A HALL IN THE ROYAL PALACE.
* * * * *
SCENE I.
BASILIUS and CLOTALDO.
CLOTALDO. Everything has been effected
As you ordered.
BASILIUS. How all happened
Let me know, my good Clotaldo.
CLOTALDO. It was done, sire, in this manner.
With the tranquillising draught,
Which was made, as you commanded,
Of confections duly mixed
With some herbs, whose juice extracted
Has a strange tyrannic power,
Has some secret force imparted,
Which all human sense and speech
Robs, deprives, and counteracteth,
And as 'twere a living corpse
leaves the man whose lips have quaffed it
So asleep that all his senses,
All his powers are overmastered . . . .
-- No need have we to discuss
That this fact can really happen,
Since, my lord, experience gives us
Many a clear and proved example;
Certain 'tis that Nature's secrets
May by medicine be extracted,
And that not an animal,
Not a stone, or herb that's planted,
But some special quality
Doth possess: for if the malice
Of man's heart, a thousand poisons
That give death, hath power to examine,
Is it then so great a wonder
That, their venom being abstracted,
If, as death by some is given,
Sleep by others is imparted?
Putting, then, aside the doubt
That 'tis possible this should happen,
A thing proved beyond all question
Both by reason and example . . . .
-- With the sleeping draught, in fine,
Made of opium superadded
To the poppy and the henbane,
I to Sigismund's apartment --
Cell, in fact -- went down, and with him
Spoke awhile upon the grammar
Of the sciences, those first studies
Which mute Nature's gentle masters,
Silent skies and hills, had taught him;
In which school divine and ample,
The bird's song, the wild beast's roar,
Were a lesson and a language.
Then to raise his spirit more
To the high design you planned here,
I discoursed on, as my theme,
The swift flight, the stare undazzled
Of a pride-plumed eagle bold,
Which with back-averted talons,
Scorning the tame fields of air,
Seeks the sphere of fire, and passes
Through its flame a flash of feathers,
Or a comet's hair untangled.
I extolled its soaring flight,
Saying, "Thou at last art master
Of thy house, thou'rt king of birds,
It is right thou should'st surpass them."
He who needed nothing more
Than to touch upon the matter
Of high royalty, with a bearing
As became him, boldly answered;
For in truth his princely blood
Moves, excites, inflames his ardour
To attempt great things: he said,
"In the restless realm of atoms
Given to birds, that even one
Should swear fealty as a vassal!
I, reflecting upon this,
Am consoled by my disasters,
For, at least, if I obey,
I obey through force: untrammelled,
Free to act, I ne'er will own
Any man on earth my master."--
This, his usual theme of grief,
Having roused him nigh to madness,
I occasion took to proffer
The drugged draught: he drank, but hardly
Had the liquor from the vessel
Passed into his breast, when fastest
Sleep his senses seized, a sweat,
Cold as ice, the life-blood hardened
In his veins, his limbs grew stiff,
So that, knew I not 'twas acted,
Death was there, feigned death, his life
I could doubt not had departed.
Then those, to whose care you trust
This experiment, in a carriage
Brought him here, where all things fitting
The high majesty and the grandeur
Of his person are provided.
In the bed of your state chamber
They have placed him, where the stupor
Having spent its force and vanished,
They, as 'twere yourself, my lord,
Him will serve as you commanded:
And if my obedient service
Seems to merit some slight largess,
I would ask but this alone
(My presumption you will pardon),
That you tell me, with what object
Have you, in this secret manner,
To your palace brought him here?
BASILIUS. Good Clotaldo, what you ask me
Is so just, to you alone
I would give full satisfaction.
Sigismund, my son, the hard
Influence of his hostile planet
(As you know) doth threat a thousand
Dreadful tragedies and disasters;
I desire to test if Heaven
(An impossible thing to happen)
Could have lied -- if having given us
Proofs unnumbered, countless samples
Of his evil disposition,
He might prove more mild, more guarded
At the lest, and self-subdued
By his prudence and true valour
Change his character; for 'tis man
That alone controls the planets.
This it is I wish to test,
Having brought him to this palace,
Where he'll learn he is my son,
And display his natural talents.
If he nobly hath subdued him,
He will reign; but if his manners
Show him tyrannous and cruel,
Then his chains once more shall clasp him.
But for this experiment,
Now you probably will ask me
Of what moment was't to bring him
Thus asleep and in this manner?
And I wish to satisfy you,
Giving all your doubts an answer.
If to-day he learns that he
Is my son, and some hours after
Finds himself once more restored
To his misery and his shackles,
Certain 'tis that from his temper
Blank despair may end in madness --
But once knowing who he is,
Can he be consoled thereafter?
Yes, and thus I wish to leave
One door open, one free passage,
By declaring all he saw
Was a dream. With this advantage
We attain two ends. The first
Is to put beyond all cavil
His condition, for on waking
He will show his thoughts, his fancies:
To console him is the second;
Since, although obeyed and flattered,
He beholds himself awhile,
And then back in prison shackled
Finds him, he will think he dreamed.
And he rightly so may fancy,
For, Clotaldo, in this world
All who live but dream they act here.
CLOTALDO. Reasons fail me not to show
That the experiment may not answer;
But there is no remedy now,
For a sign from the apartment
Tells me that he hath awoken
And even hitherward advances.
BASILIUS. It is best that I retire;
But do you, so long his master,
Near him stand; the wild confusion
That his waking sense may darken
Dissipate by simple truth.
CLOTALDO. Then your licence you have granted
That I may declare it?
BASILIUS. Yes;
For it possibly may happen
That admonished of his danger
He may conquer his worst passions.
[Exit]
* * * * *
SCENE II.
