University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Hall in the Palace.
Enter Conrado and Barbara, meeting.
Barb.

Ha! Conrado; the very man I wished to meet. Butlers are then sometimes in the right place.

Con.

Who says I am ever in the wrong place?

Barb.

Nobody, that I know of.

Con.

I know of somebody that says so.

Barb.

Who?

Con.

Myself. For I say I am in the wrong place now. So, good-by, Mrs. Barbara.

Barb.

What now, Mr. Dignity? will you play off your royal airs upon me? Though you live in a palace, I know you. Come, answer me three plain questions; and quickly, I'm in haste. Has the Prince quarrelled with his father?—is Count Roger banished?—has Princess Matilda gone into a convent?

Con.

Princess Matilda gone into a convent!

Barb.

That you don't know; the rest you do.

Con.

I did not say that.

Barb.

No; but I say it.

Con.

Well, if the count is banished, I'm glad of it.

Barb.

I thought you would be.

Con.

Why so?

Barb.

Because you are one of those luckless men born with your heart on the right side instead of the left; so that it is glad and sorry in the wrong place. Give this paper to the prince.

Con.

What's in it?

Barb.

What's that to you? Are you inspector of petitions? 'Tis from my mistress, the lady Rosalie.

Con.

Papers often get those that handle them into trouble.

Barb.

I will ask you one question—

Con.

Mrs. Barbara, you ask too many questions. That is not the manners of us in the palace.

Barb.

No; the tongues of you in the palace move not to deliver outwardly words and thoughts; but to deliver inwardly meats and drinks. Conrado, do you hope to outlive the King?

Con.

The King is a score of years my elder, so there is no treason in thinking that I may.

Barb.

But it were treason to yourself to forfeit the good will of a king.

Con.

That it would be, and therefore—

Barb.

And therefore deliver this to the prince, who is prince now only to be king hereafter. Will you not learn, Conrado, that for us poor servants our best friends are the young. The young are generous: besides, they never forget a love-service. He who does it is laid away in their memories between two kisses, and that keeps him warm in their

regard for over.—But this time I shall not be beholden to you for helping me. Here is the prince himself. Enter Tancred.
May it please you, sir, I have a petition to your highness.

Tanc.

Good woman, I am in the mood to grant petitions, being myself most wretched. What a man-tamer is grief! Your kings are too happy. Their hearts should be steeped every night in private sorrow, that their eyes might distil in the day loving tears enough to drown their subjects' griefs. What is your prayer? [Opens the paper.]
Ha! away— they come. Hold! here is my purse.

[Retires to the back of the stage.
Barb.

You see it is good paper; I get gold for it. This way, Conrado; I have something secret to say to you.

Con.

No, no; I don't like secrets. Go your ways.

Barb.
[Aside.]

Have I lived forty years, and shall I not make a man follow me. [She holds up the purse at him. Conrado follows her.]
I know the men.

[Exeunt.
Tancred
[advancing].

What an eclipse is here! Her words are chilling clouds that overhang the light beneath, darkening what first shone out to dazzle and delight me—her precious name. She speaks of ranks and dignities! and bids me cast her from my thought. Bid the earth cast off the sun, dismiss his daily warmth, then blacken in the rayless air.—I must see her. But how? Roger will devise. Whatever can be done, he

will do best and quickest. But for my love for him, I should envy his unchained spirit, so self-less strong, so apt for others' wants. I will go seek him, and in his love and his wisdom find solace and direction.

[Exit.