 | Francis the First |  |
SCENE VII.
—A GALLERY IN THE PALACE.Enter Triboulet, followed by Françoise de Foix.
FRANÇOISE.
Hold, hold! I do beseech thee, ere my brain
Whirl with this agony;—show me the letter.
TRIBOULET.
Nay, but you did refuse it some time gone;
I'll to the King, and give it back again.
FRANÇOISE.
Perchance 'tis of my brother!—oh! for mercy,
Give it me now; I do repent me—give it!
TRIBOULET.
Give it?—no, take it; give it back again!
Which way doth the wind blow?
FRANÇOISE.
I shall go mad
With this most dread suspense! Oh! if that letter
Tell of my brother's fate, as chance it doth!
Give it me once again or ere I die!
TRIBOULET.
Listen: I'll read it thee.
FRANÇOISE.
Oh! no, no, no!
(Aside)
—For if the King doth plead his love in it—
No, tear, but do not open it, good fool!
TRIBOULET.
I cannot read unless I open it. Listen:
(reads)
‘If thou do not follow his footsteps, who shall bring thee
‘this, not only shall thy brother's liberty, but e'en his life’—
Oh gracious heav'n! it is impossible!
His life! his precious days! Give me that scroll.
(She reads, and faints.)
TRIBOULET.
Let me spell o'er this letter; for the lady, she'll be the
better for a little rest.
(Reads.)
—‘If thou do not follow
his footsteps, who shall bring thee this.’—Marry, that
means my footsteps; and whither tend my footsteps?—
Even to the King's chamber. What, shall her brother
die, unless she meet the King alone at this dead hour of
night? I would I had lost the letter! my back and the
whip had been acquainted of a surety; but that were
better than—poor maiden! By my wisdom, then, I will
not lead her to the King! I'll run away, and then, if I
be questioned, I can swear she fell into a swoon by the
way, and could not come!
(Going, Françoise revives.)
FRANÇOISE.
Oh, no—not death! mercy! oh, mercy! spare him!
Where am I! have I slept!—oh, heav'n be praised,
Here's one will be my guide! Good Triboulet,
If thou have aught of reason, lend it me.
TRIBOULET.
Alack! poor thing, how wide she talks!—she's come
To borrow wisdom of a fool! Poor lady!
FRANÇOISE.
Nay, gaze not on me, for dear charity!
But lead, and I will follow to the King,—
Fall on my knees—once more implore his mercy!—
I do beseech thee—Life is on our haste!
How say you, pretty lady—life, and no more?
FRANÇOISE.
Oh! I shall go distraught with this delay.
See, to thine eyes I will address my speech,—
For what thou look'st on that thou understand'st.
TRIBOULET.
Ay, marry, and more, as I think, than either of us look
on, do I understand.
FRANÇOISE.
These jewels are of a surpassing value,—
Take them, and lead me to the king.
TRIBOULET.
What, at this hour?
FRANÇOISE.
If not, my brother dies.
TRIBOULET.
Alone?
FRANÇOISE.
The night grows pale, and the stars seem
To melt away, before the burning breath
Of fiery morn. If thou art born of woman,—
If thou hast but one drop of natural blood
That folly hath not frozen,—I beseech thee
Lead to the king, whiles I have strength to follow!
TRIBOULET.
Then heaven be with thee, lady! for I can no more.
Follow! and may I in this hour have been a greater fool
than ere I was before.
[Exeunt.
| Francis the First | |