duke's true heiress and our liege;And that this also must become the day ...Oh, miserable lady!1st Courtier.Ay, indeed?2d Court.Well, Guibert?3d Court.But your news, my friend, your news!The sooner, friend, one learns Prince Berthold's pleasure,The better for us all: how writes the Prince?Give me! I'll read it for the common good.Gui.In time, sir,—but till time comes, pardon me!Our old Duke just disclosed his child's retreat,Declared her true succession to his rule,And died: this birthday was the day, last year,We convoyed her from Castle Ravestein—That sleeps out trustfully its extreme ageOn the Meuse' quiet bank, where she lived queenOver the water-buds,—to Juliers' courtWith joy and bustle. Here again we stand;Sir Gaucelme's buckle's constant to his cap:To-day's much such another sunny day!Gaucelme.Come, Guibert, this outgrows a jest, I think!You're hardly such a novice as to needThe lesson, you pretend.Gui.What lesson, sir?That everybody, if he'd thrive at court,Should, first and last of all, look to himself?Why, no: and therefore with your good example,(—Ho, Master Adolf!)—to myself I'll look.(EnterAdolf.)Gui.The Prince's letter; why, of all men else,Comes it to me?Adolf.By virtue of your place,Sir Guibert! 'Twas the Prince's express charge,His envoy told us, that the missive thereShould only reach our lady by the handOf whosoever held your place.Gui.Enough![Adolfretires.Then, gentles, who'll accept a certain poorIndifferently honorable place,My friends, I make no doubt, have gnashed their teethAt leisure minutes these half-dozen years,To find me never in the mood to quit?Who asks may have it, with my blessing, and—This to present our lady. Who'll accept?You,—you,—you? There it lies, and may, for me!Maufroy.[A youth, picking up the paper, reads aloud.]"Prince Berthold, proved by titles followingUndoubted Lord of Juliers, comes this dayTo claim his own, with license from the Pope,The Emperor, the Kings of Spain and France" ...Gau.Sufficient "titles following," I judge!Don't read another! Well,—"to claim his own?"Mau."—And take possession of the Duchy heldSince twelve months, to the true heir's prejudice,By" ... Colombe, Juliers' mistress, so she thinks,And Ravestein's mere lady, as we find!Who wants the place and paper? Guibert's right.I hope to climb a little in the world,—I'd push my fortunes,—but, no more than he,Could tell her on this happy day of days,That, save the nosegay in her hand, perhaps,There 's nothing left to call her own. Sir Clugnet,You famish for promotion; what say you?Clugnet.[An old man.]To give this letter were a sort, I take it,Of service: services ask recompense:What kind of corner may be Ravestein?Gui.The castle? Oh, you'd share her fortunes? Good!Three walls stand upright, full as good as four,With no such bad remainder of a roof.Clug.Oh,—but the town?Gui.Five houses, fifteen huts;A church whereto was once a spire, 't is judged;And half a dyke, except in time of thaw.Clug.Still there 's some revenue?Gui.Else Heaven forfend!You hang a beacon out, should fogs increase;So, when the Autumn floats of pine-wood steerSafe 'mid the white confusion, thanks to you,Their grateful raftsman flings a guilder in;—That's if he mean to pass your way next time.Clug.If not?Gui.Hang guilders, then! he blesses you.Clug.What man do you suppose me? Keep your paper!And, let me say, it shows no handsome spiritTo dally with misfortune: keep your place!Gau.Some one must tell her.Gui.Some one may: you may!Gau.Sir Guibert, 't is no trifle turns me sickOf court-hypocrisy at years like mine,But this goes near it. Where 's there news at all?Who'll have the face, for instance, to affirmHe never heard, e'en while we crowned the girl,That Juliers' tenure was by Salic law;That one, confessed her father's cousin's child,And, she away, indisputable heir,Against our choice protesting and the Duke's,Claimed Juliers?—nor, as he preferred his claim,That first this, then another potentate,Inclined to its allowance?—I or you,Or any one except the lady's self?Oh, it had been the direst crueltyTo break the business to her! Things might change:At all events, we 'd see next masque at end,Next mummery over first: and so the edgeWas taken off sharp tidings as they came,Till here 's the Prince upon us, and there 's she—Wreathing her hair, a song between her lips,With just the faintest notion possibleThat some such claimant earns a livelihoodAbout the world, by feigning grievances—Few pay the story of, but grudge its price,And fewer listen to, a second time.Your method proves a failure; now try mine!And, since this must be carried ...Gui.[Snatching the paper from him.]By your leave!Your zeal transports you! 'T will not serve the PrinceSo much as you expect, this course you 'd take.If she leaves quietly her palace,—well;But if she died upon its threshold,—no:He 'd have the trouble of removing her.Come, gentles, we 're all—what the devil knows!You, Gaucelme, won't lose character, beside—You broke your father's heart superiorlyTo gather his succession—never blush!You 're from my province, and, be comforted,They tell of it with wonder to this day.You can afford to let your talent sleep.We 'll take the very worst supposed, as true:There, the old Duke knew, when he hid his childAmong the river-flowers at Ravestein,With whom the right lay! Call the Prince our Duke!There, she 's no Duchess, she 's no anythingMore than a young maid with the bluest eyes:And now, sirs, we 'll not break this young maid's heartCoolly as Gaucelme could and would! No haste!His talent 's full-blown, ours but in the bud:We 'll not advance to his perfection yet—Will we, Sir Maufroy? See, I've ruined MaufroyForever as a courtier!Gau.Here 's a coil!And, count us, will you? Count its residue,This boasted convoy, this day last year's crowd!A birthday, too, a gratulation day!I'm dumb: bid that keep silence!Mau. and others.Eh, Sir Guibert?He 's right: that does say something: that 's bare truth.Ten—twelve, I make: a perilous dropping off!Gui.Pooh—is it audience hour? The vestibuleSwarms too, I wager, with the common sortThat want our privilege of entry here.Gau.Adolf![Re-enterAdolf.]Who 's outside?Gui.Oh, your looks suffice!Nobody waiting?Mau.[Looking through the door-folds.]Scarce our number!Gui.'Sdeath!Nothing to beg for, to complain about?It can't be! Ill news spreads, but not so fastAs thus to frighten all the world!Gau.The worldLives out of doors, sir—not with you and meBy presence-chamber porches, state-room stairs,Wherever warmth 's perpetual: outside 's freeTo every wind from every compass-pointAnd who may get nipped needs be weatherwise.The Prince comes and the lady's People go;The snow-goose settles down, the swallows flee—Why should they wait for winter-time? 'T is instinct:Don't you feel somewhat chilly?Gui.That 's their craft?And last year's crowders-round and criers-forthThat strewed the garlands, overarched the roads,Lighted the bonfires, sang the loyal songs!Well 't is my comfort, you could never call meThe People's Friend! The People keep their word—I keep my place: don't doubt I'll entertainThe People when the Prince comes, and the PeopleAre talked of! Then, their speeches—no one tongueFound respite, not a pen had holiday—For they wrote, too, as well as spoke, these knaves!Now see: we tax and tithe them, pill and poll,They wince and fret enough, but pay they must—We manage that,—so, pay with a good graceThey might as well, it costs so little more.But when we 've done with taxes, meet folk nextOutside the toll-booth and the rating-place,In public—there they have us if they will,We 're at their mercy after that, you see!For one tax not ten devils could extort—Over and above necessity, a grace;This prompt disbosoming of love, to wit—Their vine-leaf wrappage of our tribute penny,And crowning attestation, all works well.Yet this precisely do they thrust on us!These cappings quick, these crook-and-cringings low,Hand to the heart, and forehead to the knee,With grin that shuts the eyes and opes the mouth—So tender they their love; and, tender made,Go home to curse us, the first doit we ask.As if their souls were any longer theirs!As if they had not given ample warrantTo who should clap a collar on their neck,Rings in their nose, a goad to either flank,And take them for the brute they boast themselves!Stay—there's a bustle at the outer door—And somebody entreating ... that's my name!Adolf,—I heard my name!Adolf.'T was probablyThe suitor.Gui.Oh, there is one?Adolf.With a suitHe 'd fain enforce in person.Gui.The good heart—And the great fool! Just ope the mid-door's fold!Is that a lappet of his cloak, I see?Adolf.If it bear plenteous sign of travel ... ay,The very cloak my comrades tore!Gui.Why tore?Adolf.He seeks the Duchess' presence in that trim:Since daybreak, was he posted hereaboutsLest he should miss the moment.Gui.Where 's he now?Adolf.Gone for a minute possibly, not more:They have ado enough to thrust him back.Gui.Ay—but my name, I caught?Adolf.Oh, sir—he said—What was it?