University of Virginia Library

SCENE IX.

An apartment in the house of Montebesa.
Samar is discovered playing on the floor with toys, and Sabaw atté sitting by him.
Samar
(holding up a toy).
This is the prettiest plaything of them all:
I will not use it till my mother come,
That she may see it fresh and beautiful.

Sab.
Alas, sweet Samar! would that she were here!

Samar.
Will she not soon? how long she stays away!
And she has been so kind to me of late.

Sab.
Was she not always kind?

Samar.
Yes, always very kind; but since my father
Has thought of that new bride—I hate that bride—
And spoken to me seldom and with looks
Not like his wonted looks, she has been kinder;
Has kiss'd me oftener, and has held me closer
To her soft bosom. O she loves me dearly!
And dearly I love her!—Where is she now,
That thou shouldst say, “I would that she were here!”

Sab.
Dear boy; I may not tell thee.

Samar.
May not tell me!
Then she is in some sad and hateful place,
And I will go to her.

Sab.
Ah no! thou canst not.

Samar.
I will; what shall withhold me, Sabawatté?

Sab.
Strong bolts and bars, dear child!

Samar.
Is she in prison?

Sab.
She is.

Samar.
And who hath dared to put her there?

Sab.
Thy father.

Samar.
Then he is a wicked man,
Most cruel and most wicked.
I'll stay no longer here; I'll go to her;
And if through bolts and bars I may not pass,
I at her door will live, as my poor dog
Close by my threshold lies and pines and moans,
When he's shut out from me.—I needs must go;
Rooms are too good for me when she's in prison.
Come, lead me to the place; I charge thee, do;
I'll stay no longer here.

Enter Montebesa, and he runs to her, clasping her knees, and bursting into tears.
Mont.
What is the matter with thee, my dear child?
(To Sabawatté.)
Does he know aught?

Sab.
I could not keep it from him.

Samar.
I know it all; I know it all, good granddame.
O take me to her! take me to her prison!
I'll be with her; I'll be and bide with her;
No other place shall hold me.

Mont.
Be pacified, dear child! be pacified,
And I myself will take thee to thy mother:
The guards will not refuse to let me pass.
Weep not so bitterly, my own dear Samar!
Fy! wipe away those tears and come with me.

Sab.
A blessing on you, madam, for this goodness!
It had been cruelty to keep him here.

[Exeunt.