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 to GUIBERT.] Guibert-it were no such ungraceful thing

If you and I, at first, seemed horrorstruck

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 down
That to regale the Prince with? I conceive!
[To VALENCE.] Do, Valence, speak, or I shall half suspect
You're plotting to supplant us, me the first,

I' the Lady's favour: 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?

Vai.

My townsmen's wrongs!

ACT II.

Noon. SCENE.-The Presence-chamber.

The DUCHESS and SABYNE.

The D. Announce that I am ready for the Court!
Sab. 'Tis scarcely audience-hour, I think-your Grace

May best consult your own relief, no doubt,

And shun the crowd; but few can have arrived ..

The D. Let those not yet arrived, then, keep away 'Twas me, this day, last year at Ravestein,

You hurried.

This half-hour.

Sab.

It has been full time, beside,

Do you hesitate ?

Forgive me!

The D. Stay, Sabyne; let me hasten to make sure
Of one true thanker: here with you begins
My audience, claim you first its privilege!
It is my birth's event they celebrate—

You need not wish me more such happy days,
But-ask some favour! Have you none to ask?
Has Adolf none, then? this was far from least
Of much I waited for impatiently,
Assure yourself! It seemed so natural
Your gift, beside this bunch of river-bells,
Should be the power and leave of doing good
To you, and greater pleasure to myself:
You ask my leave to-day to marry Adolf!
The rest is my concern.

Sab.

Your grace is ever

Our Lady of dear Ravestein,―but, for Adolf...

The D. "But"? You have not, sure, changed in

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

Leave Juliers, when when... But 'tis audience-time'

...

The D. "When, if you left me, I were left indeed ”Would you subjoin that?—Bid the Court approach! -Why should we play thus with each other, Sabyne? Do I not know, if courtiers prove remiss,

If friends detain me, and get blame for it,

There is a cause? Of last year's fervid throng
Scarce one half comes now!

`Sab. [Aside.]

One half?

No, alas!

The D. So can the mere suspicion of a cloud

Over my fortunes strike each loyal heart.

They've heard of this Prince Berthold; and, forsooth,
Each foolish arrogant pretence he makes,

May grow more foolish and more arrogant,
They please to apprehend! I thank their love!
Admit them!

Sab. [Aside.] How much has she really learned?
The D. Surely, whoever's absent, Tristan waits?
-Or at least Romuald, whom my father raised
From nothing-come, he's faithful to me, come !
(Sabyne, I should but be the prouder-yes,

And fitter to comport myself aright)

Not Romuald? Xavier-what said he to that?

For Xavier hates a parasite, I know!

[SABYNE goes out

The D. Well, sunshine's everywhere, and summer too;

Next year 'tis the old place again, perhaps—

The water-breeze again, the birds again

... It cannot be ! It is too late to be!
What part had I, or choice in all of it?
Hither they brought me; I had not to think
Nor care, concern myself with doing good
Or ill, my task was just-to live,—to live,
And, answering ends there was no need explain,
To render Juliers happy-so they said.

All could not have been falsehood! Some was love,
And wonder and obedience-I did all

They looked for! Why then cease to do it now?
Yet this is to be calmly set aside,

And-ere next birthday's dawn, for aught I know,
Things change, a claimant may arrive, and I ...
It cannot nor it shall not be! His right?
Well then, he has the right, and I have not,
-But who bade all of you surround my life
And close its growth up with
Ducal crown
Which, plucked off rudely, leaves me perishing?
I could have been like one of you,-loved, hoped,
Feared, lived and died like one of you-but you
Would take that life away and give me this,
And I will keep this! I will face you- Come

your

Enter the Courtiers and VALENCE.

The Courtiers. Many such happy mornings to your Grace!

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

I have been over-fearful. These are few

But these, at least, stand firmly-these are mine!
As many come as may, and if no more,

'Tis that these few suffice-they do suffice!

What succour may not next year bring me! Plainly

I feared too soon! [to the Court.] I thank you, sirs:

all thanks!

Val. [Aside, as the DUCHESS passes from one group to another, conversing.]

"Tis she-the vision this day last year brought,

When for a golden moment at our Cleves

...

She tarried in her progress hither. Cleves
Chose me to speak its welcome, and I spoke
-Not that she could have noted the recluse
-Ungainly, old before his time-who gazed—
. Well, Heaven's gifts are not wasted, and that gaze
Kept, and shall keep me to the end, her own!
She was above it--but so would not sink
My gaze to earth! The People caught it, hers—
Thenceforward, mine; but thus entirely mine,
Who shall affirm, had she not raised my soul
Ere she retired and left me-them?-She turns-
There's all her wondrous face at once! The ground