—You had known him formerly,And, he believed, would help him did you guessHe waited now; you promised him as much:The old plea! 'Faith, he 's back,—renews the charge![Speaking at the door.]So long as the man parleys, peace outside—Nor be too ready with your halberts, there!Gau.My horse bespattered, as he blocked the pathA thin sour man, not unlike somebody.Adolf.He holds a paper in his breast, whereonHe glances when his cheeks flush and his browAt each repulse—Gau.I noticed he 'd a brow.Adolf.So glancing, he grows calmer, leans awhileOver the balustrade, adjusts his dress,And presently turns round, quiet again,With some new pretext for admittance.—Back![ToGuibert.]—Sir, he has seen you! Now cross halberts! Ha—Pascal is prostrate—there lies Fabian too!No passage! Whither would the madman press?Close the doors quick on me!Gui.Too late! He's here.(Enter, hastily and with discomposed dress,Valence.)Valence.Sir Guibert, will you help me?—Me, that comeCharged by your townsmen, all who starve at Cleves,To represent their heights and depths of woeBefore our Duchess and obtain relief!Such errands barricade such doors, it seems:But not a common hindrance drives me backOn all the sad yet hopeful faces, litWith hope for the first time, which sent me forth.Cleves, speak for me! Cleves' men and women, speak!Who followed me—your strongest—many a mileThat I might go the fresher from their ranks,—Who sit—your weakest—by the city gates,To take me fuller of what news I bringAs I return—for I must needs return!—Can I? 'T were hard, no listener for their wrongs,To turn them back upon the old despair—Harder, Sir Guibert, than imploring thus—So, I do—any way you please—implore!If you ... but how should you remember Cleves?Yet they of Cleves remember you so well!Ay, comment on each trait of you they keep,Your words and deeds caught up at second hand,—Proud, I believe, at bottom of their hearts,O' the very levity and recklessnessWhich only prove that you forget their wrongs,Cleves, the grand town, whose men and women starve,Is Cleves forgotten? Then, remember me!You promised me that you would help me onceFor other purpose: will you keep your word?Gui.And who may you be, friend?Val.Valence of Cleves.Gui.Valence of ... not the advocate of Cleves,I owed my whole estate to, three years back?Ay, well may you keep silence! Why, my lords,You 've heard, I'm sure, how, Pentecost three years,I was so nearly ousted of my landBy some knave's-pretext—(eh? when you refused meYour ugly daughter, Clugnet!)—and you've heardHow I recovered it by miracle—(When I refused her!) Here's the very friend,—Valence of Cleves, all parties have to thank!Nay, Valence, this procedure's vile in you!I'm no more grateful than a courtier should,But politic am I—I bear a brain,Can cast about a little, might requireYour services a second time. I triedTo tempt you with advancement here to court—"No!"—well, for curiosity at leastTo view our life here—"No!"—our Duchess, then,—A pretty woman's worth some pains to see,Nor is she spoiled, I take it, if a crownComplete the forehead pale and tresses pure ...Val.Our city trusted me its miseries,And I am come.Gui.So much for taste! But "come,"—So may you be, for anything I know,To beg the Pope's cross, or Sir Clugnet's daughter,And with an equal chance you get all three!If it was ever worth your while to come,Was not the proper way worth finding too?Val.Straight to the palace-portal, sir, I came—Gui.—And said?—Val.—That I had brought the miseriesOf a whole city to relieve.Gui.—Which sayingWon your admittance? You saw me, indeed,And here, no doubt, you stand: as certainly,My intervention, I shall not dispute,Procures you audience; which, if I procure,—That paper's closely written—by Saint Paul,Here flock the Wrongs, follow the Remedies,Chapter and verse, One, Two, A, B and C!Perhaps you'd enter, make a reverence,And launch these "miseries" from first to last?Val.How should they let me pause or turn aside?Gau.[ToValence.]My worthy sir, one question! You've come straightFrom Cleves, you tell us: heard you any talkAt Cleves about our lady?Val.Much.Gau.And what?Val.Her wish was to redress all wrongs she knew.Gau.That, you believed?Val.You see me, sir!Gau.—Nor stoppedUpon the road from Cleves to Juliers here,For any—rumors you might find afloat?Val.I had my townsmen's wrongs to busy me.Gau.This is the lady's birthday, do you know?—Her day of pleasure?Val.—That the great, I know,For pleasure born, should still be on the watchTo exclude pleasure when a duty offers:Even as, for duty born, the lowly tooMay ever snatch a pleasure if in reach:Both will have plenty of their birthright, sir!Gau.[Aside toGuibert.]Sir Guibert, here's your man! No scruples now—You'll never find his like! Time presses hard,I've seen your drift and Adolf's too, this while,But you can't keep the hour of audience backMuch longer, and at noon the Prince arrives.[Pointing toValence.]Entrust him with it—fool no chance away!Gui.Him?Gau.—With the missive! What's the man to her?Gui.No bad thought!—Yet, 't is yours, who ever playedThe tempting serpent: else 't were no bad thought!I should—and do—mistrust it for your sake,Or else ...(Enter anOfficialwho communicates withAdolf.)Adolf.The Duchess will receive the court!Gui.Give us a moment, Adolf! Valence, friend,I'll help you. We of the service, you're to mark,Have special entry, while the herd ... the folkOutside, get access through our help alone;—Well, it is so, was so, and I supposeSo ever will be: your natural lot is, therefore,To wait your turn and opportunity,And probably miss both. Now, I engageTo set you, here and in a minute's space,Before the lady, with full leave to pleadChapter and verse, and A, and B, and C,To heart's content.Val.I grieve that I must ask,—This being, yourself admit, the custom here,—To what the price of such a favor mounts?Gui.Just so! You're not without a courtier's tact.Little at court, as your quick instinct prompts,Do such as we without a recompense.Val.Yours is?Gui.A trifle: here 's a document'T is some one's duty to present her Grace—I say, not mine—these say, not theirs—such pointsHave weight at court. Will you relieve us allAnd take it? Just say, "I am bidden layThis paper at the Duchess' feet!"Val.No more?I thank you, sir!Adolf.Her Grace receives the court!Gui.[Aside.]Now,sursum corda, quoth the mass-priest! Do—Whoever's my kind saint, do let aloneThese pushings to and fro, and pullings back;Peaceably let me hang o' the devil's armThe downward path, if you can't pluck me offCompletely! Let me live quite his, or yours![TheCourtiersbegin to range themselves, and move toward the door.After me, Valence! So, our famous ClevesLacks bread? Yet don't we gallants buy their lace?And dear enough—it beggars me, I know,To keep my very gloves fringed properly.This, Valence, is our Great State Hall you cross;Yon gray urn's veritable marcasite,The Pope's gift: and those salvers testifyThe Emperor. Presently you'll set your foot... But you don't speak, friend Valence!Val.I shall speak.Gau.[Aside toGuibert.]Guibert—it were no such ungraceful thingIf you and I, at first, seemed horror-struckWith the bad news. Look here, what you shall do!Suppose you, first, clap hand to sword and cry"Yield strangers our allegiance? First I'll perishBeside your Grace!"—and so give me the cueTo ...Gui.—Clap your hand to note-book and jot downThat to regale the Prince with? I conceive.[ToValence.]Do, Valence, speak, or I shall half suspectYou're plotting to supplant us, me the first,I' the lady's favor! Is't the grand harangueYou mean to make, that thus engrosses you?—Which of her virtues you'll apostrophize?Or is't the fashion you aspire to start,Of that close-curled, not unbecoming hair?Or what else ponder you?Val.My townsmen's wrongs.