CLARIN and CLOTALDO.
CLARIN [aside]. Four good blows are all it cost me
To come here, inflicted smartly
By a red-robed halberdier,
With a beard to match his jacket,
At that price I see the show,
For no window's half so handy
As that which, without entreating
Tickets of the ticket-master,
A man carried with himself;
Since for all the feasts and galas
Cool effrontery is the window
Whence at ease he gazes at them.
CLOTALDO [aside]. This is Clarin, heavens! of her,
Yes, I say, of her the valet,
She, who dealing in misfortunes,
Has my pain to Poland carried:--
Any news, friend Clarin?
CLARIN. News?
Yes, sir, since your great compassion
Is disposed Rosaura's outrage
To revenge, she has changed her habit,
And resumed her proper dress.
CLOTALDO. 'Tis quite right, lest possible scandal
Might arise.
CLARIN. More news: her name
Having changed and wisely bartered
For your niece's name, she now
So in honour has advanced her,
That among Estrella's ladies
She here with her in the palace
Lives.
CLOTALDO. 'Tis right that I once more
Should her honour re-establish.
CLARIN. News; that anxiously she waiteth
For that very thing to happen,
When you may have time to try it.
CLOTALDO. Most discreetly has she acted;
Soon the time will come, believe me,
Happily to end this matter.
CLARIN. News, too; that she's well regaled,
Feasted like a queen, and flattered
On the strength of being your niece.
And the last news, and the saddest,
Is that I who here came with her
Am with hunger almost famished.
None remember me, or think
I am Clarin, clarion rather,
And that if that clarion sounded,
All the Court would know what passes.
For there are two things, to wit,
A brass clarion and a lackey,
That are bad at keeping secrets;
And it so may chance, if haply
I am forced to break my silence,
They of me may sing this passage:
"Never, when the day is near,
Does clarion sound more clear."
CLOTALDO. Your complaint is too well-founded;
I will get you satisfaction,
Meanwhile you may wait on me.
CLARIN. See, sir, Sigismund advances.
* * * * *
SCENE III.
[Music and song.] SIGISMUND enters, lost in amazement. Servants
minister to him, presenting costly robes. --CLOTALDO, and CLARIN.
SIGISMUND. Help me, Heaven, what's this I see!
Help me, Heaven, what's this I view!
Things I scarce believe are true,
But, if true, which fright not me.
I in palaces of state?
I 'neath silks and cloth of gold?
I, around me, to behold
Rich-robed servants watch and wait?
I so soft a bed to press
While sweet sleep my senses bowed?
I to wake in such a crowd,
Who assist me even to dress?
'Twere deceit to say I dream,
Waking I recall my lot,
I am Sigismund, am I not?
Heaven make plain what dark doth seem!
Tell me, what has phantasy --
Wild, misleading, dream-adept --
So effected while I slept,
That I still the phantoms see?
But let that be as it may,
Why perplex myself and brood?
Better taste the present good,
Come what will some other day.
FIRST SERVANT [aside to the' Second Servant, and to CLARIN]. What a
sadness doth oppress him!
SECOND SERVANT. Who in such-like case would be
Less surprised and sad than he?
CLARIN. I for one.
SECOND SERVANT [to the First]. You had best address him.
FIRST SERVANT [to SIGISMUND]. May they sing again?
SIGISMUND. No, no;
I don't care to hear them sing.
SECOND SERVANT. I conceived the song might bring
To your thought some ease.
SIGISMUND. Not so;
Voiced that but charm the ear
Cannot soothe my sorrow's pain;
'Tis the soldier's martial strain
That alone I love to hear.
CLOTALDO. May your Highness, mighty Prince,
Deign to let me kiss your hand,
I would first of all this land
My profound respect evince.
SIGISMUND [aside]. 'Tis my gaoler! how can he
Change his harshness and neglect
To this language of respect?
What can have occurred to me?
CLOTALDO. The new state in which I find you
Must create a vague surprise,
Doubts unnumbered must arise
To bewilder and to blind you;
I would make your prospect fair,
Through the maze a path would show,
Thus, my lord, 'tis right you know
That you are the prince and heir
Of this Polish realm: if late
You lay hidden and concealed
'Twas that we were forced to yield
To the stern decrees of fate,
Which strange ills, I know not how,
Threatened on this land to bring
Should the laurel of a king
Ever crown thy princely brow.
Still relying on the power
Of your will the stars to bind,
For a man of resolute mind
Can them bind how dark they lower;
To this palace from your cell
In your life-long turret keep
They have borne you while dull sleep
Held your spirit in its spell.
Soon to see you and embrace
Comes the King, your father, here --
He will make the rest all clear.
SIGISMUND. Why, thou traitor vile and base,
What need I to know the rest,
Since it is enough to know
Who I am my power to show,
And the pride that fills my breast?
Why this treason brought to light
Has thou to thy country done,
As to hide from the King's son,
'Gainst all reason and all right,
This his rank?
CLOTALDO. Oh, destiny!
SIGISMUND. Thou the traitor's part has played
'Gainst the law; the King betrayed,
And done cruel wrong to me;
Thus for each distinct offence
Have the law, the King, and I
Thee condemned this day to die
By my hands.
SECOND SERVANT. Prince . . . .
SIGISMUND No pretence
Shall undo the debt I owe you.
Catiff, hence! By Heaven! I say,
If you dare to stop my way
From the window I will throw you.
SECOND SERVANT. Fly, Clotaldo!
CLOTALDO. Woe to thee,
In thy pride so powerful seeming,
Without knowing thou art dreaming!
[Exit.
SECOND SERVANT. Think . . . .
SIGISMUND. Away! don't trouble me.
