 | Edwin the Fair |  |
Scene I.
—Leolf's Castle, in the neighbourhood of Hastings.Emma
(alone).
He walks upon the beach. A mind perturbed
Shall find the sea companionable. His
Is sorely troubled or my comment errs,
That is not uninspired. Oh, dearest Leolf!
You see not me with love-discerning eyes,
As I see you, or you would pity me.
When last I saw you, stately was your strength,
And you are now a very noble ruin.
Might I but be the wild flower on the wall
Of that war-wasted tower! A weed, alas!
But with a perfume.—Were I but at court
Soon should I see what currents cross him there.
The King? And if it be ... Here's my soft slave.
Now to your work, my plotting, scheming brains,
And I shall thrive.
51
Well, Ernway, friend, what cheer?
Ernway.
I thank you, I am well in health. My heart
Is heavy, as you know.
Emma.
'Tis a good heart;
But pitch me overboard this sand and gravel.
With a light heart a meagre wit may pass;
Or with a copious wit a heavy heart;
But when the ship that's vacant of a freight
Labours with nothing but the dead-weight ...
Ernway.
Hush!
Although you love me not, you should not scorn me,
Lest some day you be scorned yourself.
Emma.
'Tis true;
I should be gentle; and, good faith! I love you;
Not amorously, I own, but amicably.
You are a kind and most affectionate fool,
And beautiful besides. I love your eyes,
Your hair, your mouth, your chin; I love you piecemeal;
I love your softness, gracefulness, and warmth;
And putting you together, on the whole
I like to see you at my heart's gate sit
Upon a winter's day and toss you crumbs.
Such is my friendship, and this many a day
I have not taxed you for returns. But now ...
Ernway.
What can I do?
Emma.
What will you?
52
Nay, what not?
If my weak wit, that you despise so much,
Can compass it, I'll do it.
Emma.
Will you lie?
Ernway.
For you I will: I would not for myself.
Emma.
Thou art a virtuous youth and loving liar.
'Tis better than to be a lying lover;
And yet not good—and would you not be good?
Ernway.
As good as you—no better.
Emma.
I your conscience!
'Tis much to have one soul to answer for!
Yet will I make you sin. As good as I?
I am a liar and a cheat. Now say—
Will you be like me?
Ernway.
I have said I will.
Emma.
You will get nothing for it.
Ernway.
Not a smile?
Emma.
A smile at most—assuredly not more.
Ernway.
I am content to lie and cheat for that.
Emma.
You come from court. There's much of service there
Is of that kind and in that coin requited.
Now you will instantly to court again,
And for the service you can do—'tis this,
To take me with you.
Ernway.
I would kneel for years
But for the blessing of a morning dream
That told me you would ask me this in truth.
53
I tell you, you shall do it. But there's more.
Think not that I will let the word go forth
That I have wandered from my home with you
Unwedded. You must say we're man and wife.
Ernway.
And will you marry me?
Emma.
What, I? Oh no.
Ernway.
At last you will.
Emma.
No, neither last nor first.
Ernway.
Well, I shall fancy that you will; of that
You cannot hinder me.
Emma.
Indeed I can;
And if your fancy once should err so far
I will disforest its demesne for ever,
That nothing wild or free shall wander there;
Dispark its parks, dismantle and destroy
Its cloud-built castles. You are to present
The shadow of a husband—nothing more,
And this but for a season. Oh! my heart!
Dear Ernway, I will not torment you much;
And sooth to say, I'm sorry for your pain.
To-morrow, for a sin you've not committed
I'll teach you to entreat a false forgiveness.
You must ask pardon of your worthy sire
For a clandestine marriage. He will storm,
But heed him not. There, you may kiss my hand;
And now, I pray you, go.
Ernway.
Good-bye, sweet Emma.
54
Call me “Dear Wife”—“Sweet Emma” is too loving;
'Tis an unmarried phrase; whereas “Dear Wife”
Imports the decencies of dry affection.
Ernway.
No, I will say, “Sweet Emma.”
Emma.
What you will
When we're alone. Come with me to the beach.
| Edwin the Fair | |