Morning.Scene.A corridor leading to the Audience-chamber.

Gaucelme, Clugnet, Maufroyand otherCourtiers,roundGuibertwho is silently reading a paper: as he drops it at the end—

Guibert.That this should be her birthday; and the dayWe all invested her, twelve months ago,As the late Duke's true heiress and our liege;And that this also must become the day ...Oh, miserable lady!

Guibert.That this should be her birthday; and the day

We all invested her, twelve months ago,

As the late Duke's true heiress and our liege;

And that this also must become the day ...

Oh, miserable lady!

1st Courtier.Ay, indeed?

2d Court.Well, Guibert?

3d Court.But your news, my friend, your news!The sooner, friend, one learns Prince Berthold's pleasure,The better for us all: how writes the Prince?Give me! I'll read it for the common good.

3d Court.But your news, my friend, your news!

The sooner, friend, one learns Prince Berthold's pleasure,

The better for us all: how writes the Prince?

Give me! I'll read it for the common good.

Gui.In time, sir,—but till time comes, pardon me!Our old Duke just disclosed his child's retreat,Declared her true succession to his rule,And died: this birthday was the day, last year,We convoyed her from Castle Ravestein—That sleeps out trustfully its extreme ageOn the Meuse' quiet bank, where she lived queenOver the water-buds,—to Juliers' courtWith joy and bustle. Here again we stand;Sir Gaucelme's buckle's constant to his cap:To-day's much such another sunny day!

Gui.In time, sir,—but till time comes, pardon me!

Our old Duke just disclosed his child's retreat,

Declared her true succession to his rule,

And died: this birthday was the day, last year,

We convoyed her from Castle Ravestein—

That sleeps out trustfully its extreme age

On the Meuse' quiet bank, where she lived queen

Over the water-buds,—to Juliers' court

With joy and bustle. Here again we stand;

Sir Gaucelme's buckle's constant to his cap:

To-day's much such another sunny day!

Gaucelme.Come, Guibert, this outgrows a jest, I think!You're hardly such a novice as to needThe lesson, you pretend.

