 | The Count Arezzi |  |
43
SCENE IV.
A Chamber in the Palace.Prince of Andria and the Duchess.
DUCHESS.
You should have done it then. The tide at flood
Ran high, but missed, this bark where all our hopes
Are stored and destined for the days to come—
Lies idly on the perilous strand of time,
To rot or perish.
PRINCE ANDRIA.
But I could not do it,
And yet it will be done.
DUCHESS.
I trusted to you,
Or would have dared myself. Our brother's nature
Grew softer, and his spirit was more inclined,
While the winds called him from me. Men disclose
Their nature's frailties to observant eyes
Not least when least they feel them. Wherefore else
This double tenderness, and threefold friendship,
If those who love must part—but that the hours
Of passed communion were disturbed by folly,
Or fed to surfeiting? Had I knelt then
And owned that we deceived him, told our vows,
Our marriage, that Arezzi was our child,
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This cloud-built mystery of twenty years—
He would have found a reason for our guile
In his late pride, weighed your deservings justly,
And left us here forgiven—I gave the task,
Through shame, to you.
PRINCE ANDRIA.
I did engage to do it,
And failed, I own, through fear. The eve we left him
There was an hour for nature and kind thoughts,
When both drew farther from their place, and met
As level friends between. We spoke of Naples,
Duke Ferdinand, and you—your presence here,
Your honors in the state—and then I touched,
But tenderly—the eyeball of our hopes,
And talked of age and marriage. “Her grace”—I said—
“Climbs yet toward noon, but wedlock, to be blessed,
“Should not be later—while Life's wheel turns round,
“What ceases to ascend, declines.”—Methought
His face was troubled as he stopped me here,
And answered thus—“She has no equal suitor.
“The pillows of high heads, if chaste, afford
“Too narrow room for love. Spain can find out
“But few to match her children. Better live
“Alone revered than coupled with the base.”
DUCHESS.
You are too wary, Andria—while we knock,
The gate is barred within. This politic wisdom
Lacks boldness to perfection.
45
Well—it does so.
I found my fault too late. You had my promise,
And yet it is fulfilled in part. The king
Knows all by this—that which I feared to speak,
I wrote at large. One watchful of his humours,
And near his side, marks some good hour in Spain
When we are missed and mourned—he has my letter,
And will bring back its answer. So forgive me.
[Exeunt.
| The Count Arezzi | |