University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—Hall in Rodolph's Palace.
Razman and Servitz seated at a Table, with Wine.
Raz.
O for a lonely grot beside a brook—
A table spread with only book and lamp,
A cruse well filled with water from the spring,
A larder stored with fruits and dainty roots,
And I should hang myself. In truth, good coz,
Thine is a drowsy court. Saving thy presence,
And the good wine ye give, a hermit
Need not wish a cell to 'scape from company.
Have ye no laughers here? or do ye make
Your good count's face a mirror for your own?

Ser.
Thine is such greedy mirth, it cannot brook
A serious hour in the whole year's course.

Raz.
When a man toils and starves, let him look sad—
'Tis vile ingratitude when toil is rare,
And recompence abundant, not to smile.
I've worn a merry face some thirty years,
And see, I have not won the jester's hire—
A threadbare doublet, and a bruised skin.
I hate the sight of tears, unless they roll
From joyousness. Sparkling laughter-tears,
There are no gems so bright—they're nought
But sunshine.

Enter Lutold, L. H.
Lut.
Count Rudolph, Servitz, doth require
Your presence instantly.

Ser.
I will attend his pleasure.

[Exit Lut. L. H.
Raz.
If he looks sad, I pray thee shut thine eyes.
Drink not his vinegar, and make wry faces.

Ser.
Take heed thy sweeter draught needs no repentance!

[Exit Servitz, L. H.
Raz.
If't does I will do penance, and that shall be
To keep no company but thine, my cousin.
Some call thee foe, good wine, but quaff thee still.
Where is the friend would give his blood, like thee,
To aid the current of another's heart?
Thou hail'st the needy ever with a smile;
Bid'st age forget his wrinkles, youth his fears;
Makest the happy lovers dream more bright,
And he that sighs o'er faithlessness and scorn
Forget his sorrows in thine honest kiss.
Come, soul with soul, we'll mingle! [Drinks.]
Thine is
A sweet one!
One more embrace! What though the lazy morn
Is scarce awake, thou'lt make the sun look brighter.
[Drinks again.
Art thou divining, mistress mine, or is your mixture
Of the ass and man—a thing of our dull earth?

Enter Gortz, L. H. timidly—a Basket on his arm, and a Pipe slung at his side.
Gortz.
Your pardon, noble sir. I'm a simple peasant—

Raz.
Therefore more welcome than the wisest sage.
Canst laugh?

Gortz.
Marry, aye, when I've occasion.

Raz.
Give me thine hand, then: I love laughter,
But 'tis a sport that here is out of date.
What can'st thou seek among those sober sirs?

Gortz.
My cousin Peter.

Raz.
I'm he!

Gortz.
Nay, sir, you jest—
Though 'tis five years—aye, five this vintage—
Since I saw him.

Raz.
Thine's a true memory—
'Tis just five years.

Gortz.
Dost thou know my cousin Peter?

Raz.
Am not I he? Thy name is—

Gortz.
Gortz, sir.

Raz.
So I would have said.

Gortz.
Go to, sir—my cousin
Is a smaller man than thee.

Raz.
Rather he was!
I am that Peter, but I have fed since then
On courtly airs, which swell a pigmy
Into a Colossus. The lacquey of to-day,
Who bends him to your very shoe-tie, deeming
It honour to remove its soil, the morrow
Finds big with the dignity of station,
And his late tone of meek submission
Chang'd to full breath'd, sound, and pompous
Wording. His eye, too's grown fix'd and fiery,
Not wandering from the earth unto your cap,
Then from your cap to earth again. He spurns
The fare he erst deem'd dainty, which now
His fashioned appetite condemns as only fit
For menial stomachs.
How doth my aunt,
Thy mother?

Gortz.
Well, I thank thee. But thou art
Not Peter. Yet how knew thee I'd a mother?

Raz.
A certain ancient usage of the world
Forbids that any should be born without one.

Gortz.
But art thou truly Peter?

Raz.
I'll prove it to thee
Thou play'st on the pipe!

Gortz.
Certes, do I!
(It must be he—yet, mercy, how he's chang'd!
Cousin was stunted in his growth, but his hair
Was just that hue. I'll touch upon the twenty
Livres that we owe him. He seems in tune
To grant a longer day.) Well, cousin Peter—
If thou art really he—I've come to ask—
(No, I was not to ask 'till I had given)
[Shows Basket, and places it on the table.
I've brought thee, cousin Peter, a score of eggs,
A new cheese, and some rare nectarines.
Look at their rosy cheeks! fresh gather'd—
Every one pluck'd by this little hand.

Raz.
Most generous cousin!

Gortz.
Oh! I had nigh forgot—
My mother's blessing, too!

Raz.
Most thoughtful aunt!

Gortz.
And I was to ask thy patience for thy debt.

Raz.
What debt?

Gortz.
The twenty livres that my mother
Borrow'd.

Raz.
Speak not of them—I grant
The quittance of that debt.

Gortz.
(Runs to table.)
Thou art not Peter!
Give me back my cheese, my eggs, my fruit!
He could have never chang'd so much as this!
To give up claim to gold—full twenty livres!
Were it but a batz, he would have forced
Full payment of his coin!

Raz.
Look at this doublet!
Wore Peter such as this, when Peter lent
His money to thy mother?

Gortz.
Marry, no!

Raz.
The coat can change the man; so has it chang'd
Me from the thrifty griping thing I was
To that thou seest me. Twenty livres! pshaw!
The lacing of my vest cost twice that sum,
And think'st thou I'd wear lace and vex a kinsman
For a paltry debt? not I! Come, man, we'll try
The flavour of thy fruit, and thou shalt pledge me
In a brimming cup. [Fills.]
Health to our cousinship!
Servitz enters with a Packet in his hand.
[To Servitz.]
I've found a kinsman in this worthy youth,
And he would fain forswear me.

Gortz.
(Drinks.]
I'll ne'er again.

Raz.
Thou'lt join us in a cup?

Ser.
I heed not one,
Though “post haste” was my orders. [Drinks.]
A messenger
Has brought here tidings that Underwalden
And some other states are rising, and I'm despatch'd
To Gesler's quarters, with instant orders
To oppose the rebels.

Raz.
[Drinks.]
I'll with thee, then.
A mountain ride will help digestion.

Gortz.
(As they are going.)
Cousin! cousin!

Raz.
Oh, my blessing to my aunt!

[Exeunt Razman and Servitz, L. H.
Gortz.
(Looks after them.)
I've heard my grandmother, on winter nights,
Tell wondrous tales of fays and fairy lands,
Where men are chang'd to princes by a touch.
This must be it if that's my cousin Peter.
I feel myself a mighty difference.
When first I set my foot within this palace
My knees did smite each other, and my breath
Came but by parcels then; but now I feel
As valiant as a bull. Marry, this drink
Is no bad stirrer of one's valour. [Drinks.]
And have I
Not learned a secret of the state—seen
A dispatch that bears his lordship's seal,
And that within an hour? No marvel, then,
That he has grown so great. I'll home again!
How many a mouth will gape to hear my tale
Of cousin Peter and the State's affairs.

[Exit L. H.