Gaucelme.Come, Guibert, this outgrows a jest, I think!

You're hardly such a novice as to need

The lesson, you pretend.

Gui.What lesson, sir?That everybody, if he'd thrive at court,Should, first and last of all, look to himself?Why, no: and therefore with your good example,(—Ho, Master Adolf!)—to myself I'll look.

Gui.What lesson, sir?

That everybody, if he'd thrive at court,

Should, first and last of all, look to himself?

Why, no: and therefore with your good example,

(—Ho, Master Adolf!)—to myself I'll look.

(EnterAdolf.)

Gui.The Prince's letter; why, of all men else,Comes it to me?

Gui.The Prince's letter; why, of all men else,

Comes it to me?

Adolf.By virtue of your place,Sir Guibert! 'Twas the Prince's express charge,His envoy told us, that the missive thereShould only reach our lady by the handOf whosoever held your place.

Adolf.By virtue of your place,

Sir Guibert! 'Twas the Prince's express charge,

His envoy told us, that the missive there

Should only reach our lady by the hand

Of whosoever held your place.

Gui.Enough![Adolfretires.Then, gentles, who'll accept a certain poorIndifferently honorable place,My friends, I make no doubt, have gnashed their teethAt leisure minutes these half-dozen years,To find me never in the mood to quit?Who asks may have it, with my blessing, and—This to present our lady. Who'll accept?You,—you,—you? There it lies, and may, for me!

Gui.Enough!

[Adolfretires.

Then, gentles, who'll accept a certain poor

Indifferently honorable place,

My friends, I make no doubt, have gnashed their teeth

At leisure minutes these half-dozen years,

To find me never in the mood to quit?

Who asks may have it, with my blessing, and—

This to present our lady. Who'll accept?

You,—you,—you? There it lies, and may, for me!

Maufroy.[A youth, picking up the paper, reads aloud.]"Prince Berthold, proved by titles followingUndoubted Lord of Juliers, comes this dayTo claim his own, with license from the Pope,The Emperor, the Kings of Spain and France" ...

Maufroy.[A youth, picking up the paper, reads aloud.]

"Prince Berthold, proved by titles following

Undoubted Lord of Juliers, comes this day

To claim his own, with license from the Pope,

The Emperor, the Kings of Spain and France" ...

Gau.Sufficient "titles following," I judge!Don't read another! Well,—"to claim his own?"

Gau.Sufficient "titles following," I judge!

Don't read another! Well,—"to claim his own?"

Mau."—And take possession of the Duchy heldSince twelve months, to the true heir's prejudice,By" ... Colombe, Juliers' mistress, so she thinks,And Ravestein's mere lady, as we find!Who wants the place and paper? Guibert's right.I hope to climb a little in the world,—I'd push my fortunes,—but, no more than he,Could tell her on this happy day of days,That, save the nosegay in her hand, perhaps,There 's nothing left to call her own. Sir Clugnet,You famish for promotion; what say you?

Mau."—And take possession of the Duchy held

Since twelve months, to the true heir's prejudice,

By" ... Colombe, Juliers' mistress, so she thinks,

And Ravestein's mere lady, as we find!

Who wants the place and paper? Guibert's right.

I hope to climb a little in the world,—

I'd push my fortunes,—but, no more than he,

Could tell her on this happy day of days,

That, save the nosegay in her hand, perhaps,

There 's nothing left to call her own. Sir Clugnet,

You famish for promotion; what say you?

Clugnet.[An old man.]To give this letter were a sort, I take it,Of service: services ask recompense:What kind of corner may be Ravestein?

Clugnet.[An old man.]To give this letter were a sort, I take it,

Of service: services ask recompense:

What kind of corner may be Ravestein?

Gui.The castle? Oh, you'd share her fortunes? Good!Three walls stand upright, full as good as four,With no such bad remainder of a roof.

Gui.The castle? Oh, you'd share her fortunes? Good!

Three walls stand upright, full as good as four,

With no such bad remainder of a roof.

Clug.Oh,—but the town?

Gui.Five houses, fifteen huts;A church whereto was once a spire, 't is judged;And half a dyke, except in time of thaw.

Gui.Five houses, fifteen huts;

A church whereto was once a spire, 't is judged;

And half a dyke, except in time of thaw.

Clug.Still there 's some revenue?

Gui.Else Heaven forfend!You hang a beacon out, should fogs increase;So, when the Autumn floats of pine-wood steerSafe 'mid the white confusion, thanks to you,Their grateful raftsman flings a guilder in;—That's if he mean to pass your way next time.

Gui.Else Heaven forfend!

You hang a beacon out, should fogs increase;

So, when the Autumn floats of pine-wood steer

Safe 'mid the white confusion, thanks to you,

Their grateful raftsman flings a guilder in;

—That's if he mean to pass your way next time.

Clug.If not?

Gui.Hang guilders, then! he blesses you.

Clug.What man do you suppose me? Keep your paper!And, let me say, it shows no handsome spiritTo dally with misfortune: keep your place!

Clug.What man do you suppose me? Keep your paper!

And, let me say, it shows no handsome spirit

To dally with misfortune: keep your place!

Gau.Some one must tell her.

Gui.Some one may: you may!

Gau.Sir Guibert, 't is no trifle turns me sickOf court-hypocrisy at years like mine,But this goes near it. Where 's there news at all?Who'll have the face, for instance, to affirmHe never heard, e'en while we crowned the girl,That Juliers' tenure was by Salic law;That one, confessed her father's cousin's child,And, she away, indisputable heir,Against our choice protesting and the Duke's,Claimed Juliers?—nor, as he preferred his claim,That first this, then another potentate,Inclined to its allowance?—I or you,Or any one except the lady's self?Oh, it had been the direst crueltyTo break the business to her! Things might change:At all events, we 'd see next masque at end,Next mummery over first: and so the edgeWas taken off sharp tidings as they came,Till here 's the Prince upon us, and there 's she—Wreathing her hair, a song between her lips,With just the faintest notion possibleThat some such claimant earns a livelihoodAbout the world, by feigning grievances—Few pay the story of, but grudge its price,And fewer listen to, a second time.Your method proves a failure; now try mine!And, since this must be carried ...