SECOND SERVANT. He could not the King deny.
SIGISMUND. Bade to do a wrongful thing
He should have refused the King;
And, besides, his prince was I.
SECOND SERVANT. 'Twas not his affair to try
If the act was wrong or right.
SIGISMUND. You're indifferent, black or white,
Since so pertly you reply.
CLARIN. What the Prince says is quite true,
What you do is wrong, I say.
SECOND SERVANT. Who gave you this licence, pray?
CLARIN. No one gave; I took it.
SIGISMUND. Who
Art thou, speak?
CLARIN. A meddling fellow,
Prating, prying, fond of scrapes,
General of all jackanapes,
And most merry when most mellow.
SIGISMUND. You alone in this new sphere
Have amused me.
CLARIN. That's quite true, sir,
For I am the great amuser
Of all Sigismunds who are here.
* * * * *
SCENE IV.
ASTOLFO, SIGISMUND, CLARIN, Servants, and Musicians.
ASTOLFO. Thousand tunes be blest the day,
Prince, that gives thee to our sight,
Sun of Poland, whose glad light
Makes this whole horizon gay,
As when from the rosy fountains
Of the dawn the stream-rays run,
Since thou issuest like the sun
From the bosom of the mountains!
And though late do not defer
With thy sovran light to shine;
Round thy brow the laurel twine --
Deathless crown.
SIGISMUND. God guard thee, sir.
ASTOLFO. In not knowing me I o'erlook,
But alone for this defect,
This response that lacks respect,
And due honour. Muscovy's Duke
Am I, and your cousin born,
Thus my equal I regard thee.
SIGISMUND. Did there, when I said "God guard thee,"
Lie concealed some latent scorn? --
Then if so, now having got
Thy big name, and seeing thee vexed,
When thou com'st to see me next
I will say God guard thee not.
SECOND SERVANT [to ASTOLFO]. Think, your Highness, if he errs
Thus, his mountain birth's at fault,
Every word is an assault.
[To SIGISMUND.]
Duke Astolfo, sir, prefers . . . .
SIGISMUND. Tut! his talk became a bore,
Nay his act was worse than that,
He presumed to wear his hat.
SECOND SERVANT. As grandee.
SIGISMUND. But I am more.
SECOND SERVANT. Nevertheless respect should be
Much more marked betwixt ye two
Than 'twixt others.
SIGISMUND. And pray who
Asked your meddling thus with me?
* * * * *
SCENE V.
ESTRELLA. -- THE SAME.
ESTRELLA. Welcome may your Highness be,
Welcomed oft to this thy throne,
Which long longing for its own
Finds at length its joy in thee;
Where, in spite of bygone fears,
May your reign be great and bright,
And your life in its long flight
Count by ages, not by years.
SIGISMUND (to CLARIN). Tell me, thou, say, who can be
This supreme of loveliness --
Goddess in a woman's dress --
At whose feet divine we see
Heaven its choicest gifts doth lay?--
This sweet maid? Her name declare.
CLARIN. 'Tis your star-named cousin fair.
SIGISMUND. Nay, the sun, 'twere best to say.--
[To ESTRELLA.]
Though thy sweet felicitation
Adds new splendour to my throne,
'Tis for seeing thee alone
That I merit gratulation;
Therefore I a prize have drawn
That I scarce deserved to win,
And am doubly blessed therein:--
Star, that in the rosy dawn
Dimmest with transcendent ray
Orbs that brightest gem the blue,
What is left the sun to do,
When thou risest with the day?--
Give me then thy hand to kiss,
In whose cup of snowy whiteness
Drinks the day delicious brightness.
ESTRELLA. What a courtly speech is this?
ASTOLFO [aside]. If he takes her hand I feel
I am lost.
SECOND SERVANT [aside]. Astolfo's grief
I perceive, and bring relief:--
Think, my lord, excuse my zeal,
That perhaps this is too free,
Since Astolfo . . . .
SIGISMUND. Did I say
Woe to him that stops my way?--
SECOND SERVANT. What I said was just.
SIGISMUND. To me
This is tiresome and absurd.
Nought is just, or good or ill,
In my sight that balks my will.
SECOND SERVANT. Why, my lord, yourself I heard
Say in any righteous thing
It was proper to obey.
SIGISMUND. You must, too, have heard me say
Him I would from window throw
Who should tease me or defy?
SECOND SERVANT. Men like me perhaps might show
That could not be done, sir.
SIGISMUND. No?
Then, by Heaven, at least, I'll try!
[He seizes him in his arms and rushes to the side. All follow, and
return immediately.]
ASTOLFO. What is this I see? Oh, woe!
ESTRELLA. Oh, prevent him! Follow me!
[Exit.]
SIGISMUND. [returning]. From the window into the sea
He has fallen; I told him so.
ASTOLFO. These strange bursts of savage malice
You should regulate, if you can;
Wild beasts are to civilised man
As rude mountains to a palace.
SIGISMUND. Take a bit of advice for that:
Pause ere such bold words are said,
Lest you may not have a head
Upon which to hang your hat.
[Exit ASTOLFO.]
* * * * *
SCENE VI.
BASILIUS, SIGISMUND, and CLARIN.
BASILIUS. What's all this?
SIGISMUND. A trifling thing:
One who teased and thwarted me
I have just thrown into the sea.
CLARIN [to SIGISMUND]. Know, my lord, it is the King.
BASILIUS. Ere the first day's sun hath set,
Has thy coming cost a life?
SIGISMUND Why he dared me to the strife,
And I only won the bet.
BASILIUS. Prince, my grief, indeed is great,
Coming here when I had thought
That admonished thou wert taught
To o'ercome the stars and fate,
Still to see such rage abide
In the heart I hoped was free,
That thy first sad act should be
A most fearful homicide.
