University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A Room in the Marchese di Millaflores' Palace.
Millaflores, Crescenzi, and Diodati discovered.
Diodati.
Ha! ha! rare sport!—well, Marquess! we but came
To ask you sage advice upon this point—
And since you think the Duke would be displeased
At our appearing at the Festa clad
In masquerading dress, we will refrain;
You are the pink of courtiers, and know best!—
For my part, I confess, I wished to speak
Some few home-truths to those whom I well know
Had injured secretly my noble Friend,
The young Algarves—and, you know, 'tis still
Permitted under sanction of the mask,
To introduce the unfashionable guest—
And stranger to the Court—called Truth!—

Milla.
Indeed,
I beg you will not say I gave advice—
I counselled nothing—and but just remarked
It might be inconvenient—might occasion—
'Twere possible, some slight unpleasantness—
I said, I could not say—'twere sage or right—
And said, I would not say 'twere otherwise.

Cres.
Oh!—yes!—dear Marquess! thou wert most discreet,
But then thou art such an Oracle—thou know'st!—
The obscurest hints from thee we snatch and hoard
Most carefully—most curiously do weigh!—
Well! we have now given up the plan—but tell me—
Think you not with us, 'twas a sinful shame,
That men who all affected to esteem him,—
To whom in his hey-day of favour, he
But showed all kindness and cordiality,
Should have together plotted, in so base,
So villainously base and coldly cruel
A manner, to destroy, and blight, and crush
The Saviour of their Sovereign's honoured life!
To whom from that same unforgotten hour,
When he, at great self risk did guard his Prince—
That gracious Sovereign was of course placed under
Such weighty obligations!—

Milla.
As to that,
I ne'er could see the obligations yet!—

Dio.
Thou know'st the fact?

Milla.
The fact, I know, 'tis true;
I well remember this same youth contrived
Once on a time, and in a certain Battle,
To ward a certain weapon from some part
Of the Duke's person—he, of course, averred
A vital part—but he was no Chirurgeon!—
And ill could calculate, it seems to me,
The chances of the thrust!—

Cres.
Well!—let that pass!—
The Duke believed he owed his life to him—
And ever had displayed to his Preserver
The warmest gratitude—till those masked foes—
Snakes in the grass—between them sought to raise
The bar of discord.

Milla.
Noble Count Crescenzi!—
'Tis strange His Highness should conceive he is
Beneath an obligation to this youth!—
I do repeat, I think it truly strange—
Allowing e'en the most we can allow—
Admitting all you urge in argument—
He only saved His Highness' life!—that's all!—

Dio.
Why! something of an obligation too!—
He only risked his own, to spare his Prince's—
A trifle—yet to be considered—heigh?

Milla.
(warmly.)
A most impertinent presumptuous act!
A youth like him, without or name, or rank,
Or place, or office, near the Royal Person,
To meddle thus—all-uninvited too,
In things of such importance—matters ev'n
Connected with the state!—fie!—fie!—'twas treason!—
The highest pitch of insolence!—for me,
I marvel how His Highness could vouchsafe
To let the Busy-body play a part,
For which he was so glaringly unfit.

Dio.
You would have had him tried at once, no doubt,
By stern Court-Martial there, for his dire crime—
His breach of discipline—his misdemeanour—
And daring act—

Milla.
Most certainly I should!
For I distinctly state, he was unfit
For such a part as he presumed to play!—
Had he but been a Gentleman in Waiting—
A State Page of the Presence—or, perchance,
An ordinary Medical Attendant—
Or an Extraordinary Leech or Surgeon—
The Private Secretary or the Assistant—
Some young Equerry—or some household-follower—
A guard of the Antechamber—Usher—Herald—
The case were different;—but for him to dare
To interpose his vulgar person thus,
Between the Prince and the Enemy who sought
His life—was most preposterously presumptuous!—
Faugh! I am sick of thoughts of it, I swear!—

Cres.
The Prince had sicker been without it, though!
Despite your reasoning.

Dio.
Aye! and I should think
His Highness at the moment scarcely wished
To wait upon the Gentleman in Waiting—
Till it might suit his leisure to appear—
And guard the sacred person of his Prince—
Or to await in the most mortal strait—
Even the fair presence of a Page of the Presence—
To gain deliverance from the jaws of Death!
Fore Heaven!—I think, had you, good Marquess, been
Then in His Highness' place, you had done the same!
And from the vulgar hands of the Unknown,
Accepted that small trifling boon—your life!—

Milla.
You wrong me, Sir!—and let me tell you now,
A tale will prove how ill you judge of me.
Some twenty years ago, when I was made
Ambassador unto the honoured Court
Of His high Catholic Majesty of Spain,
On our return, a furious storm arose,
Threatening the demolition of our bark;
'Twas on a rock—and dangers yawned around.
I could not swim—a common sailor came
With impudent, officious, rude effrontery,
Offering to bear me in his lusty arms!—
(Me—me invested with dread offices—
A Personage of ponderous state and weight)!—

Dio.
By mass, he would have had the worst of it!—
Proceed! dear Marquess!—

Milla.
And proposing thus
To snatch me from the perils of that plight—
This I refused with suiting dignity—
What I—I—be thus piteously preserved?
I as myself—or I—as the awful Proxy—
As the all-distinguished Representative
Of him—the illustrious Duke!—the Accredited—
The Plenipotentiary—could I indeed
Vouchsafe to be preserved by aught beneath
The Captain of the ship!—unhappily—
The Captain was a sorry swimmer;—well!—
I condescended to imply I would
Be graciously pleased in such thwart circumstance
To be—from Death—immediately impending—
Saved by the first Lieutenant—nought beneath
That rank assuredly!—by him indeed—
I peradventure might descend to be
Kept above water—from the grave upheld—
I might so sink myself, as swim with him!—
And favour him by floating through his help.

