University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

—The Duke's Palace.
Enter Balthazar and his Daughter, the Count and Volante, followed by a Servant.
Balthazar.
You'll tell his highness, I am waiting for him.

Servant.
What name, sir?

Balthazar.
No matter, tell him an old man,
Who has been basely plunder'd of his child,
And has perform'd a weary pilgrimage
In search of justice, hopes to find it here.

Servant.
I will deliver this.
[Exit Servant.

Balthazar.
And he shall right me;
Or I will make his dukedom ring so loud
With my great wrongs, that—

Juliana.
Pray be patient, sir.

Balthazar.
Where is your husband?

Juliana.
He will come, no doubt.

Count.
I'll pawn my life for his appearance, quickly!

Enter Servant.
Balthazar.
What news, sir?

Servant.
The Duke will see you presently.

Balthazar.
'T is well!
Has there been here a man to seek him lately?

Servant.
None, sir.

Balthazar.
A tall well-looking man enough,
Tho' a rank knave, dress'd in a peasant's garb?

Servant.
There has been no such person.

Balthazar.
No, nor will be!
It was a trick to steal off safely,
And get the start of justice. He has reach'd,
Ere this, the nearest seaport, or inhabits
One of his air-built castles.

Servant.
Stand aside!

The Duke enters, superbly dressed, with Jaquez and a train of Attendants.
Duke.
Now, sir, your business with me?

Balthazar.
How?

Juliana.
Amazement!

Duke.
I hear you would have audience?

Jaquez.
Exactly my manner!

Balthazar.
Of the Duke, sir.

Duke.
I am the Duke.

Balthazar.
The jest is somewhat stale!

Duke.
You'll find it true.

Balthazar.
Indeed!

Jaquez.
Nobody doubted my authority.

Juliana.
Be still, my heart! (Aside.)


Balthazar.
I think you would not trifle with me now?—

Duke.
I am the Duke Aranza.—

Count.
'T is e'en so. (To Balthazar.)


Duke.
And, what 's my greater pride, this lady's husband;
Whom, having honestly redeem'd my pledge,
I thus take back again. You now must see
The drift of what I have been lately acting,
And what I am. And though, being a woman
Giddy with youth and unrestrained fancy,
The domineering spirit of her sex
I have rebuk'd too sharply; yet 't was done,
As skilful surgeons cut beyond the wound,
To make the cure complete.

Balthazar.
You have done most wisely,
And all my anger dies in speechless wonder.

Jaquez.
So does all my greatness!

Duke.
What says my Juliana?

Juliana.
I am lost, too,
In admiration, sir: my fearful thoughts
Rise on a trembling wing to that rash height,
Whence, growing dizzy once, I fell to earth.
Yet since your goodness, for the second time,
Will lift me, tho' unworthy, to that pitch
Of greatness, there to hold a constant flight,
I will endeavour so to bear myself,
That in the world's eye, and my friends' observance—
And, what's far dearer, your most precious judgment—
I may not shame your dukedom.

Duke.
Bravely spoken!
Why, now you shall have rank and equipage—
Servants, for you can now command yourself—
Glorious apparel, not to swell your pride,
But to give lustre to your modesty.
All pleasures, all delights, that noble dames
Warm their chaste fancies with, in full abundance
Shall flow upon you; and it shall go hard
But you shall ride the Barbary courser too.—
Count, you have kept my secret, and I thank you.

Count.
Your grace has reason; for in keeping that
I well nigh lost my mistress. On your promise
I now may claim her, sir. (To Balthazar.)


Balthazar.
What says my girl?

Volante.
Well, since my time is come, sir—

Balthazar.
Take her then. (Joins their hands.)


Duke.
But who comes yonder?

Count.
'Sdeath! why, 't is Rolando.

Duke.
But that there hangs a woman on his arm,
I'd swear 't was he!

Volante.
Nay, 't is the gentleman.

Duke.
Then have the poles met!

Volante.

Oh, no, only two of the planets have
jostled each other. Venus has had too much attraction
for Mars.

Enter Rolando, with Zamora veiled.
Count.
Why, Captain!

Duke.
Signor Rolando!

Rol.
(After they have laugh'd some time.)
Nay, 't is a woman!
And one that has a soul too, I'll be bound for 't.

Volante.

He must be condemn'd to her for some
offence, as a truant horse is tied to a log, or a great
school-boy carries his own rod to the place of execution.

Rolando.
Laugh till your lungs crack, 't is a woman still.

Count.
I'll not believe it till I see her face.

Volante.
It is some boy dress'd up to cozen us.

Rolando.
It was a boy, dress'd up to cozen me!
Suffice it, sirs, that being well convinc'd—
In what I lately was, a stubborn sceptic—
That women may be reasonable creatures;
And finding that your grace, in one fair instance,
Has wrought a wond'rous reformation in them;
I am resolv'd to marry (they all laugh)
—for 't is odds
(Our joint endeavours lab'ring to that end)
That in another century or two
They may become endurable. What say you?
(To the Duke.)
Have I your free consent?

Duke.
Most certainly.

Rolando.
Yours, sir? (To the Count.)


Count.
Most readily.

Rolando.
And yours? (To Balthazar.)


Balthazar.
Most heartily.

Jaquez.
He does not ask mine!

Rolando.
Add but your blessing, sir, and we are happy!
What think you of my page!—

(Zamora unveils, and kneels to Balthazar.)
Volante.
How!

Balthazar.
Zamora!

Zamora.
Your daughter, sir; who, trembling at your feet—

Balthazar.
Come to my heart!—
You knew how deeply you were rooted there,
Or scarce had ventur'd such a frolick.

Zamora.
That, sir,
Should have prevented me!

Balthazar.
There; she is yours, sir,
If you are still determined.

Rolando.
Fixt as fate.
Nor in so doing do I change my mind;
I swore to wed no woman—she's an angel.

Volante.

Ay, so are all women before marriage;
and that 's the reason their husbands so soon wish
them in heaven afterwards.

Duke.
Those who are tartly tongued: but our example
This truth shall manifest—A gentle wife
Is still the sterling comfort of man's life;
To fools a torment, but a lasting boon
To those who—wisely keep their honey moon.

[Exeunt omnes