Gau.Sir Guibert, 't is no trifle turns me sick

Of court-hypocrisy at years like mine,

But this goes near it. Where 's there news at all?

Who'll have the face, for instance, to affirm

He never heard, e'en while we crowned the girl,

That Juliers' tenure was by Salic law;

That one, confessed her father's cousin's child,

And, she away, indisputable heir,

Against our choice protesting and the Duke's,

Claimed Juliers?—nor, as he preferred his claim,

That first this, then another potentate,

Inclined to its allowance?—I or you,

Or any one except the lady's self?

Oh, it had been the direst cruelty

To break the business to her! Things might change:

At all events, we 'd see next masque at end,

Next mummery over first: and so the edge

Was taken off sharp tidings as they came,

Till here 's the Prince upon us, and there 's she

—Wreathing her hair, a song between her lips,

With just the faintest notion possible

That some such claimant earns a livelihood

About the world, by feigning grievances—

Few pay the story of, but grudge its price,

And fewer listen to, a second time.

Your method proves a failure; now try mine!

And, since this must be carried ...

Gui.[Snatching the paper from him.]By your leave!Your zeal transports you! 'T will not serve the PrinceSo much as you expect, this course you 'd take.If she leaves quietly her palace,—well;But if she died upon its threshold,—no:He 'd have the trouble of removing her.Come, gentles, we 're all—what the devil knows!You, Gaucelme, won't lose character, beside—You broke your father's heart superiorlyTo gather his succession—never blush!You 're from my province, and, be comforted,They tell of it with wonder to this day.You can afford to let your talent sleep.We 'll take the very worst supposed, as true:There, the old Duke knew, when he hid his childAmong the river-flowers at Ravestein,With whom the right lay! Call the Prince our Duke!There, she 's no Duchess, she 's no anythingMore than a young maid with the bluest eyes:And now, sirs, we 'll not break this young maid's heartCoolly as Gaucelme could and would! No haste!His talent 's full-blown, ours but in the bud:We 'll not advance to his perfection yet—Will we, Sir Maufroy? See, I've ruined MaufroyForever as a courtier!

Gui.[Snatching the paper from him.]By your leave!

Your zeal transports you! 'T will not serve the Prince

So much as you expect, this course you 'd take.

If she leaves quietly her palace,—well;

But if she died upon its threshold,—no:

He 'd have the trouble of removing her.

Come, gentles, we 're all—what the devil knows!

You, Gaucelme, won't lose character, beside—

You broke your father's heart superiorly

To gather his succession—never blush!

You 're from my province, and, be comforted,

They tell of it with wonder to this day.

You can afford to let your talent sleep.

We 'll take the very worst supposed, as true:

There, the old Duke knew, when he hid his child

Among the river-flowers at Ravestein,

With whom the right lay! Call the Prince our Duke!

There, she 's no Duchess, she 's no anything

More than a young maid with the bluest eyes:

And now, sirs, we 'll not break this young maid's heart

Coolly as Gaucelme could and would! No haste!

His talent 's full-blown, ours but in the bud:

We 'll not advance to his perfection yet—

Will we, Sir Maufroy? See, I've ruined Maufroy

Forever as a courtier!

Gau.Here 's a coil!And, count us, will you? Count its residue,This boasted convoy, this day last year's crowd!A birthday, too, a gratulation day!I'm dumb: bid that keep silence!

Gau.Here 's a coil!

And, count us, will you? Count its residue,

This boasted convoy, this day last year's crowd!

A birthday, too, a gratulation day!

I'm dumb: bid that keep silence!

Mau. and others.Eh, Sir Guibert?He 's right: that does say something: that 's bare truth.Ten—twelve, I make: a perilous dropping off!

Mau. and others.Eh, Sir Guibert?

He 's right: that does say something: that 's bare truth.

Ten—twelve, I make: a perilous dropping off!

Gui.Pooh—is it audience hour? The vestibuleSwarms too, I wager, with the common sortThat want our privilege of entry here.

Gui.Pooh—is it audience hour? The vestibule

Swarms too, I wager, with the common sort

That want our privilege of entry here.

Gau.Adolf![Re-enterAdolf.]Who 's outside?

Gui.Oh, your looks suffice!Nobody waiting?

Gui.Oh, your looks suffice!

Nobody waiting?

Mau.[Looking through the door-folds.]Scarce our number!

Gui.'Sdeath!Nothing to beg for, to complain about?It can't be! Ill news spreads, but not so fastAs thus to frighten all the world!

Gui.'Sdeath!

Nothing to beg for, to complain about?

It can't be! Ill news spreads, but not so fast

As thus to frighten all the world!

Gau.The worldLives out of doors, sir—not with you and meBy presence-chamber porches, state-room stairs,Wherever warmth 's perpetual: outside 's freeTo every wind from every compass-pointAnd who may get nipped needs be weatherwise.The Prince comes and the lady's People go;The snow-goose settles down, the swallows flee—Why should they wait for winter-time? 'T is instinct:Don't you feel somewhat chilly?

Gau.The world

Lives out of doors, sir—not with you and me

By presence-chamber porches, state-room stairs,

Wherever warmth 's perpetual: outside 's free

To every wind from every compass-point

And who may get nipped needs be weatherwise.

The Prince comes and the lady's People go;

The snow-goose settles down, the swallows flee—

Why should they wait for winter-time? 'T is instinct:

Don't you feel somewhat chilly?

Gui.That 's their craft?And last year's crowders-round and criers-forthThat strewed the garlands, overarched the roads,Lighted the bonfires, sang the loyal songs!Well 't is my comfort, you could never call meThe People's Friend! The People keep their word—I keep my place: don't doubt I'll entertainThe People when the Prince comes, and the PeopleAre talked of! Then, their speeches—no one tongueFound respite, not a pen had holiday—For they wrote, too, as well as spoke, these knaves!Now see: we tax and tithe them, pill and poll,They wince and fret enough, but pay they must—We manage that,—so, pay with a good graceThey might as well, it costs so little more.But when we 've done with taxes, meet folk nextOutside the toll-booth and the rating-place,In public—there they have us if they will,We 're at their mercy after that, you see!For one tax not ten devils could extort—Over and above necessity, a grace;This prompt disbosoming of love, to wit—Their vine-leaf wrappage of our tribute penny,And crowning attestation, all works well.Yet this precisely do they thrust on us!These cappings quick, these crook-and-cringings low,Hand to the heart, and forehead to the knee,With grin that shuts the eyes and opes the mouth—So tender they their love; and, tender made,Go home to curse us, the first doit we ask.As if their souls were any longer theirs!As if they had not given ample warrantTo who should clap a collar on their neck,Rings in their nose, a goad to either flank,And take them for the brute they boast themselves!Stay—there's a bustle at the outer door—And somebody entreating ... that's my name!Adolf,—I heard my name!

