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Give me them again, those hands→→→

Put them upon my forehead, how it throbs!

Press them before my eyes, the fire comes through.
You cruellest, you dearest in the world,

Let me the Queen must grant whate'er I ask-
How can I gain you and not ask the Queen?
There she stays waiting for me, here stand you.
Some time or other this was to be asked;
Now is the one time-what I ask, I gain→
Let me ask now, Love!

CONSTANCE.

Do, and ruin us.

NORBERT.

Let it be now, Love! All my soul breaks forth.
How I do love you! give my love its way!
A man can have but one life and one death,
One heaven, one hell. Let me fulfil my fate-
Grant me my heaven now. Let me know you mine,
Prove you mine, write my name upon your brow,
Hold you and have you, and then die away
If God please, with completion in my soul.

CONSTANCE.

I am not yours then? how content this man?
I am not his, who change into himself,

Have passed into his heart and beat its beats,
Who give my hands to him, my eyes, my hair,
Give all that was of me away to him

So well, that now, my spirit turned his own,
Takes part with him against the woman here,
Bids him not stumble at so mere a straw
As caring that the world be cognisant
How he loves her and how she worships him.
You have this woman, not as yet that world.
Go on, I bid, nor stop to care for me

By saving what I cease to care about,

The courtly name and pride of circumstance—
The name you'll pick up and be cumbered with
Just for the poor parade's sake, nothing more,
Just that the world may slip from under you,
Just that the world may cry “So much for him—
The man predestined to the heap of crowns:
There goes his chance of winning one, at least!"

NORBERT.

The world!

CONSTANCE.

You love it. Love me quite as well,

And see if I shall pray for this in vain!

Why must you ponder what it knows or thinks?

NORBERT.

You pray for what, in vain ?

CONSTANCE.

Oh my heart's heart,

How I do love you, Norbert !—that is right!
But listen, or I take my hands away.

You say, "let it be now"-you would go now
And tell the Queen, perhaps six steps from us,
You love me so you do, thank God!

NORBERT.

Thank God!

CONSTANCE.

Yes, Norbert, but you fain would tell your love,

And, what succeeds the telling, ask of her

My hand. Now take this rose and look at it,
Listening to me. You are the minister,

The Queen's first favourite, nor without a cause.
To-night completes your wonderful year's-work
(This palace-feast is held to celebrate)
Made memorable by her life's success,
The junction of two crowns on her sole head
Her house had only dreamed of anciently.

That this mere dream is grown a stable truth
To-night's feast makes authentic. Whose the praise?
Whose genius, patience, energy, achieved

What turned the many heads and broke the hearts ?
You are the fate-your minute's in the heaven.
Next comes the Queen's turn. Name your own reward!
With leave to clench the past, chain the to-come,

Put out an arm and touch and take the sun
And fix it ever full-faced on your earth,

Possess yourself supremely of her life,

You choose the single thing she will not grant—
Nay, very declaration of which choice

Will turn the scale and neutralise your work.
At best she will forgive you, if she can,

You think I'll let you choose--her cousin's hand?

Wait.

NORBERT.

First, do you retain your old belief

The Queen is generous,—nay, is just ?

CONSTANCE.

There, there!

So men make women love them, while they know

No more of women's hearts than . . . look you here. You that are just and generous beside,

Make it your own case. For example now,

I'll say I let you kiss me and hold my hands-
Why do you know why? I'll instruct you, then-

The kiss, because you have a name at court,
This hand and this, that you may shut in each
A jewel, if you please to pick up such.
That's horrible? Apply it to the Queen-
Suppose, I am the Queen to whom you speak.

"I was a nameless man: you needed me:
Why did I proffer you my aid? there stood
A certain pretty Cousin at your side.

Why did I make such common cause with you?
Access to her had not been easy else.

You give my labours here abundant praise?
'Faith, labour, while she overlooked, grew play.
How shall your gratitude discharge itself?
Give me her hand!"

NORBERT.

And still I urge the same.

Is the Queen just? just-generous or no !

CONSTANCE.

Yes, just. You love a rose-no harm in that-
But was it for the rose's sake or mine

You put it in your bosom? mine, you said-
Then mine you still must say or else be false.
You told the Queen you served her for herself:
If so, to serve her was to serve yourself
She thinks, for all your unbelieving face!
I know her. In the hall, six steps from us,
One sees the twenty pictures-there's a life
Better than life—and yet no life at all.
Conceive her born in such a magic dome,

Pictures all round her! why, she sees the world,

Can recognise its given things and facts,

The fight of giants or the feast of gods,

Sages in senate, beauties at the bath,

Chaces and battles, the whole earth's display,

Landscape and sea-piece, down to flowers and fruitAnd who shall question that she knows them all

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