Cres.
Oh! the overpowering offer!—'twas sublime!—
Nay! most magnanimously memorable!—

Milla.
I even declared, that if the case should grow
Quite desperate—I would flatteringly consent
To honour him, by holding to the last!—
And if I sunk—with affability
Would deign to drag him with me to the bottom!—
And let him drown in my good company!—
The great responsibility, perchance,
Alarmed him, for he showed himself scarce anxious
To share the honours I intended him.
It chanced—a friendly vessel aided us—
And came and took our whole full crew on board—
And I had all the ennobling consciousness
Of having well and worthily myself
Comported most uncompromisingly—
A pattern to all Princes, Emperors, Kings,—
Ambassadors to foreign Courts, and Envoys,
Special or otherwise—Chargés d'Affaires,
Plenipotentiaries, and Internuncios,
Grand Dukes, Arch Dukes, Grandees, and Marquesses;
Generalissimos and Admirals;
Judges and Chancellors and Privy Councillors;
Peers and Lord high hereditary Grand Treasurers!—
And I feel sure in battle I would die
(Could I not be legitimately spared,)
Rather than let some low clown save my life!—
Or one unknown—unnoticed—and unnamed!—
Who boasts no sixteen quarters of his own!—

Cres.
For my part, when in Battle, I should need
But one, methinks!—“Give quarter!—quarter!—Ho!”—
And that from the enemy!—

Milla.
Remember, pray—
Above all—Sovereigns should indeed but think
Of dread Posterity, and what will say
The Subjects of their Great-great-Grandchildren!
They should consider but the World!—the World!—

Dio.
His Highness did—and wished to stay in it
A little longer;—now it seems to me
'Twas the best compliment that he could pay it!—

Milla.
He should have thought of what the World would say—
Have paid more homage to the popular breath!—

Cres.
Nay! he was right to think first of his own—
And bargain for that longer breathing space—
Oh! most incontrovertibly!—

Milla.
Indeed,
He should have dwelt more on appearances!—

Cres.
Now it appears to me, the appearance then
Of his young brave Deliverer, must have been
The most agreeable of all appearances!—
Time wears—good sooth—we must be gone—but first—
Dear Marquess—wilt thou sup with us to-night?
(To Dio.)
The fellow's so amusing, I must try
And make him come!—a party—small—select—
Pray you say, yes!—

Milla.
(looking suspiciously.)
Why truly!—truly!—well!—
Inform me with what purport—pray declare—
Now with what motive does your Lordship give
This same small supper—heigh? What's in the Wind?—
The Object of the Supper?—

Cres.
Object! none!—
Save to appease our hunger sociably!

Milla.
Nay! People sup not, sure, without strong cause!—
That is, I mean, they do not suppers give!—

Cres.
Why! Friend! you are so suspicious—'twas yestreen,
You would not walk with a most lovely lady,
For fear she entertained some dark design
Against your good—(now I can swear to you,
You were the Entertainer!)—but indeed,
'Gainst all the laws of gallantry—thus you—
Suspected her!—

Milla.
I own the impeachment—yes!
That Lady is so full of cunning wiles—
The Lady Fiorilina—

Dio.
Nay, believe
You wrong her cruelly—and you—you know—
She is ever kind to you!—But I feel sure
You would suspect the Angels—should they come
And gently hold their bright hands out to you!—
You would but think them flatterers like yourself—
And sidle back from their embrace!

Milla.
Who? I?
Oh! fie! Sir! what!—indeed, you judge me ill!
What!—I suspect Their Highnesses!—

Dio.
Ha! ha!—
Yes! Marquess!—now, you know, you know, you would
And even the Archangels if they showed you favour.

Milla.
I never could so wrong Their Eminencies!—
Nay! I would say their Holinesses, or
Their Excellent Majesties—if I am right—
Their Seats are Thrones!—

Cres.
Perchance, for Satan now—

Milla.
Hush!—speak not so abruptly on the sudden—
Thus of his Low Infernal Highness: or,
It may be, His High Lowness, or—

Dio.
Good troth!—
You are right—a sure Eaves-dropper he must be,
Where Courtiers talk—far likelier I must own,
Than the afore-mentioned ones!—Well! we must now
Leave you in his good Company! Farewell
My pearl of peers!—

Milla.
Your bounden Slave, Seignors!
And truest well-wisher—and lowliest servant.
[Exeunt Dio. and Cres.
Now I must think on my projected suit
To Lady Fiorilina—I must see
What chance I have of happiness with her,
By studying carefully her pedigree.
Poor Soul! her brother told the truth, indeed,
When he remarked how kind to me she is—
She never sees me but she smiles!—at times—
Ev'n laughs outright—in nervous trepidation,
And over-joy!—She is, it must be owned,
Outrageously in love with my appearance—
Manner—delivery—walk—and ev'n apparel!—
I pity her—but must applaud her taste!
Oh! Millaflores!—thou thrice-dangerous man—
There's not a Grandmother in Florence now,
But cries, “Behold him! fifty years ago
I might have died of love for such a Beau!”

[Exit.