How could I, by love conducted,
Trust me to thine arms' embracing,
When their haughty interlacing,
Has already been instructed
How to kill? For who could see,
Say, some dagger bare and bloody,
By some wretch's heart made ruddy,
But would fear it? Who is he,
Who may happen to behold
On the ground the gory stain
Where another man was slain
But must shudder? The most bold
Yields at once to Nature's laws;
Thus I, seeing in your arms
The dread weapon that alarms,
And the stain, must fain withdraw;
And though in embraces dear
I would press you to my heart,
I without them must depart,
For, alas! your arms I fear.
SIGISMUND. Well, without them I must stay,
As I've staid for many a year,
For a father so severe,
Who could treat me in this way,
Whose unfeeling heart could tear me
From his side even when a child,
Who, a denizen of the wild,
As a monster there could rear me,
Any by many an artful plan
Sought my death, it cannot grieve me
Much his arms will not receive me
Who has scarcely left me man.
BASILIUS. Would to God it had not been
Act of mine that name conferred,
Then thy voice I ne'er had heard,
Then thy boldness ne'er had seen.
SIGISMUND. Did you manhood's right retain,
I would then have nought to say,
But to give and take away
Gives me reason to complain;
For although to give with grace
Is the noblest act 'mongst men,
To take back the gift again
Is the basest of the base.
BASILIUS. This then is thy grateful mood
For my changing thy sad lot
To a prince's!
SIGISMUND. And for what
Should I show my gratitude!
Tyrant of my will o'erthrown,
If thou hoary art and gray,
Dying, what do'st give me? Say,
Do'st thou give what's not mine own?
Thou'rt my father and my King,
Then the pomp these walls present
Comes to me by due descent
As a simple, natural thing.
Yes, this sunshine pleaseth me,
But 'tis not through thee I bask;
Nay, a reckoning I might ask
For the life, love, liberty
That through thee I've lost so long:
Thine 'tis rather to thank me,
That I do not claim from thee
Compensation for my wrong.
BASILIUS. Still untamed and uncontrolled;--
Heaven fulfils its word I feel,
I to that same court appeal
'Gainst thy taunts, thou vain and bold,
But although the truth thou'st heard,
And now know'st thy name and race,
And do'st see thee in this place,
Where to all thou art preferred,
Yet be warned, and on thee take
Ways more mild and more beseeming,
For perhaps thou art but dreaming,
When it seems that thou'rt awake.
[Exit.]
SIGISMUND. Is this, then, a phantom scene? --
Do I wake in seeming show?--
No, I dream not, since I know
What I am and what I've been.
And although thou should'st repent thee,
Remedy is now too late.
Who I am I know, and fate,
Howsoe'er thou should'st lament thee,
Cannot take from me my right
Of being born this kingdom's heir.
If I saw myself erewhile
Prisoned, bound, kept out of sight,
'Twas that never on my mind
Dawned the truth; but now I know
Who I am -- a mingled show
Of the man and beast combined.
* * * * *
SCENE VII.
ROSAURA, in female attire; SIGISMUND, CLARIN, and Servants.
ROSAURA [aside.] To wait upon Estrella I come here,
And lest I meet Astolfo tremble with much fear;
Clotaldo's wishes are
The Duke should know me not, and from afar
See me, if see he must.
My honour is at stake, he says; my trust
Is in Clotaldo's truth.
He will protect my honour and my youth.
CLARIN [to SIGISMUND]. Of all this palace here can boast,
All that you yet have seen, say which has pleased you most?
SIGISMUND. Nothing surprised me, nothing scared,
Because for everything I was prepared;
But if I felt for aught, or more or less
Of admiration, 'twas the loveliness
Of woman; I have read
Somewhere in books on which my spirit fed,
That which caused God the greatest care to plan,
Because in him a little world he formed, was man;
But this were truer said, unless I err,
Of woman, for a little heaven he made in her;
She who in beauty from her birth
Surpasses man as heaven surpasseth earth;
Nay, more, the one I see.
ROSAURA [aside]. The Prince is here; I must this instant flee.
SIGISMUND. Hear, woman! stay;
Nor wed the western with the orient ray,
Flying with rapid tread;
For joined the orient rose and western red,
The light and the cold gloom,
The day will sink untimely to its tomb.
But who is this I see?
ROSAURA [aside]. I doubt and yet believe that it is he.
SIGISMUND [aside]. This beauty I have seen
Some other time.
ROSAURA [aside]. This proud, majestic mien,
This form I once saw bound
Within a narrow cell.
SIGISMUND [aside]. My life I have found.--
Woman, the sweetest name
That man can breathe, or flattering language frame,
Who art thou? for before
I see thee, I believe and I adore;
Faith makes my love sublime,
Persuading me we've met some other time.
Fair woman, speak; my will must be obeyed.
ROSAURA. In bright Estrella's train a hapless maid.--
[Aside.] He must not know my name.
SIGISMUND. The sun, say rather, of that star whose flame,
However bright its blaze
Is but the pale reflection of thy rays.
In the fair land of flowers,
The realm of sweets that lies in odorous bowers,
The goddess rose I have seen
By right divine of beauty reign as queen.
I have seen where brightest shine
Gems, the assembled glories of the mine,
The brilliant throng elect the diamond king
For the superior splendour it doth fling.
Amid the halls of light,
Where the unresting star-crowds meet at night,
I have seen fair Hesper rise
And take the foremost place of all the skies.
And in that higher zone
Where the sun calls the planets round his throne,
I have seen, with sovereign sway,
That he presides the oracle of the day.
