University of Virginia Library

(Scene. 1.)

—Room in Castle.
Soartes
(solus.)
In the adventurous period of my youth,
When the steeled sinew and undaunted brow,
A bosom strongly garrisoned with hopes,
Gave scornful challenge to adversity,
She came not near me; now, that I am old,
Feeble, outworn, by every hope forsaken,
This bitter and ungenerous enemy
Provokes her cruel legions to the assault,
And all the missiles of her hoarded wrath
Hurls at my naked head. Another day
Lags on the track betwixt me and my ruin.
Is it too late or shall Gonseres triumph?
I have still choice betwixt the rags of scorn
And the high fortunes of this daring project.
Alas! time presses; beggary, dishonour,
Meranie wronged—the sharer in my woe,
All are arrayed before me. Shall I wait
In meek forbearance my untoward fates
Or by one act, too grasping to involve
In its miscarriage vulgar infamy,
Retrieve them?
(Enter Bertrand with a letter.)
Bring you more of news, good Bertrand,
And fresh reverses to this aching bosom?
A letter, give it me, some lawyer's claim
Or griping usurer's—my daily surfeit?
To the flames with it!

Ber.

Nay! hold, my lord, I warrant it free of mischief,
neither clamorous nor threatful,—a bill of costs
nor an attorney's writ. Note you the seal and motto, they
are noble and argue well of its contents.

Soartes.
True, I rcollect them,
The count Vicente's, with whose sire I was
Familiar in my boyhood. Afterwards,
As we grew up, dissimilar pursuits
Wrought our estrangement; and it so continued,
Until his death, when this, the present count,
On some State matter at the king's desire
Was sent abroad.
(Reads.)

“My Lord Soartes,

“I take the blame to myself of forming, unknown
to you (it is now upwards of two years ago), an acquaintance
with your ward and niece, concerning whose perfections
I have more will than ability to discourse. A
twelvemonth has elapsed since my father's death—an
event which is remembered by me with the deeper
interest from the circumstance of his having in his last
moments given kindly sanction to my desired union with
the Lady Meranie. Since that period to the present time,
I have been employed abroad on State matters, and thus
prevented from holding earlier communication with you
on the subject. As I am now, however, on the eve of
returning to my native country. I make all speed to
acquaint you with the bent of my purpose, and only wait
your approval, as guardian and relative of the lady, before
claiming the surrender of her hand, &c., &c.”

“Vicente.”

Again unfortunate!
All of a web with what beside is looming (aside)
,
Hold! honest Bertrand! this one thing you harp on,
Justice to Meranie, is now at hand;
Here are proposals from the Count Vicente
Apprising me of his long-cherished love
For my fair niece; moreover, he entreats
My countenance to his suit.

Ber.

Which, as a matter of course, my lord, you will not
refuse?

Soartes.
Three weeks ago,
I, of all men—Go, fetch the girl, good Bertrand,
But stay—Alas! I have no heart to see her;
I have no heart to break my purpose to her—
To banish the rich life blood from her cheek—
To cloud the eye radiant with love and hope—
I cannot—dare not.

Ber.

How! my lord, you perplex me. The alliance is
desirable. It befits the rank and fortunes of your ward.
The Count, it appears, is an accepted lover. In your consent,
rests the happiness of both—that consent of
course—

Soartes.
This is honesty—
Your simple, over-scrupulous honesty,
That cannot with both eyes take estimate
Or put the brain to service. I perplex you!
No wonder Bertrand—being myself perplexed!
Justice to Meranie! I will be just—
Most just to her. She shall have boundless wealth.
The gold her spendthrift guardian gave the winds
Shall re-invade its coffers. Wealth! no fear!
To the last barren acre, I shall free
Her sire's estate. No one, at least, will say
“He has curtailed her dower.”

Ber.

Ha! a jest, my lord. True, I am owl-witted—a
dull drawer of inferences; but the rebuilding of your
niece's estate—what means it? a coinage of the brain?

Soartes.
So credit it. Th'event may shake this faith.
I am poor but thro' forbearance. When I seek,
Urged by th'occasion, to amend my fortunes,
Trust me! the strong expediency itself
Shall furnish means.

Ber.

You bewilder me, my lord, more and more—and
the Ladye Meranie? At least, this is good news—this—of
the count's return?

Soartes.
Say you? Good news indeed.
Be satisfied. Your head and heart have matched them.
Your heart, it has done well; your head, I fear,
Is all out of its reckoning. Hark you, Bertrand,
This must not pass your lips! Be cautious!
The Ladye Meranie shall be apprised
At the becoming juncture. Meanwhile, see to't,
No whisper of the Count's proposals reach
The air she breathes in.
[Exit Bertrand.
A devoted heart
This simple fellow has! How I have puzzled him!
And yet, alas! puzzled myself the more!
[OMITTED]
Must I abandon all? throw off Gonseres
And to th'impatient lover of the girl
Denounce my villany—confess to have played
The reckless gambler with her trusted gold,
And to the fickle mercy of the dice
Consigned her fairest acres? Must I stoop,
Taking advantage of love's generous heyday,
To move Vicente's pity—gaining only
The more contempt? I am resolved,
A well-timed word will school into compliance
My gentle ward. She must renounce the Count
And to a rougher lover link her fortunes.

[Exit.