earldom Freely would give the broad lands of my Bal. Let me beg you, sir, Descend with me the Duke may be offended. (Voice, loudly.) Say nay!-say nay! Pol. (aside.) 'Tis strange!-'tis very strange-methought the voice Chimed in with my desires and bade me stay! (approaching the window.) Sweet voice! I heed thee, and will surely stay. Now be this Fancy, by Heaven, or be it Fate, Still will I not descend. Baldazzar, make Apology unto the Duke for me; I go not down to-night. Bal. Your lordship's pleasure Shall be attended to. Good night, Politian. Το IV. The gardens of a palace-Moonlight. Lalage and Politian. Lalage. And dost thou speak of love me, Politian ?-dost thou speak of love To Lalage ?—ah woe-ah woe is me! This mockery is most cruel-most cruel indeed. Politian. Weep not! oh, sob not thus !-thy bitter tears Will madden me. Oh mourn not, Lalage Be comforted! I know-I know it all, And still I speak of love. Look at me, brightest, Knowing what I know, and seeing what I have seen. Thus on my bended knee I answer thee. (kneeling.) Sweet Lalage, I love thee-love thee-love thee; Lal. Alas, proud Earl, (arising.) Thou dost forget thyself, remembering me! Pol. Speak not to me of glory! I hate-I loathe the name; I do abhor Art thou not Lalage and I Politian ? Do I not love-art thou not beautiful What need we more? Ha! glory!—now speak not of it: By all I hold most sacred and most solemn― By all my wishes now-my fears hereafter- Descend together-and then-and then perchance- Arise together, Lalage, and roam The starry and quiet dwellings of the blest, Lal. Why dost thou pause, Politian ? Thou lovest me, and in my heart of hearts Pol. Oh, Lalage! (throwing himself upon his knee.) And lovest thou me? Lal. Hist! hush! within the gloom Of yonder trees methought a figure past— A spectral figure, solemn, and slow, and noiseless- (walks across and returns.) I was mistaken-'twas but a giant bough Stirred by the autumn wind. Politian! Far less a shadow which thou likenest to it, Should shake the firm spirit thus. But the night wind Is chilly-and these melancholy boughs Throw over all things a gloom. Lal. Politian ! Thou speakest to me of love. Knowest thou the land A thousand leagues within the golden west? And mountains, around whose towering summits the winds Of Heaven untrammelled flow-which air to breathe Is Happiness now, and will be Freedom hereafter In days that are to come? Pol. O, wilt thou-wilt thou Fly to that Paradise-my Lalage, wilt thou Fly thither with me? There Care shall be forgotten, G And Sorrow shall be no more, and Eros be all. Lal. A deed is to be done Castiglione. lives! Pol. And he shall die! (exit.) Lal. (after a pause.) And-he-shall-die! alas! Castiglione die? Who spoke the words? O speak to me! I knew thou wouldst not go -He is gone, he is goneGone-gone. Where am I ?—'tis well-'tis So that the blade be keen-the blow be sure, 'Tis well, 'tis very well-alas! alas! V. The Suburbs. Politian alone. Politian. This weakness grows upon me. And much I fear me ill-it will not do very well! I am faint, To die ere I have lived!-Stay-stay thy hand, Enter Baldazzar. Bal. That knowing no cause of quarrel or of feud Between the Earl Politian and himself, He doth decline your cartel. Pol. What didst thou say? What answer was it you brought me, good Baldazzar With what excessive fragrance the zephyr comes Laden from yonder bowers!-a fairer day, Or one more worthy Italy, methinks No mortal eyes have seen!-what said the Count ? Bal. That he, Castiglione, not being aware Of any feud existing, or any cause Of quarrel between your lordship and himself Pol. It is most true All this is very true. When saw you, sir, When saw you now, Baldazzar, in the frigid Having no cause for quarrel. Pol. Now this is true you, All very true. Thou art my friend, Baldazzar, sir: |