How, then, 'mid flowers of earth or stars of air,
'Mid stones or suns, if that which is most fair
The preference gains, canst thou
Before a lesser beauty bend and bow,
When thine own charms compose
Something more bright than sun, stone, star, or rose?
* * * * *
SCENE VIII.
CLOTALDO, who remains at the side-scene; SIGISMUND, CLARIN, and Servants.
CLOTALDO [aside]. To calm Prince Sigismund devolves on me,
Because 'twas I who reared him: -- What do I see?
ROSAURA. Thy favour, sir, I prize;
To thee the silence of my speech replies;
For when the reason's dull, the mind depressed,
He best doth speak who keeps his silence best.
SIGISMUND. You must not leave me. Stay:
What! would you rob my senses of the ray
Your beauteous presence gave?
ROSAURA. That licence, from your Highness, I must crave.
SIGISMUND. The violent efforts that you make
Show that you do not ask the leave you take.
ROSAURA. I hope to take it, if it is not given.
SIGISMUND. You rouse my courtesy to rage, by heaven!--
In me resistance, as it were, distils
A cruel poison that my patience kills.
ROSAURA. Then though that poison may be strong,
The source of fury, violence, and wrong,
Potent thy patience to subdue,
It dare not the respect to me that's due.
SIGISMUND. As if to show I may,
You take the terror of your charms away.
For I am but too prone
To attempt the impossible; I to-day have thrown
Out of this window one who said, like you,
I dare not do the thing I said I would do.
Now just to show I can,
I may throw out your honour, as the man.
CLOTALDO [aside]. More obstinate doth he grow;
What course to take, O heavens! I do not know,
When wild desire, nay, crime,
Perils my honour for the second time.
ROSAURA. Not vainly, as I see,
This hapless land was warned thy tyranny
In fearful scandals would eventuate,
In wrath and wrong, in treachery, rage and hate.
But who in truth could claim
Aught from a man who is but a man in name,
Audacious, cruel, cold,
Inhuman, proud, tyrannical and bold,
'Mong beasts a wild beast born?--
SIGISMUND. It was to save me from such words of scorn
So courteously I spoke,
Thinking to bind you by a gentler yoke;
But if I am in aught what you have said,
Then, as God lives, I will be all you dread.
Ho, there! here leave us. See to it at your cost,
The door be locked; let no one in.
[Exeunt CLARIN and the attendants.]
ROSAURA. I'm lost!
Consider . . . .
SIGISMUND. I'm a despot, and 'tis vain
You strive to move me, or my will restrain.
CLOTALDO [aside]. Oh, what a moment! what an agony!
I will go forth and stop him though I die.
[He advances.]
My lord, consider, stay . . . .
SIGISMUND. A second time you dare to cross my way.
Old dotard: do you hold
My rage in such slight awe you are so bold?
What brought you hither? Speak!
CLOTALDO. The accents of this voice, however weak,
To tell you to restrain
Your passions, if as King you wish to reign,--
Not to be cruel, though you deem
Yourself the lord of all, for all may be a dream.
SIGISMUND. You but provoke my rage
By these old saws, the unwelcome light of age,
In killing you, at least I'll see
If 'tis a dream or truth.
[As he is about to draw his dagger CLOTALDO detains it, and throws
himself on his knees.]
CLOTALDO. Sole hope for me
To save my life is thus to humbly kneel.
SIGISMUND. Take your audacious hand from off my steel.
CLOTALDO. Till some kind aid be sent,
Till some one come who may your rage prevent,
I will not loose my hold.
ROSAURA. Oh, Heaven!
SIGISMUND. I say,
Loose it, old dotard, grim and gaunt and gray,
Or by another death
[They struggle.]
I'll crush you in my arms while you have breath.
ROSAURA. Quick! quick! they slay
Clotaldo, help! oh, help!
[ASTOLFO enters at this moment, and CLOTALDO falls at his feet; he
stands between them.]
ASTOLFO. This strange affray,
What can it mean, magnanimous Prince? would you
So bright a blade imbrue
In blood that age already doth congeal?
Back to its sheath return the shining steel.
SIGISMUND. Yes, when it is bathed red
In his base blood.
ASTOLFO. This threatened life hath fled
For sanctuary to my feet;
I must protect it in that poor retreat.
SIGISMUND. Protect your own life, then, for in this way,
Striking at it, I will the grudge repay
I owe you for the past.
ASTOLFO. I thus defend
My life; but majesty will not offend.
[ASTOLFO draws his sword and they fight.]
CLOTALDO. Oh! wound him not, my lord.
* * * * *
SCENE IX.
BASILIUS, ESTRELLA and Attendants, SIGISMUND, ASTOLFO, and CLOTALDO.
BASILIUS. Swords flashing here!--
ESTRELLA [aside]. Astolfo is engaged: -- Oh, pain severe!
BASILIUS. What caused this quarrel? Speak, say why?
ASTOLFO. 'Tis nothing now, my lord, since thou art by.
SIGISMUND. 'Tis much, although thou now art by, my lord.
I wished to kill this old man with my sword.
BASILIUS. Did you not then respect
These snow-white hairs?
CLOTALDO. My lord will recollect
They scarce deserved it, being mine.
SIGISMUND. Who dares
To ask of me do I respect white hairs?
Your own some day
My feet may trample in the public way,
For I have not as yet revenged my wrong,
Your treatment so unjust and my sad state so long.
[Exit.]
BASILIUS. But ere that dawn doth break,
You must return to sleep, where when you wake
All that hath happened here will seem --
As is the glory of the world -- a dream.
[Exeunt The King, CLOTALDO, and Attendants.]
* * * * *
SCENE X.
ESTRELLA and ASTOLFO
ASTOLFO. Ah, how rarely fate doth lie
When it some misfortune threatens!
