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 | The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes |  |
Scene I.
An apartment in Orlando's palace.Hesperus seated. Attendants. Enter to them Claudio.
Clau.
The bridegroom's here?
Attend.
Yonder he sits, my lord,
And since the morn's first hour, without the motion
Even of a nerve, as he were growing marble,
Has sat and watched: the sun blazed in at noon
With light enough to blind an eagle's ken;
He felt it not, although his eyeballs glared
Horribly bright: I spoke; he heard me not;
And, when I shook his arm, slept on in thought:
I pray you try him.
Clau.
Sir, good Hesperus,
I wait at your desire; we are to end
Our match at tennis. Will you walk with me?
Attend.
Your voice is weak as silence to his sense.
Enter Orlando.
Orl.
My brother, you must join us at the banquet;
We wait your coming long; how's this?
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My lord,
Like trance has held him since the dawn of day;
He has looked down upon yon wood since then,
Speechless and still.
Enter Lord Ernest.
L. Ern.
Now health and good be here,
For I have missed my son the livelong day.
Why, what an idle loiterer thou art;
By this, your vacant sight must ache with gazing
Upon that view. Arise; I'd have you with me,
To fix upon some posy for the ring
You wed your love with. Death! Some fearful change
Is here. Speak; speak and tell me if he lives.
Attend.
He does, my lord, if breathing is to live,
But in all else is like the coffined dead;
Motion and speech he lacks.
L. Ern.
O heavens! Orlando,
Tell me 'tis false.
Orl.
I would 'twere in my power,
But it doth seem too true.
L. Ern.
Ride like the wind,
Fetch him the aid of medicine. See you not
Some vision has come to him in the night,
And stolen his eyes and ears and tongue away?
Enter Olivia.
Fetch him the aid of medicine. See you not
Some vision has come to him in the night,
And stolen his eyes and ears and tongue away?
Oh, you are come in time to see him die;
Look, look, Olivia, look; he knows us not;
My son, if thou dost hear me, speak one word,
And I will bless thee.
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My son, if thou dost hear me, speak one word,
And I will bless thee.
Orl.
He is dumb indeed.
Oliv.
Let me come near him. Dearest Hesperus,
If thou behold'st these poor unbeauteous cheeks,
Which first thy flattering kindness taught to blush;
Or if thou hearest a voice, that's only sweet
When it says Hesperus; oh gentle love,
Speak any thing, even that thou hatest Olivia,
And I will thank thee for't: or, if some horror
Has frozen up the fountain of thy words,
Give but a sign.
Clau.
Lady, alas, 'tis vain.
Oliv.
(kneeling)
Nay, he shall speak, or I will never move,
But thus turn earth beseeching his dull hand,
And let the grass grow over me. I'll hold
A kind of converse with my raining eyes,
For if he sees not, nor doth hear, he'll know
The gentle feel of his Olivia's tears.
Clau.
Sweet sir, look on her.
Orl.
Brother!
Oliv.
Husband!
L. Ern.
Son!
Kind heaven, let him hear, though death should call him.
[Pause, a clock strikes.
Hesp.
The hour is come.
[Exit.
| The poems posthumous and collected of Thomas Lovell Beddoes | |