A Blot In The 'Scutcheon [3]
and its woman's constancy, How pure yet passionate, how calm yet kind, How grave yet joyous, how reserved yet free As light where friends are--how imbued with lore The world most prizes, yet the simplest, yet The... one might know I talked of Mildred--thus We brothers talk!
MERTOUN. I thank you.
TRESHAM. In a word, Control's not for this lady; but her wish To please me outstrips in its subtlety My power of being pleased: herself creates The want she means to satisfy. My heart Prefers your suit to her as 'twere its own. Can I say more?
MERTOUN. No more--thanks, thanks--no more!
TRESHAM. This matter then discussed...
MERTOUN. --We'll waste no breath On aught less precious. I'm beneath the roof Which holds her: while I thought of that, my speech To you would wander--as it must not do, Since as you favour me I stand or fall. I pray you suffer that I take my leave!
TRESHAM. With less regret 'tis suffered, that again We meet, I hope, so shortly.
MERTOUN. We? again?-- Ah yes, forgive me--when shall... you will crown Your goodness by forthwith apprising me When... if... the lady will appoint a day For me to wait on you--and her.
TRESHAM. So soon As I am made acquainted with her thoughts On your proposal--howsoe'er they lean-- A messenger shall bring you the result.
MERTOUN. You cannot bind me more to you, my lord. Farewell till we renew... I trust, renew A converse ne'er to disunite again.
TRESHAM. So may it prove!
MERTOUN. You, lady, you, sir, take My humble salutation!
GUENDOLEN and AUSTIN. Thanks!
TRESHAM. Within there! [Servants enter. TRESHAM conducts MERTOUN to the door. Meantime AUSTIN remarks,] Well, Here I have an advantage of the Earl, Confess now! I'd not think that all was safe Because my lady's brother stood my friend! Why, he makes sure of her--"do you say yes-- She'll not say, no,"--what comes it to beside? I should have prayed the brother, "speak this speech, For Heaven's sake urge this on her--put in this-- Forget not, as you'd save me, t'other thing,-- Then set down what she says, and how she looks, And if she smiles, and" (in an under breath) "Only let her accept me, and do you And all the world refuse me, if you dare!"
GUENDOLEN. That way you'd take, friend Austin? What a shame I was your cousin, tamely from the first Your bride, and all this fervour's run to waste! Do you know you speak sensibly to-day? The Earl's a fool.
AUSTIN. Here's Thorold. Tell him so!
TRESHAM [returning]. Now, voices, voices! 'St! the lady's first! How seems he?--seems he not... come, faith give fraud The mercy-stroke whenever they engage! Down with fraud, up with faith! How seems the Earl? A name! a blazon! if you knew their worth, As you will never! come--the Earl?
GUENDOLEN. He's young.
TRESHAM. What's she? an infant save in heart and brain. Young! Mildred is fourteen, remark! And you... Austin, how old is she?
GUENDOLEN. There's tact for you! I meant that being young was good excuse If one should tax him...
TRESHAM. Well?
GUENDOLEN. --With lacking wit.
TRESHAM. He lacked wit? Where might he lack wit, so please you?
GUENDOLEN. In standing straighter than the steward's rod And making you the tiresomest harangue, Instead of slipping over to my side And softly whispering in my ear, "Sweet lady, Your cousin there will do me detriment He little dreams of: he's absorbed, I see, In my old name and fame--be sure he'll leave My Mildred, when his best account of me Is ended, in full confidence I wear My grandsire's periwig down either cheek. I'm lost unless your gentleness vouchsafes"...
TRESHAM... "To give a best of best accounts, yourself, Of me and my demerits." You are right! He should have said what now I say for him. Yon golden creature,
MERTOUN. I thank you.
TRESHAM. In a word, Control's not for this lady; but her wish To please me outstrips in its subtlety My power of being pleased: herself creates The want she means to satisfy. My heart Prefers your suit to her as 'twere its own. Can I say more?
MERTOUN. No more--thanks, thanks--no more!
TRESHAM. This matter then discussed...
MERTOUN. --We'll waste no breath On aught less precious. I'm beneath the roof Which holds her: while I thought of that, my speech To you would wander--as it must not do, Since as you favour me I stand or fall. I pray you suffer that I take my leave!
TRESHAM. With less regret 'tis suffered, that again We meet, I hope, so shortly.
MERTOUN. We? again?-- Ah yes, forgive me--when shall... you will crown Your goodness by forthwith apprising me When... if... the lady will appoint a day For me to wait on you--and her.
TRESHAM. So soon As I am made acquainted with her thoughts On your proposal--howsoe'er they lean-- A messenger shall bring you the result.
MERTOUN. You cannot bind me more to you, my lord. Farewell till we renew... I trust, renew A converse ne'er to disunite again.
TRESHAM. So may it prove!
MERTOUN. You, lady, you, sir, take My humble salutation!
GUENDOLEN and AUSTIN. Thanks!
TRESHAM. Within there! [Servants enter. TRESHAM conducts MERTOUN to the door. Meantime AUSTIN remarks,] Well, Here I have an advantage of the Earl, Confess now! I'd not think that all was safe Because my lady's brother stood my friend! Why, he makes sure of her--"do you say yes-- She'll not say, no,"--what comes it to beside? I should have prayed the brother, "speak this speech, For Heaven's sake urge this on her--put in this-- Forget not, as you'd save me, t'other thing,-- Then set down what she says, and how she looks, And if she smiles, and" (in an under breath) "Only let her accept me, and do you And all the world refuse me, if you dare!"
GUENDOLEN. That way you'd take, friend Austin? What a shame I was your cousin, tamely from the first Your bride, and all this fervour's run to waste! Do you know you speak sensibly to-day? The Earl's a fool.
AUSTIN. Here's Thorold. Tell him so!
TRESHAM [returning]. Now, voices, voices! 'St! the lady's first! How seems he?--seems he not... come, faith give fraud The mercy-stroke whenever they engage! Down with fraud, up with faith! How seems the Earl? A name! a blazon! if you knew their worth, As you will never! come--the Earl?
GUENDOLEN. He's young.
TRESHAM. What's she? an infant save in heart and brain. Young! Mildred is fourteen, remark! And you... Austin, how old is she?
GUENDOLEN. There's tact for you! I meant that being young was good excuse If one should tax him...
TRESHAM. Well?
GUENDOLEN. --With lacking wit.
TRESHAM. He lacked wit? Where might he lack wit, so please you?
GUENDOLEN. In standing straighter than the steward's rod And making you the tiresomest harangue, Instead of slipping over to my side And softly whispering in my ear, "Sweet lady, Your cousin there will do me detriment He little dreams of: he's absorbed, I see, In my old name and fame--be sure he'll leave My Mildred, when his best account of me Is ended, in full confidence I wear My grandsire's periwig down either cheek. I'm lost unless your gentleness vouchsafes"...
TRESHAM... "To give a best of best accounts, yourself, Of me and my demerits." You are right! He should have said what now I say for him. Yon golden creature,