Dubious when 'tis good that's promised,
When 'tis evil, ah, too certain!--
What a good astrologer
Would he be, whose art foretelleth
Only cruel things; for, doubtless,
They would turn out true for ever!
This in Sigismund and me
Is exemplified, Estrella,
Since between our separate fortunes
Such a difference is presented.
In his case had been foreseen
Murders, miseries, and excesses,
And in all they turned out true,
Since all happened as expected.
But in mine, here seeing, lady,
Rays so rare and so resplendent
That the sun is but their shadow.
And even heaven a faint resemblance,
When fate promised me good fortune,
Trophies, praises, and all blessings,
It spoke ill and it spoke well;
For it was of both expressive,
When it held out hopes of favour,
But disdain alone effected.
ESTRELLA. Oh, I doubt not these fine speeches
Are quite true, although intended
Doubtless for that other lady,
She whose portrait was suspended
From your neck, when first, Astolfo,
At this Court here you addressed me.
This being so, 'tis she alone
Who these compliments deserveth.
Go and pay them to herself,
For like bills that are protested
In the counting-house of love,
Are those flatteries and finesses
Which to other kings and ladies
Have been previously presented.
* * * * *
SCENE XI.
ROSAURA, who remains at the side; ESTRELLA, and ASTOLFO.
ROSAURA [aside]. Well, thank God, my miseries
Have attained their lowest level,
Since by her who sees this sight
Nothing worse can be expected.
ASTOLFO. Then that portrait from my breast
Shall be taken, that thy perfect
Beauty there may reign instead.
For where bright Estrella enters
Shadow cannot be, or star
Where the sun; I go to fetch it.--
[Aside.] Pardon, beautiful Rosaura,
This offence; the absent never,
Man or woman, as this shows,
Faith of plighted vows remember.
[Exit.]
[ROSAURA comes forward.]
ROSAURA [aside]. Not a single word I heard,
Being afraid they might observe me.
ESTRELLA. Oh, Astrea!
ROSAURA. My good lady!
ESTRELLA. Nothing could have pleased me better
Than your timely coming here.
I have something confidential
To entrust you with.
ROSAURA. You honour
Far too much my humble service.
ESTRELLA. Brief as is the time, Astrea,
I have known you, you already
Of my heart possess the keys
'Tis for this and your own merits
That I venture to entrust you
With what oft I have attempted
From myself to hide.
ROSAURA. Your slave!
ESTRELLA. Then concisely to express it,
Know, Astolfo, my first cousin
('Tis enough that word to mention,
For some things may best be said
When not spoken but suggested),
Soon expects to wed with me,
If my fate so far relenteth,
As that by one single bliss
All past sorrows may be lessened.
I was troubled, the first day
That we met, to see suspended
From his neck a lady's portrait.
On the point I urged him gently,
He so courteous and polite
Went immediately to get it,
And will bring it here. From him
I should feel quite disconcerted
To receive it. You here stay,
And request him to present it
Unto you. I say no more.
You are beautiful and clever,
You must know too what is love.
[Exit.]
* * * * *
SCENE XII.
ROSAURA. Would I knew it not! O help me
Now, kind heaven! for who could be
So prudential, so collected,
As to know how best to act
In so painful a dilemma?
Is there in the world a being,
Is there one a more inclement
Heaven has marked with more misfortunes,
Has 'mid more of sorrow centred?--
What, bewildered, shall I do,
When 'tis vain to be expected
That my reason can console me,
Or consoling be my helper?
From my earliest misfortune
Everything that I've attempted
Has been but one misery more --
Each the other's sad successor,
All inheritors of themselves.
Thus, the Phoenix they resemble,
One is from the other born,
New life springs where old life endeth,
And the young are warmly cradled
By the ashes of the elder.
Once a wise man called them cowards,
Seeing that misfortunes never
Have been seen to come alone.
But I call them brave, intrepid,
Who go straight unto their end,
And ne'er turn their backs in terror:--
By the man who brings them with him
Everything may be attempted,
Since he need on no occasion
Have the fear of being deserted.
I may say so, since at all times,
Whatsoever life presented,
I, without them, never saw me,
Nor will they grow weary ever,
Till they see me in death's arms,
Wounded by fate's final weapon.
Woe is me! but what to-day
Shall I do in this emergence?--
If I tell my name, Clotaldo,
Unto whom I am indebted
For my very life and honour,
May be with me much offended;
Since he said my reparation
Must in silence be expected.
If I tell not to Astolfo
Who I am, and he detects me
How can I dissemble then?
For although a feigned resemblance
Eyes and voice and tongue might try,
Ah, the truthful heart would tremble,
And expose the lie. But wherefore
Study what to do? 'Tis certain
That however I may study,
Think beforehand how to nerve me,
When at last the occasion comes,
Then alone what grief suggesteth
I will do, for no one holds
In his power the heart's distresses.
And thus what to say or do
As my soul cannot determine,
Grief must only reach to-day
Its last limit, pain be ended,
And at last an exit make
From the doubts that so perplex me
How to act: but until then
Help me, heaven, oh, deign to help me!
* * * * *
SCENE XIII.
ASTOLFO, with the portrait; and ROSAURA.
ASTOLFO. Here then is the portrait, Princess:
But, good God!
ROSAURA. Your Highness trembles;
What has startled, what surprised you?
ASTOLFO. Thee, Rosaura, to see present.
ROSAURA. I Rosaura? Oh, your Highness
Is deceived by some resemblance
Doubtless to some other lady;
I'm Astrea, one who merits
Not the glory of producing
An emotion so excessive.
