From Savoy's nobles, who must wring its worth
In silver first from tillers of the soil,
Whose hinds again have to contribute brass
To make up the amount-there's counsel, sir!
My counsel, one year old; and the fruit, this-
Savoy's become a mass of misery

And wrath, which one man has to meet the King:
You're not the King! Another counsel, sir!

Spain entertains a project (here it lies)

Which, guessed, makes Austria offer that same King
Thus much to baffle Spain; he promises;

Then comes Spain, breathless lest she be forestalled,
Her offer follows; and he promises . .

...

Cha. -Promises, sir, when he before agreed

To Austria's offer?

D'O.

That's a counsel, Prince!

But past our foresight, Spain and Austria (choosing
To make their quarrel up between themselves
Without the intervention of a friend)

Produce both treaties, and both promises . .

Cha. How? D'O.

...

Prince, a counsel!-And the fruit of that?

Both parties covenant afresh, to fall

Together on their friend, blot out his name,
Abolish him from Europe. So take note,
Here's Austria and here's Spain to fight against,
And what sustains the King but Savoy here,
A miserable people mad with wrongs?
You're not the King!

Cha.

Polyxena, you said

All would clear up-all does clear up to me!

D'O. Clears up? 'Tis no such thing to envy, then? You see the King's state in its length and breadth ? You blame me, now, for keeping you aloof

From counsels and the fruit of counsels ?-Wait
Till I've explained this morning's business!
Cha. [Aside.]

Stoop to my father, yes,-to D'Ormea, no;

No

-The King's son, not to the King's counsellor!

I will do something, but at least retain

The credit of my deed! [Aloud.] Then, D'Ormea, this You now expressly come to tell me?

D'O.

To tell! You apprehend me?

Cha.

This

Perfectly.

And further, D'Ormea, you have shown yourself,
For the first time these many weeks and months,
Disposed to do my bidding?

D'O.

From the heart!

Cha. Acquaint my father, first, I wait his pleasure: Next... or, I'll tell you at a fitter time.

Acquaint the King!

D'O. [Aside.]

If I' scape Victor yet!

First, to prevent this stroke at me—if not,—

Then, to avenge it! [To CHA.] Gracious sir, I go. [Goes.

Cha. God, I forbore! Which more offends-that man

Or that man's master? Is it come to this?

Have they supposed (the sharpest insult yet)

No!

I needed e'en his intervention?

No dull am I, conceded, but so dull,
Scarcely! Their step decides me.

Pol.

How decides?

Cha. You would be free from D'Ormea's eye and hers? -Could fly the court with me and live content? So this it is for which the knights assemble! The whispers and the closeting of late,

The savageness and insolence of old,

Their clever plot? I missed it—but could you?
These last two months of care to inculcate
How dull I am,-with D'Ormea's present visit
To prove that, being dull, I might be worse.
Were I a king-as wretched as now dull—
You recognize in it no winding up

Of a long plot?

Pol.

Why should there be a plot?

Cha. The crown's secure now; I should shame the

crown

An old complaint; the point is, how to gain

My place for one more fit in Victor's eyes,
His mistress', the Sebastian's child.

Pol.

In truth?

Cha. They dare not quite dethrone Sardinia's Prince:

But they may descant on my dulness till

They sting me into even praying them

For leave to hide my head, resign my state,
And end the coil. Not see now? In a word,
They'd have me tender them myself my rights
As one incapable :-some cause for that,
Since I delayed thus long to see their drift!
I shall apprise the King he may resume
My rights this moment.

Pol.

So ill of Victor.

Cha.

Pause-I dare not think

Think no ill of him!

Pol.-Nor think him, then, so shallow as to suffer
His purpose be divined thus easily.

And yet you are the last of a great line;
There's a great heritage at stake; new days
Seemed to await this newest of the realms
Of Europe:-Charles, you must withstand this!
Cha.

You dare not then renounce the splendid court
For one whom all the world despises? Speak!
Pol. My gentle husband, speak I will, and truth.
Were this as you believe, and I once sure
Your duty lay in so renouncing rule,

I could. . could? Oh, what happiness it were-
To live, my Charles, and die alone with you!

Ah!

Cha. I grieve I asked you. To the Presence, then! D'Ormea acquaints the King by this, no doubt,

He fears I am too simple for mere hints,

And that no less will serve than Victor's mouth
Teaching me in full council what I am.

-I have not breathed, I think, these many years!

Pol. Why-it may be !-if he desires to wed

That woman and legitimate her child—

Cha. You see as much? Oh, let his will have way!

You'll not repent confiding in me, love?

There's many a brighter spot in Piedmont, far,
Than Rivoli. I'll seek him-or, suppose

You hear first how I mean to speak my mind?
-Loudly and firmly both, this time, be sure!
I yet may see your Rhine-land-who can tell?
Once away, ever then away y! I breathe.

Pol. And I too breathe!

Cha.

Come, my Polyxena!

KING VICTOR: PART II.

Enter KING VICTOR, bearing the regalia on a cushion from his apartment. He calls loudly.

D'Ormea!-for patience fails me, treading thus
Among the trains that I have laid,—my knights,

Safe in the hall here-in that anteroom,

My son, and D'Ormea where?

Of this, one touch

[Laying down the crown.

This fire-ball to these mute, black, cold trains-then !

Outbreak enough!

[Contemplating it.] To lose all, after all!

This glancing o'er my house for ages-shaped,
Brave meteor, like the Crown of Cyprus now-
Jerusalem, Spain, England-every change
The braver, and when I have clutched a prize