 | Basil |  |
SCENE I.
An open street, crowded with people, who seem to be waiting in expectation of some show.Enter a Citizen.
First Man.
Well, friend, what tidings of the grand procession?
Cit.
I left it passing by the northern gate.
Second Man.
I've waited long, I'm glad it comes at last.
Young Man.
And does the princess look so wondrous fair
As fame reports?
Cit.
She is the fairest lady of the train,—
Yet all the fairest beauties of the court
Are in her train.
Old Man.
Bears she such off'rings to Saint Francis' shrine,
So rich, so marvellous rich, as rumour says?
—'Twill drain the treasury!
Cit.
Since she, in all this splendid pomp returns
Her public thanks to the good patron Saint,
Who from his sick bed hath restor'd her father,
Thou wouldst not have her go with empty hands?
She loves magnificence.—
[Discovering amongst the crowd old
Geoffry.
Ha! art thou here, old remnant of the wars?
Thou art not come to see this courtly show,
Which sets the young agape?
Geof.
I came not for the show; and yet, methinks,
It were a better jest upon me still,
If thou didst truly know my errand here.
Cit.
I pri'thee say.
Geof.
What, must I tell it thee?
As o'er my evening fire I musing sat,
Some few days since, my mind's eye backward turn'd
Upon the various changes I have pass'd—
How in my youth with gay attire allur'd,
And all the grand accountrements of war,
I left my peaceful home: then my first battles,
When clashing arms, and sights of blood were new:
Then all the after chances of the war:
Ay, and that field, a well-fought field it was,
When with an arm (I speak not of it oft)
Which now (pointing to his empty sleeve)
thou seest is no arm of mine,
In a strait pass I stopp'd a thousand foes,
And turn'd my flying comrades to the charge;
For which good service, in his tented court,
My prince bestow'd a mark of favour on me;
While his fair consort, seated by his side,
The fairest lady e'er mine eyes beheld,
Gave me what more than all besides I priz'd,—
Methinks I see her still — a gracious smile —
'Twas a heart-kindling smile, — a smile of praise —
Well, musing thus on all my fortunes past,
A neighbour drew the latchet of my door,
And full of news from town, in many words
Big with rich names, told of this grand procession;
E'en as he spoke a fancy seiz'd my soul
To see the princess pass, if in her looks
I yet might trace some semblance of her mother.
This is the simple truth; laugh as thou wilt.
I came not for the show.
Enter an Officer.
Officer
to Geof.
Make way that the procession may have room:
Stand you aside, and let this man have place.
[Pushing Geof. and endeavouring to put another in his place.
Geof.
But that thou art the prince's officer,
I'd give thee back thy push with better blows.
Officer.
What, wilt thou not give place? the prince is near:
I will complain to him, and have thee caged.
Geof.
Yes, do complain, I pray; and when thou dost,
Say that the private of the tenth brigade,
Who sav'd his army on the Danube's bank,
And since that time a private hath remain'd,
Dares, as a citizen, his right maintain
Against thy insolence. Go tell him this,
And ask him then what dungeon of his tower
He'll have me thrust into.
Cit. to Officer.
This is old Geoffry of the tenth brigade.
Offi.
I knew him not: you should have told me sooner.
[Exit, looking much ashamed.
Martial music heard at a distance.
Cit.
Hark, this is music of a warlike kind.
Enter second Citizen.
To Sec. Cit.
What sounds are these, good friend, which this way bear?
Sec. Cit.
The brave Count Basil is upon his march,
To join the emperor with some chosen troops,
And doth as our ally through Mantua pass.
Geof.
I've heard a good report of this young soldier.
Sec. Cit.
'Tis said he disciplines his men severely
And over-much affects the old commander,
Which seems ungracious in so young a man.
Geof.
I know he loves not ease and revelry;
He makes them soldiers at no dearer rate
Than he himself hath paid. What, dost thou think,
That e'en the very meanest simple craft
Cannot without due diligence be learn'd,
And yet the nobler art of soldiership
May be attained by loit'ring in the sun?
Some men are born to feast and not to fight:
20
Still on their dinner turn —
Let such pot-boiling varlets stay at home,
And wield a flesh-hook rather than a sword.
In times of easy service, true it is,
An easy careless chief, all soldiers love;
But O how gladly in the day of battle
Would they their jolly bottle-chief desert,
And follow such a leader as Count Basil!
So gath'ring herds, at pressing danger's call,
Confess the master deer.
[Music is heard again, and nearer. Geof. walks up and down with a military triumphant step.
Cit.
What moves thee thus?
Geof.
I've march'd to this same tune in glorious days.
My very limbs catch motion from the sound,
As they were young again.
Sec. Cit.
But here they come.
Enter Count Basil, officers and soldiers in procession, with colours flying, and martial music. When they have marched half-way over the stage, an officer of the duke's enters from the opposite side, and speaks to Basil, upon which he gives a sign with his hand, and the martial music ceases; soft music is heard at a little distance, and Victoria, with a long procession of ladies, enters from the opposite side. The General &c. pay obeisance to her, as she passes; she stops to return it, and then goes off with her train. After which the military procession moves on, and Exeunt.
Cit.
to Geof.
What thinkst thou of the princess?
Geof.
She is fair,
But not so fair as her good mother was.
[Exeunt.
| Basil | |