ASTOLFO. Ah, Rosaura thou mayst feign,
But the soul bears no deception,
And though seeing thee as Astrea,
As Rosaura it must serve thee.
ROSAURA. I, not knowing what your Highness
Speaks of, am of course prevented
From replying aught but this,
That Estrella (the bright Hesper
Of this sphere) was pleased to order
That I here should wait expectant
For that portrait, which to me
She desires you give at present:
For some reason she prefers
It through me should be presented --
So Estrella -- say, my star --
Wishes -- so a fate relentless
Wills -- in things that bring me loss --
So Estrella now expecteth.
ASTOLFO. Though such efforts you attempt,
Still how badly you dissemble,
My Rosaura! Tell the eyes
In their music to keep better
Concert with the voice, because
Any instrument whatever
Would be out of tune that sought
To combine and blend together
The true feelings of the heart
With the false words speech expresses.
ROSAURA. I wait only, as I said,
For the portrait.
ASTOLFO. Since you're bent then
To the end to keep this tone,
I adopt it, and dissemble.
Tell the Princess, then, Astrea,
That I so esteem her message,
That to send to her a copy
Seems to me so slight a present,
How so highly it is valued
By myself, I think it better
To present the original,
And you easily may present it,
Since, in point of fact, you bring it
With you in your own sweet person.
ROSAURA. When it has been undertaken
By a man, bold, brave, determined,
To obtain a certain object,
Though he get perhaps a better,
Still not bringing back the first
He returns despised: I beg, then.
That your highness give the portrait;
I, without it, dare not venture.
ASTOLFO. How, then, if I do not give it
Will you get it?
ROSAURA. I will get it
Thus, ungrateful.
[She attempts to snatch it.]
ASTOLFO. 'Tis in vain.
ROSAURA. It must ne'er be seen, no, never
In another woman's hands.
ASTOLFO. Thou art dreadful.
ROSAURA. Thou deceptive.
ASTOLFO. Oh, enough, Rosaura mine.
ROSAURA. Thine! Thou liest, base deserter.
[Both struggle for the portrait.]
* * * * *
SCENE XIV.
ESTRELLA, ROSAURA, and ASTOLFO.
ESTRELLA. Prince! Astrea! What is this?
ASTOLFO [aside] Heavens! Estrella!
ROSAURA [aside]. Love befriend me;
Give me wit enough my portrait
To regain: -- If thou would'st learn then
[To ESTRELLA.]
What the matter is, my lady,
I will tell thee.
ASTOLFO [aside to ROSAURA.] Would'st o'erwhelm me?
ROSAURA. You commanded me to wait here
For the Prince, and representing
You, to get from him a portrait.
I remained alone, expecting,
And, as often by one thought
Is some other thought suggested,
Seeing that you spoke of portraits,
I, reminded thus, remembered
That I had one of myself
In my sleeve: I wished to inspect it,
For a person quite alone
Even by trifles is diverted.
From my hand I let it fall
On the ground; the Prince, who entered
With the other lady's portrait,
Raised up mine, but so rebellious
Was he to what you had asked him
That, instead of his presenting
One, he wished to keep the other.
Since he mine will not surrender
To my prayers and my entreaties:
Angry at this ill-timed jesting
I endeavoured to regain it,
That which in his hand is held there
Is my portrait, if you see it;
You can judge of the resemblance.
ESTRELLA. Duke, at once, give up the portrait.
[She takes it from his hand.]
ASTOLFO. Princess . . . .
ESTRELLA. Well, the tints were blended
By no cruel hand, methinks.
ROSAURA. Is it like me?
ESTRELLA. Like! 'Tis perfect.
ROSAURA. Now demand from him the other.
ESTRELLA. Take your own, and leave our presence.
ROSAURA [aside]. I have got my portrait back;
Come what may I am contented.
[Exit.]
* * * * *
SCENE XV.
ESTRELLA and ASTOLFO.
ESTRELLA. Give me now the other portrait;
For -- although perhaps I never
May again address or see you --
I desire not, no, to let it
In your hands remain, if only
For my folly in requesting
You to give it.
ASTOLFO [aside]. How escape
From this singular dilemma?--
Though I wish, most beauteous Princess,
To obey thee and to serve thee,
Still I cannot give the portrait
Thou dost ask for, since . . . .
ESTRELLA. A wretched
And false-hearted lover art thou.
Now I wish it not presented,
So to give thee no pretext
For reminding me that ever
I had asked it at thy hands.
[Exit.
ASTOLFO. Hear me! listen! wait! I remember! --
God, what has thou done, Rosaura?
Why, or wherefore, on what errand,
To destroy thyself and me
Hast thou Poland rashly entered?
[Exit.
* * * * *
SCENE XVI.
PRISON OF THE PRINCE IN THE TOWER.
SIGISMUND, as at the commencement, clothed in skins, chained, and
lying on the ground; CLOTALDO, Two Servants, and CLARIN.
CLOTALDO. Leave him here on the ground,
Where his day,-- its pride being o'er,--
Finds its end too.
A SERVANT. As before
With the chain his feet are bound.
CLARIN. Never from that sleep profound
Wake, O Sigismund, or rise,
To behold with wondering eyes
All thy glorious life o'erthrown,
Like a shadow that hath flown,
Like a bright brief flame that dies!
CLOTALDO. One who can so wisely make
Such reflections on this case
Should have ample time and space,
Even for the Solon's sake,
[To the Servant.]
To discuss it; him you'll take
To this cell here, and keep bound.
[Pointing to an adjoining room]
CLARIN. But why me?
CLOTALDO. Because 'tis found
Safe, when clarions secrets know,
Clarions to lock up, that so
They may not have power to sound.
CLARIN. Did I, since you treat me thus,
Try to kill my father? No.
