University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

An apartment in Orlando's palace.
Enter Hesperus.
Hesp.
Oh thou sad self, thou wretched half of Hesperus,
Thou'rt lost indeed, there's nought of life about thee,
But the one thought, that thou hast saved a father.
Now I do think that if I meet a goodness
In woman's shape, a fair one I'd not ask,
But something that would soothe and comfort me,
I could almost love her.

Enter Orlando and Olivia.
Orl.
My brother Hesperus, our poor home is honoured
By thy loved father's presence and thine own.
Here is a living welcome, prithee know her;
Olivia.

Hesp.
Blessedness, you should have said.
A music waits upon her every step,
That my heart leaps to.

Oliv.
Courtly, sir, and kind.

Hesp.
And fond I would have made it. Oh fair lady,
A smile of thine will give me health again.

Orl.
Sister, thou needst no witness to these blushes.
School her, sir, in the arts of compliment,
You'll find her an apt learner.

[Exit.
Oliv.
Had I a right to pray to you, I would.

Hesp.
Pray, lady? Didst thou ever see the goddess
Step from her dignity of stone, or leave
The hallowed picture in its tinted stole,
And crouch unto her suppliant? Oh no;
If there is aught so poor a thing as I
Can please you with, command it and you bless me.

Oliv.
Try, I beseech thee, try not to detest,
Not utterly to detest a silly girl,
Whose only merit is that she'd be thine.

Hesp.
Hate thee, thou virtue?

Oliv.
Well, if it must be,
Play the deceiver for a little while;
Don't tell me so.

Hesp.
By Truth's white name I'll tell thee,
Olivia, there was once an idle thought
That aped affection in my heart; nay, nay,
Not in my heart; it was a dream or so;
A dream within a dream; a pale, dim warmth;
But thou hast dawned like summer on my soul,
Or like a new existence.

Oliv.
'Twere delightful,
If credible; but you are all too gallant.

Hesp.
I knew it must be so: you'll not believe me,
But doubt and say 'tis sudden. Do not minute
The movements of the soul, for some there are,
Of pinion unimpeded, thrice word-swift,
Outsoar the sluggish flesh; and these, Olivia,
Anticipating their death-given powers, can grasp
A century of feeling and of thought;
Outlive the old world's age, and be at once
In the present, past, and future; while the body
Lives half a pulse's stroke. To see and love thee
Was but one soul's step.

Oliv.
Then thou canst endure me;
Thou dost not hate the forward maid? My prayer
Through many a year has been for that one word;
And I have kept the precious thought of thee,
Hidden almost from myself. But I'll not speak,
For I have told too much, too childishly.

Hesp.
Dear, I could weep, but that my brain is dry,
To think upon thee. Me—'Twere well to court
The yellow pestilence, or woo the lightning
Unto thy bosom; but to hold me dear—
It is a crime of hell; forget you thought it.

Oliv.
'Tis sweeter than a virtue, I must love thee.

Hesp.
And love me truly?

Oliv.
Heaven grant me life
To prove it.

Hesp.
Then thou shalt be mine own; but not till death:
We'll let this life burn out, no matter how;
Though every sand be moistened with our tears,
And every day be rain-wet in our eyes;
Though thou shouldst wed some hateful avarice,
And I grow hoary with a daubed deceit,
A smiling treachery in woman's form,
Sad to the soul, heart-cankered and forlorn;
No matter, all no matter.
Though madness rule our thoughts, despair our hearts,
And misery live with us, and misery talk,
Our guest all day, our bed-fellow all night;
No matter, all no matter.
For when our souls are born then will we wed;
Our dust shall mix and grow into one stalk,
Our breaths shall make one perfume in one bud,
Our blushes meet each other in a rose,
Our sweeter voices swell some sky-bird's throat
With the same warbling, dwell in some soft pipe,
Or bubble up along some sainted spring's
Musical course, and in the mountain trees
Slumber our deeper tones, by tempests waked:
We will be music, spring, and all fair things,
The while our spirits make a sweeter union
Than melody and perfume in the air.
Wait then, if thou dost love me.

Oliv.
Be it so;
You'll let me pray for death, if it will bring
Such joys as these? Though once I thought to live
A happy bride; but I must learn new feelings.

Hesp.
New feelings! Aye to watch the lagging clock,
And bless each moment as it parts from thee,
To court the blighting grasp of tardy age,
And search thy forehead for a silver tress
As for a most prized jewel.

Oliv.
I cannot think
Of that cold bed diseases make for us,
That earthy sleep; oh! 'tis a dreadful thing.

Hesp.
The very air,
I thank it, (the same wild and busy air,
That numbers every syllable I speak,
In the same instant my lips shape its sound,
With the first lips of him, who died before
The world began its story;) steals away
A little from my being;
And at each slightest tremour of a leaf
My hearse moves one step nearer. Joy, my love!
We're nearer to our bridal sheets of lead
Than when your brother left us here just now,
By twenty minutes talk.

Oliv.
It is not good
Thus to spurn life, the precious gift of heaven,
And watch the coming light of dissolution
With such a desperate hope. Can we not love
In secret, and be happy in our thoughts,
Till in devotion's train, th' appointed hour
Lead us, with solemnly rejoicing hearts,
Unto our blessed end?

Hesp.
End! thou sayest.
And do those cherries ripen for the worms,
Those blue enchantments beam to light the tomb?
Was that articulate harmony, (Love uses
Because he seems both Love and Innocence
When he sings to it,) that summer of sweet breath,
Created but to perish and so make
The deads' home loveliest?

Oliv.
But what's to live without my Hesperus?
A life of dying. 'Tis to die each moment
In every several sense. To look despair,
Feel, taste, breathe, eat, be conscious of despair.
No, I'll be nothing rather.

Hesp.
Nothing but mine!
Thou flower of love, I'll wear thee in my bosom;
With thee the wrath of man will be no wrath,
Conscience and agony will smile like pleasure,
And sad remembrance lose its gloomy self
In rapturous expectation.

Oliv.
Let me look on thee;
Pray pardon me, mine eyes are very fools.

Hesp.
[Exit Olivia.

[Exit.