Gui.That 's their craft?

And last year's crowders-round and criers-forth

That strewed the garlands, overarched the roads,

Lighted the bonfires, sang the loyal songs!

Well 't is my comfort, you could never call me

The People's Friend! The People keep their word—

I keep my place: don't doubt I'll entertain

The People when the Prince comes, and the People

Are talked of! Then, their speeches—no one tongue

Found respite, not a pen had holiday

—For they wrote, too, as well as spoke, these knaves!

Now see: we tax and tithe them, pill and poll,

They wince and fret enough, but pay they must

—We manage that,—so, pay with a good grace

They might as well, it costs so little more.

But when we 've done with taxes, meet folk next

Outside the toll-booth and the rating-place,

In public—there they have us if they will,

We 're at their mercy after that, you see!

For one tax not ten devils could extort—

Over and above necessity, a grace;

This prompt disbosoming of love, to wit—

Their vine-leaf wrappage of our tribute penny,

And crowning attestation, all works well.

Yet this precisely do they thrust on us!

These cappings quick, these crook-and-cringings low,

Hand to the heart, and forehead to the knee,

With grin that shuts the eyes and opes the mouth—

So tender they their love; and, tender made,

Go home to curse us, the first doit we ask.

As if their souls were any longer theirs!

As if they had not given ample warrant

To who should clap a collar on their neck,

Rings in their nose, a goad to either flank,

And take them for the brute they boast themselves!

Stay—there's a bustle at the outer door—

And somebody entreating ... that's my name!

Adolf,—I heard my name!

Adolf.'T was probablyThe suitor.

Adolf.'T was probably

The suitor.

Gui.Oh, there is one?

Adolf.With a suitHe 'd fain enforce in person.

Adolf.With a suit

He 'd fain enforce in person.

Gui.The good heart—And the great fool! Just ope the mid-door's fold!Is that a lappet of his cloak, I see?

Gui.The good heart

—And the great fool! Just ope the mid-door's fold!

Is that a lappet of his cloak, I see?

Adolf.If it bear plenteous sign of travel ... ay,The very cloak my comrades tore!

Adolf.If it bear plenteous sign of travel ... ay,

The very cloak my comrades tore!

Gui.Why tore?

Adolf.He seeks the Duchess' presence in that trim:Since daybreak, was he posted hereaboutsLest he should miss the moment.

Adolf.He seeks the Duchess' presence in that trim:

Since daybreak, was he posted hereabouts

Lest he should miss the moment.

Gui.Where 's he now?

Adolf.Gone for a minute possibly, not more:They have ado enough to thrust him back.

Adolf.Gone for a minute possibly, not more:

They have ado enough to thrust him back.

Gui.Ay—but my name, I caught?

Adolf.Oh, sir—he said—What was it?—You had known him formerly,And, he believed, would help him did you guessHe waited now; you promised him as much:The old plea! 'Faith, he 's back,—renews the charge![Speaking at the door.]So long as the man parleys, peace outside—Nor be too ready with your halberts, there!

Adolf.Oh, sir—he said

—What was it?—You had known him formerly,

And, he believed, would help him did you guess

He waited now; you promised him as much:

The old plea! 'Faith, he 's back,—renews the charge!

[Speaking at the door.]So long as the man parleys, peace outside—

Nor be too ready with your halberts, there!

Gau.My horse bespattered, as he blocked the pathA thin sour man, not unlike somebody.

Gau.My horse bespattered, as he blocked the path

A thin sour man, not unlike somebody.

Adolf.He holds a paper in his breast, whereonHe glances when his cheeks flush and his browAt each repulse—

Adolf.He holds a paper in his breast, whereon

He glances when his cheeks flush and his brow

At each repulse—

Gau.I noticed he 'd a brow.

Adolf.So glancing, he grows calmer, leans awhileOver the balustrade, adjusts his dress,And presently turns round, quiet again,With some new pretext for admittance.—Back![ToGuibert.]—Sir, he has seen you! Now cross halberts! Ha—Pascal is prostrate—there lies Fabian too!No passage! Whither would the madman press?Close the doors quick on me!

Adolf.So glancing, he grows calmer, leans awhile

Over the balustrade, adjusts his dress,

And presently turns round, quiet again,

With some new pretext for admittance.—Back!

[ToGuibert.]—Sir, he has seen you! Now cross halberts! Ha—

Pascal is prostrate—there lies Fabian too!

No passage! Whither would the madman press?

Close the doors quick on me!

Gui.Too late! He's here.

(Enter, hastily and with discomposed dress,Valence.)

Valence.Sir Guibert, will you help me?—Me, that comeCharged by your townsmen, all who starve at Cleves,To represent their heights and depths of woeBefore our Duchess and obtain relief!Such errands barricade such doors, it seems:But not a common hindrance drives me backOn all the sad yet hopeful faces, litWith hope for the first time, which sent me forth.Cleves, speak for me! Cleves' men and women, speak!Who followed me—your strongest—many a mileThat I might go the fresher from their ranks,—Who sit—your weakest—by the city gates,To take me fuller of what news I bringAs I return—for I must needs return!—Can I? 'T were hard, no listener for their wrongs,To turn them back upon the old despair—Harder, Sir Guibert, than imploring thus—So, I do—any way you please—implore!If you ... but how should you remember Cleves?Yet they of Cleves remember you so well!Ay, comment on each trait of you they keep,Your words and deeds caught up at second hand,—Proud, I believe, at bottom of their hearts,O' the very levity and recklessnessWhich only prove that you forget their wrongs,Cleves, the grand town, whose men and women starve,Is Cleves forgotten? Then, remember me!You promised me that you would help me onceFor other purpose: will you keep your word?

