 | Griselda : A Tragedy : And other poems |  |
SCENE I.
Janicola's Cottage.Janicola is discovered lying on a pallet dead. Griselda enters, bearing a flask of wine, accompanied by Lenette, both in peasant clothes.
GRISELDA.
The wine will bring him strength; the good God thank them
Who gave so freely of their little store!
Father! look up!
LENETTE.
He is asleep, Madonna!
(stooping over him, and at last rising slowly).
Aye, a long sleep, Lenette, girl!—he is dead!
Oh, father, dost thou leave me all alone
In the wide, wild world? Would I were cold with thee,
For there is no one now,—not one weak help,
To stay the flood of grief, whose knocking waves
Will overflow my soul! Angels of God,
Bear him to blessed rest, and make me strong
For earth's unquiet remnant!
(While she mourns silently, enter Antonio, Pietro, and Bertram. Lenette motions them to be still.)
GRISELDA
(rising).
What would you, Sirs, with me?
PIETRO MALA.
We bear an unwelcome message; if we offend in
our coming we will await thy occasion.
I will hear what it shall please you.
PIETRO MALA.
Thou hast yonder other duties, Madam!
GRISELDA.
God hath acquitted me of them:—thou mayest
speak.
ANTONIO.
He is dead, good lady?
GRISELDA.
Aye, Sir!
BERTRAM.
Oh, signors, let us bear back our charge,—now
is no time to tell Lord Walter's will!
GRISELDA.
Bring ye aught from my Lord?
Yea, if thou wilt take it; if not, the fault of
silence shall be on us.
GRISELDA.
Now, and presently,
All times alike of mine are his; kind hearts,
Who keep unfashioned constancy, speak on;
I have some stock of sufferance.
ANTONIO.
He bids us deliver—that which spoken by
another should make matter for blood. Do thou
tell it, Pietro!
GRISELDA.
What is it stays you?
I am too low for scorn to lower me,
And all too sorrow-stricken to feel grief:
Why, say it then, Pietro!
There is coming from Bologna she who shall
be my lord's lady, and the trumpets' mouths are
to speak the greeting that none else will. Moreover,
the palace is to wear a new face, and there
is gold and velvets, and I know not what braveries,
for its bedecking.
GRISELDA.
My lord had ever a free hand.
PIETRO MALA.
In which matters he holdeth no wit rarer than
thine, and he bids thee betake thyself to his
house, and make ready the chambers to a queen's
liking.
GRISELDA.
Say that I will!
[Exeunt Antonio, &c.
He might have spared this last!
I know not that I can. Oh, false and cruel!
Were it not well to shame his marriage-show,
And let dumb patience cry?—
LENETTE.
Oh, well! most well!
GRISELDA.
To turn the new wife's laughter into tears
With the old one's story!—
LENETTE.
Oh, most well and just!
GRISELDA.
Aye, and to lay my hand upon her crown,
And break my oath, telling him he broke his!—
LENETTE.
Oh, do it!—others, Madam—
Why so, girl?
A hundred other tongues will help my tongue,
And back my sighs with swords.
LENETTE.
Oh, do so! do so!
GRISELDA.
Yet did he make one year of life all joy,
And what he took was his. I am not come
Of blood enough to mate him for his throne,
With hot mad words, and wrestle down his will!
Oh, but I think I love him even now
Too well to wish him speed,—and yet too well
Not to work all his will. Girl, I will go!
LENETTE.
Even as my lady please.
GRISELDA.
Thy lady, sooth!
Wedded a lord;—and I, I am a wench
With kitchen work to do, and a dead father
To put away into a peasant's grave.
Ah, thou didst die in time! Come, we'll away,
And end our mourning by this marriage-day!
| Griselda : A Tragedy : And other poems | |