 | Murtzoufle |  |
SCENE V.
Montmorency's Tent.(Montmorency walking slowly up and down; his page standing in the tent door and looking out.)
Page.
The green hair'd light that lin'd the fresh broad leaves,
And fill'd the wild bird's eye, is long since gone.—
Montm.
'Tis night then; what, boy, see'st thou in the night?
Page.
I hear no foot, my lord, but it shall come—
With happy tidings.
Montm.
Ay 'twill come.
Page.
I see a night too blessed for ill tidings.
Montm.
Thou art too young, else I could tell thee boy.—
List at the tent door,—I shall walk a little.
Page.
O 'tis a glorious night: a clew of winds
Has been unfurl'd from off the far Olympus.
Hither they come huddling the cloudy skies,
Ruffling them down on Asia's level lands:
The woods are shaken—a blue mingled mass
Of light and shade, and tall and pillar'd trees.
'Tis dark, now light again—
Montm.
Canst thou not liken these uncertain skies
To soldier's fortunes?
Page.
No, my Lord, I cannot.
Montm.
It might be done perhaps—keep to thy watch.
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For no;—the soldier's life,
Though brief, is bold and clear as the blue river,
That hastes away. When shall we o'er these lands,
My lord, to Palestine?
Montm.
Art thou too in the chase? ay, thou woulds't have—
Would'st thou, boy?—immortality?—well! on;
Fame for the noble!—to the worldly soul,
Vain as dim chase when hunter hears in dreams
Faint hallo o'er the hills.
Page.
Fame like thine own,
And I would die to-morrow,—hark! a foot!—
Enter Montferrat.
Montf.
O! I can hold no longer. I'm thy friend
And shall be spite of thee. I wrong'd thee much.
Philip hath reach'd us all; 'twas he that said it.
And much I fear his hand is now against thee.
Montm.
I know—I know it: Give me thy hand, Montferrat.
'Twas I that wrong'd a man of purest metal:—
I hold thee in my heart a noble man.
Myself I wrong'd too;—I have felt my loss
Even for a day to be estrang'd from thee.
Montf.
My lord, d'ye say it? I could strike myself,
Not having sought thee sooner. O! even now
What can I do? 'Twas mine to bring good news
To lay upon the altar of our peace.—
Indeed I cannot.
Montm.
Ha! speak out.
Montf.
Not so—all may be well,—I only know not.
Montm.
Montferrat, look,—it must be so, my friend,
Evil and worse!—I'm glad I have thy friendship;
And I would die for't. But—but, canst thou guess
What I would say?
Montf.
No—no; say nought, my friend.
Montm.
Well then, thy hand again, and here we'll stay
Till we hear something; for I dare not stir
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This day to me is lost:—pray what's astir?
O pardon me—the throne—must I console?
Montf.
Ay, or no.
I care not much: 'tis sure to Baldwin now,
Murtzoufle's ta'en, and shall be judg'd to-night.
Montm.
And sent to death if I know Baldwin rightly.
Not that he not deserves it, but that Flanders
Will make all sure. My Lord, I have a thought—
A fear—a hint.—Do you know Baldwin?
Montf.
Speak;
And take for granted that I know he hates thee.
Montm.
I'll visit him this moment;—when suspicion
Breathes, it shall be a tempest in my ear.
Montf.
Stay—stay my Lord;—I did not wish to speak
Of one successful where I fail'd, my rival,
Since I have much against him:—But in this
I will be bold to say he has no share:
He durst not go so far: In all his deeds
Virtue is never shock'd;—men count them fair,
All but who know him; such are never pleas'd;
They know not why, perhaps: Spirit is wanting,
Methinks, enthusiasm, that gives life
To virtuous deeds.
Montm.
Once I advised him on a delicate point,
And from that hour he lik'd me not I think;
Even though my counsel squar'd with his own mind.
His coldness chang'd to hatred when he knew
I woo'd the maid—that was Eudocia once—
O God! Sir, here I stand and have not heard—
Would she were dead!—What, should a face come in
This moment—stand before us and proclaim—
Montferrat, Montferrat, I have a dreadful fear.—
Where is thine ear? By Heaven, that face is thine.—
Thou knowst it all, and wilt not tell thy friend.
Why art thou pale?
Montf.
To see thy youth so mov'd.
I shall be back with news of weal or woe,
Or see thee never hence.
[Exit Montf.
69
I must go meet them: Have they found her out?
Follow me, boy; and run at every footfall.
[Exit Montm. and Page.
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