Valence.Sir Guibert, will you help me?—Me, that come

Charged by your townsmen, all who starve at Cleves,

To represent their heights and depths of woe

Before our Duchess and obtain relief!

Such errands barricade such doors, it seems:

But not a common hindrance drives me back

On all the sad yet hopeful faces, lit

With hope for the first time, which sent me forth.

Cleves, speak for me! Cleves' men and women, speak!

Who followed me—your strongest—many a mile

That I might go the fresher from their ranks,

—Who sit—your weakest—by the city gates,

To take me fuller of what news I bring

As I return—for I must needs return!

—Can I? 'T were hard, no listener for their wrongs,

To turn them back upon the old despair—

Harder, Sir Guibert, than imploring thus—

So, I do—any way you please—implore!

If you ... but how should you remember Cleves?

Yet they of Cleves remember you so well!

Ay, comment on each trait of you they keep,

Your words and deeds caught up at second hand,—

Proud, I believe, at bottom of their hearts,

O' the very levity and recklessness

Which only prove that you forget their wrongs,

Cleves, the grand town, whose men and women starve,

Is Cleves forgotten? Then, remember me!

You promised me that you would help me once

For other purpose: will you keep your word?

Gui.And who may you be, friend?

Val.Valence of Cleves.

Gui.Valence of ... not the advocate of Cleves,I owed my whole estate to, three years back?Ay, well may you keep silence! Why, my lords,You 've heard, I'm sure, how, Pentecost three years,I was so nearly ousted of my landBy some knave's-pretext—(eh? when you refused meYour ugly daughter, Clugnet!)—and you've heardHow I recovered it by miracle—(When I refused her!) Here's the very friend,—Valence of Cleves, all parties have to thank!Nay, Valence, this procedure's vile in you!I'm no more grateful than a courtier should,But politic am I—I bear a brain,Can cast about a little, might requireYour services a second time. I triedTo tempt you with advancement here to court—"No!"—well, for curiosity at leastTo view our life here—"No!"—our Duchess, then,—A pretty woman's worth some pains to see,Nor is she spoiled, I take it, if a crownComplete the forehead pale and tresses pure ...

Gui.Valence of ... not the advocate of Cleves,

I owed my whole estate to, three years back?

Ay, well may you keep silence! Why, my lords,

You 've heard, I'm sure, how, Pentecost three years,

I was so nearly ousted of my land

By some knave's-pretext—(eh? when you refused me

Your ugly daughter, Clugnet!)—and you've heard

How I recovered it by miracle

—(When I refused her!) Here's the very friend,

—Valence of Cleves, all parties have to thank!

Nay, Valence, this procedure's vile in you!

I'm no more grateful than a courtier should,

But politic am I—I bear a brain,

Can cast about a little, might require

Your services a second time. I tried

To tempt you with advancement here to court

—"No!"—well, for curiosity at least

To view our life here—"No!"—our Duchess, then,—

A pretty woman's worth some pains to see,

Nor is she spoiled, I take it, if a crown

Complete the forehead pale and tresses pure ...

Val.Our city trusted me its miseries,And I am come.

Val.Our city trusted me its miseries,

And I am come.

Gui.So much for taste! But "come,"—So may you be, for anything I know,To beg the Pope's cross, or Sir Clugnet's daughter,And with an equal chance you get all three!If it was ever worth your while to come,Was not the proper way worth finding too?

Gui.So much for taste! But "come,"—

So may you be, for anything I know,

To beg the Pope's cross, or Sir Clugnet's daughter,

And with an equal chance you get all three!

If it was ever worth your while to come,

Was not the proper way worth finding too?

Val.Straight to the palace-portal, sir, I came—

Gui.—And said?—

Val.—That I had brought the miseriesOf a whole city to relieve.

Val.—That I had brought the miseries

Of a whole city to relieve.

Gui.—Which sayingWon your admittance? You saw me, indeed,And here, no doubt, you stand: as certainly,My intervention, I shall not dispute,Procures you audience; which, if I procure,—That paper's closely written—by Saint Paul,Here flock the Wrongs, follow the Remedies,Chapter and verse, One, Two, A, B and C!Perhaps you'd enter, make a reverence,And launch these "miseries" from first to last?

Gui.—Which saying

Won your admittance? You saw me, indeed,

And here, no doubt, you stand: as certainly,

My intervention, I shall not dispute,

Procures you audience; which, if I procure,—

That paper's closely written—by Saint Paul,

Here flock the Wrongs, follow the Remedies,

Chapter and verse, One, Two, A, B and C!

Perhaps you'd enter, make a reverence,

And launch these "miseries" from first to last?

Val.How should they let me pause or turn aside?

Gau.[ToValence.]My worthy sir, one question! You've come straightFrom Cleves, you tell us: heard you any talkAt Cleves about our lady?

Gau.[ToValence.]My worthy sir, one question! You've come straight

From Cleves, you tell us: heard you any talk

At Cleves about our lady?

Val.Much.

Gau.And what?

Val.Her wish was to redress all wrongs she knew.

Gau.That, you believed?

Val.You see me, sir!

Gau.—Nor stoppedUpon the road from Cleves to Juliers here,For any—rumors you might find afloat?

Gau.—Nor stopped

Upon the road from Cleves to Juliers here,

For any—rumors you might find afloat?

Val.I had my townsmen's wrongs to busy me.

Gau.This is the lady's birthday, do you know?—Her day of pleasure?

Gau.This is the lady's birthday, do you know?

—Her day of pleasure?

Val.—That the great, I know,For pleasure born, should still be on the watchTo exclude pleasure when a duty offers:Even as, for duty born, the lowly tooMay ever snatch a pleasure if in reach:Both will have plenty of their birthright, sir!

Val.—That the great, I know,

For pleasure born, should still be on the watch

To exclude pleasure when a duty offers:

Even as, for duty born, the lowly too

May ever snatch a pleasure if in reach:

Both will have plenty of their birthright, sir!

