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The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [25]

By Root 15728 0
1836, being styled "Scenes from Politian: an unpublished drama." These scenes were included, unaltered, in the 1845 collection of Poems, by Poe. The larger portion of the original draft subsequently became the property of the present editor, but it is not considered just to the poet's memory to publish it. The work is a hasty and unrevised production of its author's earlier days of literary labor; and, beyond the scenes already known, scarcely calculated to enhance his reputation. As a specimen, however, of the parts unpublished, the following fragment from the first scene of Act II. may be offered. The Duke, it should be premised, is uncle to Alessandra, and father of Castiglione her betrothed.

Duke. Why do you laugh?

Castiglione. Indeed

I hardly know myself. Stay! Was it not

On yesterday we were speaking of the Earl?

Of the Earl Politian? Yes! it was yesterday.

Alessandra, you and 1, you must remember!

We were walking in the garden.

Duke, Perfectly.

I do remember it-what of it-what then?

Cas. 0 nothing-nothing at all.

Duke. Nothing at all!

It is most singular that you should laugh

'At nothing at all!

Cas. Most singular-singular!

Duke. Look you, Castiglione, be so kind

As tell me, sir, at once what 'tis you mean.

What are you talking of?

Cas. Was it not so?

We differed in opinion touching him.

Duke. Him!—Whom?

Cas. Why, sir, the Earl Politian.

Duke. The Earl of Leicester! Yes!—is it he you mean?

We differed, indeed. If I now recollect

The words you used were that the Earl you knew

Was neither learned nor mirthful.

Cas. Ha! ha!—now did I?

Duke. That did you, sir, and well I knew at the time

You were wrong, it being not the character

Of the Earl-whom all the world allows to be

A most hilarious man. Be not, my son,

Too positive again.

Cas. 'Tis singular!

Most singular! I could not think it possible

So little time could so much alter one!

To say the truth about an hour ago,

As I was walking with the Count San Ozzo,

All arm in arm, we met this very man

The Earl-he, with his friend Baldazzar,

Having just arrived in Rome. Hal ha! he is altered!

Such an account he gave me of his journey!

'Twould have made you die with laughter-such tales he told

Of his caprices and his merry freaks

Along the road-such oddity-such humor—

Such wit-such whim-such flashes of wild merriment

Set off too in such full relief by the grave

Demeanor of his friend-who, to speak the truth,

Was gravity itself—

Duke. Did I not tell you?

Cas. You did-and yet 'tis strange! but true as strange,

How much I was mistaken! I always thought

The Earl a gloomy man.

Duke. So, so, you see! Be not too positive. Whom have we here?

It can not be the Earl?

Cas. The Earl! Oh, no! 'Tis not the Earl-but yet it is-and leaning

Upon his friend Baldazzar. AM welcome, sir!

(Enter Politian and Baldazzar.)

My lord, a second welcome let me give you

To Rome-his Grace the Duke of Broglio.

Father! this is the Earl Politian, Earl

Of Leicester in Great Britain. [Politian bows haughtily.]

That, his friend

Baldazzar, Duke of Surrey. The Earl has letters,

So please you, for Your Grace.

Duke. Hal ha! Most welcome

To Rome and to our palace, Earl Politian!

And you, most noble Duke! I am glad to see you!

I knew your father well, my Lord Politian.

Castiglione! call your cousin hither,

And let me make the noble Earl acquainted

With your betrothed. You come, sir, at a time

Most seasonable. The wedding—

Politian. Touching those letters, sir,

Your son made mention of—your son, is he not?

Touching those letters, sir, I wot not of them.

If such there be, my friend Baldazzar here—

Baldazzar! ah!—my friend Baldazzar here

Will hand them to Your Grace. I would retire.

Duke. Retire!—So soon?

Came What ho! Benito! Rupert!

His lordship's chambers-show his lordship to them!

His lordship is unwell. (Enter Benito.)

Ben. This way, my lord! (Exit, followed by Politian.)

Duke. Retire! Unwell!

Bal. So please you, sir. I fear me

'Tis as you say—his lordship is unwell.

The damp air of

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