The Lady of Lyons [9]
And when night came, amidst the breathless Heavens We'd guess what star should be our home when love Becomes immortal; while the perfumed light Stole through the mists of alabaster lamps, And every air was heavy with the sighs Of orange-groves and music from sweet lutes, And murmurs of low fountains that gush forth I' the midst of roses!--Dost thou like the picture?
Pauline. Oh, as the bee upon the flower, I hang Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue! Am I not blest? And if I love too wildly, Who would not love thee like Pauline?
Mel. [bitterly.] Oh, false one! It is the prince thou lovest, not the man If in the stead of luxury, pomp, and power, I had painted poverty, and toil, and care, Thou hadst found no honey on my tongue;--Pauline, That is not love!
Pauline. Thou wrong'st me, cruel Prince! At first, in truth, I might not have been won, Save through the weakness of a flatter'd pride; But now,--oh! trust me,--couldst thou fall from power And sink--
Mel. As low as that poor gardener's son Who dared to lift his eyes to thee?--
Pauline. Even then, Methinks thou wouldst be only made more dear By the sweet thought that I could prove how deep Is woman's love! We are like the insects, caught By the poor glittering of a garish flame; But, oh, the wings once scorch'd, the brightest star Lures us no more; and by the fatal light We cling till death!
Mel. Angel! [Aside.] O conscience! conscience! It must not be; her love hath grown a torture Worse than her hate. I will at once to Beauseant, And--ha! he comes. Sweet love, one moment leave me. I have business with these gentlemen--I--I Will forwith join you.
Pauline. Do not tarry long! [Exit.
Enter BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.
Mel. Release me from my oath,--I will not marry her!
Beau Then thou art perjured.
Mel. No, I was not in my senses when I swore to thee to marry her! I was blind to all but her scorn!--deaf to all but my passion and my rage! Give me back my poverty and my honor!
Beau. It is too late,--you must marry her! and this day. I have a story already coined, and sure to pass current. This Damas suspects thee,--he will set the police to work!-- thou wilt be detected--Pauline will despise and execrate thee. Thou wilt be sent to the common gaol as a swindler.
Mel. Fiend!
Beau. And in the heat of the girl's resentment (you know of what resentment is capable) and the parents' shame, she will be induced to marry the first that offers--even perhaps your humble servant.
Mel. You! No; that were worse--for thou hast no mercy! I will marry her.--I will keep my oath. Quick, then, with the damnable invention thou art hatching;--quick, if thou wouldst not have me strangle thee or myself.
Gla. What a tiger! Too fierce for a prince; he ought to have been the Grand Turk.
Beau. Enough--I will dispatch; be prepared.
[Exeunt BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.
Enter DAMAS with two swords.
Damas. Now, then, sir, the ladies are no longer your excuse. I have brought you a couple of dictionaries; let us see if your highness can find out the Latin for bilbo.
Mel. Away, sir! I am in no humor for jesting. Damas. I see you understand something of the grammar; you decline the non-substantive "small-swords" with great ease; but that won't do--you must take a lesson in parsing.
Mel. Fool! Damas. Sir, as sons take after their mother, so the man who calls me a fool insults the lady who bore me; there's no escape for you--fight you shall, or--
Mel. Oh, enough! enough!--take your ground.
They fight; DAMAS is disarmed. MELNOTTE takes up the sword and returns it to DAMAS respectfully. A just punishment to the brave soldier who robs the state of its best property--the sole right to his valor and his life.
Damas. Sir, you fence exceedingly well; you must be a man of honor-- I don't care a jot whether you are a prince; but a man who has carte and tierce at his fingers' ends must be a gentleman.
Mel. [aside.] Gentleman! Ay, I was a gentleman before I turned conspirator; for honest men are the gentlemen of Nature! Colonel, they
Pauline. Oh, as the bee upon the flower, I hang Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue! Am I not blest? And if I love too wildly, Who would not love thee like Pauline?
Mel. [bitterly.] Oh, false one! It is the prince thou lovest, not the man If in the stead of luxury, pomp, and power, I had painted poverty, and toil, and care, Thou hadst found no honey on my tongue;--Pauline, That is not love!
Pauline. Thou wrong'st me, cruel Prince! At first, in truth, I might not have been won, Save through the weakness of a flatter'd pride; But now,--oh! trust me,--couldst thou fall from power And sink--
Mel. As low as that poor gardener's son Who dared to lift his eyes to thee?--
Pauline. Even then, Methinks thou wouldst be only made more dear By the sweet thought that I could prove how deep Is woman's love! We are like the insects, caught By the poor glittering of a garish flame; But, oh, the wings once scorch'd, the brightest star Lures us no more; and by the fatal light We cling till death!
Mel. Angel! [Aside.] O conscience! conscience! It must not be; her love hath grown a torture Worse than her hate. I will at once to Beauseant, And--ha! he comes. Sweet love, one moment leave me. I have business with these gentlemen--I--I Will forwith join you.
Pauline. Do not tarry long! [Exit.
Enter BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.
Mel. Release me from my oath,--I will not marry her!
Beau Then thou art perjured.
Mel. No, I was not in my senses when I swore to thee to marry her! I was blind to all but her scorn!--deaf to all but my passion and my rage! Give me back my poverty and my honor!
Beau. It is too late,--you must marry her! and this day. I have a story already coined, and sure to pass current. This Damas suspects thee,--he will set the police to work!-- thou wilt be detected--Pauline will despise and execrate thee. Thou wilt be sent to the common gaol as a swindler.
Mel. Fiend!
Beau. And in the heat of the girl's resentment (you know of what resentment is capable) and the parents' shame, she will be induced to marry the first that offers--even perhaps your humble servant.
Mel. You! No; that were worse--for thou hast no mercy! I will marry her.--I will keep my oath. Quick, then, with the damnable invention thou art hatching;--quick, if thou wouldst not have me strangle thee or myself.
Gla. What a tiger! Too fierce for a prince; he ought to have been the Grand Turk.
Beau. Enough--I will dispatch; be prepared.
[Exeunt BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.
Enter DAMAS with two swords.
Damas. Now, then, sir, the ladies are no longer your excuse. I have brought you a couple of dictionaries; let us see if your highness can find out the Latin for bilbo.
Mel. Away, sir! I am in no humor for jesting. Damas. I see you understand something of the grammar; you decline the non-substantive "small-swords" with great ease; but that won't do--you must take a lesson in parsing.
Mel. Fool! Damas. Sir, as sons take after their mother, so the man who calls me a fool insults the lady who bore me; there's no escape for you--fight you shall, or--
Mel. Oh, enough! enough!--take your ground.
They fight; DAMAS is disarmed. MELNOTTE takes up the sword and returns it to DAMAS respectfully. A just punishment to the brave soldier who robs the state of its best property--the sole right to his valor and his life.
Damas. Sir, you fence exceedingly well; you must be a man of honor-- I don't care a jot whether you are a prince; but a man who has carte and tierce at his fingers' ends must be a gentleman.
Mel. [aside.] Gentleman! Ay, I was a gentleman before I turned conspirator; for honest men are the gentlemen of Nature! Colonel, they