Did I from the window throw
That unlucky Icarus?
Is my drink somniferous?
Do I dream? Then why be pent?
CLOTALDO. 'Tis a clarion's punishment.
CLARIN. Then a horn of low degree,
Yea, a cornet I will be,
A safe, silent instrument.
[They take him away, and CLOTALDO remains alone.]
* * * * *
SCENE XVII.
BASILIUS, disguised; CLOTALDO, and SIGISMUND, asleep.
BASILIUS. Hark, Clotaldo!
CLOTALDO. My lord here?
Thus disguised, your majesty?
BASILIUS. Foolish curiosity
Leads me in this lowly gear
To find out, ah, me! with fear,
How the sudden change he bore.
CLOTALDO. There behold him as before
In his miserable state.
BASILIUS. Wretched Prince! unhappy fate!
Birth by baneful stars watched o'er!--
Go and wake him cautiously,
Now that strength and force lie chained
By the opiate he hath drained.
CLOTALDO. Muttering something restlessly,
See he lies.
BASILIUS. Let's listen; he
May some few clear words repeat.
SIGISMUND. [Speaking in his sleep.]
Perfect Prince is he whose heat
Smites the tyrant where he stands,
Yes, Clotaldo dies by my hands,
Yes, my sire shall kiss my feet.
CLOTALDO. Death he threatens in his rage.
BASILIUS. Outrage vile he doth intend.
CLOTALDO. He my life has sworn to end.
BASILIUS. He has vowed to insult my age.
SIGISMUND [still sleeping]. On the mighty world's great stage,
'Mid the admiring nations' cheer,
Valour mine, that has no peer,
Enter thou: the slave so shunned
Now shall reign Prince Sigismund,
And his sire he wrath shall fear.--
[He awakes.]
But, ah me! Where am I? Oh!--
BASILIUS. Me I must not let him see.
[To CLOTALDO.]
Listening I close by will be,
What you have to do you know.
[He retires.]
SIGISMUND. Can it possibly be so?
Is the truth not what it seemed?
Am I chained and unredeemed?
Art not thou my lifelong tome,
Dark old tower? Yes! What a doom!
God! what wondrous things I've dreamed!
CLOTALDO. Now in this delusive play
Must my special part be taken:--
Is it not full time to waken?
SIGISMUND. Yes, to waken well it may.
CLOTALDO. Wilt thou sleep the livelong day?--
Since we gazing from below
Saw the eagle sailing slow,
Soaring through the azure sphere,
All the time thou waited here,
Didst thou never waken?
SIGISMUND. No,
Nor even now am I awake
Since such thoughts my memory fill,
That it seems I'm dreaming still:
Nor is this a great mistake;
Since if dreams could phantoms make
Things of actual substance seen,
I things seen may phantoms deem.
Thus a double harvest reaping,
I can see when I am sleeping,
And when waking I can dream.
CLOTALDO. What you may have dreamed of, say.
SIGISMUND. If I thought it only seemed,
I would tell not what I dreamed,
But what I beheld, I may.
I awoke, and lo! I lay
(Cruel and delusive thing!)
In a bed whose covering,
Bright with blooms from rosy bowers,
Seemed a tapestry of flowers
Woven by the hand of Spring.
Then a crowd of nobles came,
Who addressed me by the name
Of their prince, presenting me
Gems and robes, on bended knee.
Calm soon left me, and my frame
Thrilled with joy to hear thee tell
Of the fate that me befell,
For though now in this dark den,
I was Prince of Poland then.
CLOTALDO. Doubtless you repaid me well?
SIGISMUND. No, not well: for, calling thee
Traitor vile, in furious strife
Twice I strove to take thy life.
CLOTALDO. But why all this rage 'gainst me?
SIGISMUND. I was master, and would be
Well revenged on foe and friend.
Love one woman could defend . . . . .
That, at least, for truth I deem,
All else ended like a dream,
THAT alone can never end.
[The King withdraws.]
CLOTALDO [aside]. From his place the King hath gone,
Touched by his pathetic words:--
[Aloud]
Speaking of the king of birds
Soaring to ascend his throne,
Thou didst fancy one thine own;
But in dreams, however bright,
Thou shouldst still have kept in sight
How for years I tended thee,
For 'twere well, whoe'er we be,
Even in dreams to do what's right.
[Exit.]
* * * * *
SCENE XVIII.
SIGISMUND. That is true: then let's restrain
This wild rage, this fierce condition
Of the mind, this proud ambition,
Should we ever dream again:
And we'll do so, since 'tis plain,
In this world's uncertain gleam,
That to live is but to dream:
Man dreams what he is, and wakes
Only when upon him breaks
Death's mysterious morning beam.
The king dreams he is a king,
And in this delusive way
Lives and rules with sovereign sway;
All the cheers that round him ring,
Born of air, on air take wing.
And in ashes (mournful fate!)
Death dissolves his pride and state:
Who would wish a crown to take,
Seeing that he must awake
In the dream beyond death's gate?
And the rich man dreams of gold,
Gilding cares it scarce conceals,
And the poor man dreams he feels
Want and misery and cold.
Dreams he too who rank would hold,
Dreams who bears toil's rough-ribbed hands,
Dreams who wrong for wrong demands,
And in fine, throughout the earth,
All men dream, whate'er their birth,
And yet no one understands.
'Tis a dream that I in sadness
Here am bound, the scorn of fate;
'Twas a dream that once a state
I enjoyed of light and gladness.
What is life? 'Tis but a madness.
What is life? A thing that seems,
A mirage that falsely gleams,
Phantom joy, delusive rest,
Since is life a dream at best,
And even dreams themselves are dreams.