Gau.[Aside toGuibert.]Sir Guibert, here's your man! No scruples now—You'll never find his like! Time presses hard,I've seen your drift and Adolf's too, this while,But you can't keep the hour of audience backMuch longer, and at noon the Prince arrives.[Pointing toValence.]Entrust him with it—fool no chance away!

Gau.[Aside toGuibert.]Sir Guibert, here's your man! No scruples now—

You'll never find his like! Time presses hard,

I've seen your drift and Adolf's too, this while,

But you can't keep the hour of audience back

Much longer, and at noon the Prince arrives.

[Pointing toValence.]Entrust him with it—fool no chance away!

Gui.Him?

Gau.—With the missive! What's the man to her?

Gui.No bad thought!—Yet, 't is yours, who ever playedThe tempting serpent: else 't were no bad thought!I should—and do—mistrust it for your sake,Or else ...

Gui.No bad thought!—Yet, 't is yours, who ever played

The tempting serpent: else 't were no bad thought!

I should—and do—mistrust it for your sake,

Or else ...

(Enter anOfficialwho communicates withAdolf.)

Adolf.The Duchess will receive the court!

Gui.Give us a moment, Adolf! Valence, friend,I'll help you. We of the service, you're to mark,Have special entry, while the herd ... the folkOutside, get access through our help alone;—Well, it is so, was so, and I supposeSo ever will be: your natural lot is, therefore,To wait your turn and opportunity,And probably miss both. Now, I engageTo set you, here and in a minute's space,Before the lady, with full leave to pleadChapter and verse, and A, and B, and C,To heart's content.

Gui.Give us a moment, Adolf! Valence, friend,

I'll help you. We of the service, you're to mark,

Have special entry, while the herd ... the folk

Outside, get access through our help alone;

—Well, it is so, was so, and I suppose

So ever will be: your natural lot is, therefore,

To wait your turn and opportunity,

And probably miss both. Now, I engage

To set you, here and in a minute's space,

Before the lady, with full leave to plead

Chapter and verse, and A, and B, and C,

To heart's content.

Val.I grieve that I must ask,—This being, yourself admit, the custom here,—To what the price of such a favor mounts?

Val.I grieve that I must ask,—

This being, yourself admit, the custom here,—

To what the price of such a favor mounts?

Gui.Just so! You're not without a courtier's tact.Little at court, as your quick instinct prompts,Do such as we without a recompense.

Gui.Just so! You're not without a courtier's tact.

Little at court, as your quick instinct prompts,

Do such as we without a recompense.

Val.Yours is?

Gui.A trifle: here 's a document'T is some one's duty to present her Grace—I say, not mine—these say, not theirs—such pointsHave weight at court. Will you relieve us allAnd take it? Just say, "I am bidden layThis paper at the Duchess' feet!"

Gui.A trifle: here 's a document

'T is some one's duty to present her Grace—

I say, not mine—these say, not theirs—such points

Have weight at court. Will you relieve us all

And take it? Just say, "I am bidden lay

This paper at the Duchess' feet!"

Val.No more?I thank you, sir!

Val.No more?

I thank you, sir!

Adolf.Her Grace receives the court!

Gui.[Aside.]Now,sursum corda, quoth the mass-priest! Do—Whoever's my kind saint, do let aloneThese pushings to and fro, and pullings back;Peaceably let me hang o' the devil's armThe downward path, if you can't pluck me offCompletely! Let me live quite his, or yours![TheCourtiersbegin to range themselves, and move toward the door.After me, Valence! So, our famous ClevesLacks bread? Yet don't we gallants buy their lace?And dear enough—it beggars me, I know,To keep my very gloves fringed properly.This, Valence, is our Great State Hall you cross;Yon gray urn's veritable marcasite,The Pope's gift: and those salvers testifyThe Emperor. Presently you'll set your foot... But you don't speak, friend Valence!

Gui.[Aside.]Now,sursum corda, quoth the mass-priest! Do—

Whoever's my kind saint, do let alone

These pushings to and fro, and pullings back;

Peaceably let me hang o' the devil's arm

The downward path, if you can't pluck me off

Completely! Let me live quite his, or yours!

[TheCourtiersbegin to range themselves, and move toward the door.

After me, Valence! So, our famous Cleves

Lacks bread? Yet don't we gallants buy their lace?

And dear enough—it beggars me, I know,

To keep my very gloves fringed properly.

This, Valence, is our Great State Hall you cross;

Yon gray urn's veritable marcasite,

The Pope's gift: and those salvers testify

The Emperor. Presently you'll set your foot

... But you don't speak, friend Valence!

Val.I shall speak.

Gau.[Aside toGuibert.]Guibert—it were no such ungraceful thingIf you and I, at first, seemed horror-struckWith the bad news. Look here, what you shall do!Suppose you, first, clap hand to sword and cry"Yield strangers our allegiance? First I'll perishBeside your Grace!"—and so give me the cueTo ...

Gau.[Aside toGuibert.]Guibert—it were no such ungraceful thing

If you and I, at first, seemed horror-struck

With the bad news. Look here, what you shall do!

Suppose you, first, clap hand to sword and cry

"Yield strangers our allegiance? First I'll perish

Beside your Grace!"—and so give me the cue

To ...

Gui.—Clap your hand to note-book and jot downThat to regale the Prince with? I conceive.[ToValence.]Do, Valence, speak, or I shall half suspectYou're plotting to supplant us, me the first,I' the lady's favor! Is't the grand harangueYou mean to make, that thus engrosses you?—Which of her virtues you'll apostrophize?Or is't the fashion you aspire to start,Of that close-curled, not unbecoming hair?Or what else ponder you?

Gui.—Clap your hand to note-book and jot down

That to regale the Prince with? I conceive.

[ToValence.]Do, Valence, speak, or I shall half suspect

You're plotting to supplant us, me the first,

I' the lady's favor! Is't the grand harangue

You mean to make, that thus engrosses you?

—Which of her virtues you'll apostrophize?

Or is't the fashion you aspire to start,

Of that close-curled, not unbecoming hair?

Or what else ponder you?

Val.My townsmen's wrongs.

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