University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—The Interior of the Ducal Palace.
Beltran and Frankendall.
Beltran
(comes forward.)
Now would'st thou hug me, Machiavel, beholding
How like a reckless reveller I look,
And cloak designs that yet may shake a state,
Beneath such guise as this. I am a reveller!
Shall I not laugh and quaff, as others do;
And sit beneath the shadow of my hopes,
Just budding into blossom? Shine on, Sun
Of Fortune; and no votary of thine
Shall more exult than I, to worship thee,
Or make thee more a goddess!
Frankendall,
Is it not time to go? Methinks the guests
Should, by the noise, be thronging to the palace.

FRANKENDALL.
My lord, the hubbub would declare as much.

BELTRAN
(walks to the window.)
The windows are all light; unnumber'd feet
Follow the flitting torches, as they gleam
Perpetual through the marble courts; loud voices
Of menials, haughtier than their haughty masters,
Mix with the bursts of music that peal forth
Whene'er a portal's oped; then both, anon,
Are drown'd amid the clash of prancing hoofs,
Indignant of the rein. Plume follows plume;
And escort follows escort. 'Tis a scene
Where many a heart beats high. But could they view
The inmost breasts of all this splendid throng;
The envies darker than the night; the discords
Waving their torches in conflicting rage;
The bitter griefs that yearn for solitude;
The hopes struck down; the gnashings of despair;
The treacheries; the jealousies; the fears;
'Twould make the rout that clamours here below
Seem peaceful as the barefoot hermit's haunt,
Compared with such a hell.
You are come at last.

Enter Pablo and Jacomo.
Is it not time we enter'd to the palace?

JACOMO.
The throng is at the height, my lord.

BELTRAN.
'Tis well;
I shall attend you instantly.—Hark, Frankendall;
One word before we go.
(Aside to Frankendall.)
I need not tell thee,
Suspicion is let loose; and 'tis my cue
To lead it where I would, but unobserved.
Hark thee, I have laid a train.
In this hot clime
Of Italy, thou know'st they are well skill'd,
(And crossing passions give them scope enough,)
In all the changes of love's minstrelsy.
Through the voluptuous wires of the guitar
They'll breathe a gale, more amorous and warm
Than those from whence th'immortal coursers sprung;
Ay, or more wing'd with jealousy than those
So fateful to th'Æolian shepherd swain,
Who woo'd with languid sighs th'inconstant air.
Now mark me, for there will be masks to-night;
Observe, and thou shalt see a stripling lad,
In the wild vestments of a Troubadour.
He must be brought—as well may come to pass—
To give some relish of his art. Eye well
Ignatio, when he sings; and if thou see'st,
Or any sign of dread, or of suspense,
Or notest confusion struggle in his cheek,
Cow'r in his eye, or falter on his tongue,
I say, improve the time; let it not 'scape
Devoid of observation, whence the most
I wish it were observed. Forget not this,
If thou would'st keep my favour and my love.
Now follow me. I know thou likest it not;
Nor do I say thou should'st. Had I but known
Two moons ere this, half of what now I know,
It had not been—no matter—What's to be,
Shall be. I tell thee, who, as we must, drinks
At troubled fountains, even perforce must take
The water with the sand.

FRANKENDALL.
My lord, I know
This is no time to argue; and my logic
Was ever lame. For you I would do much,
And this amongst the rest, come on't what will.

BELTRAN.
Fear not; I am resolved.
(Aloud.)
Come, gentlemen.

PABLO.
We wait your highness' pleasure.

BELTRAN.
Follow, then.
Hark you; is't not begun?

[A sound of Music
PABLO.
It is, my lord.

[Exeunt.