University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—Near the French Camp.
Montferrat and Montmorency meeting.
Montf.
I wish you joy.

Montm.
Of what?

Montf.
Of what! thy love.
Aha! you lovers, when all things go smoothly,
Are shy as roes: were you not with your love?

Montm.
Thy love, you mean?

Montf.
Spare me, thou lucky soldier.
Faith I'm too old now:—yet there's luck in't too.—
I always miss.

Montm.
'Tis rather wond'rous, since you take such means
T'insure success.

Montf.
Ay, there you quiz me rightly.
I us'd no means.—I am a fool.—No means
At all, my Lord, else (veil your face, young soldier,)
I had been Emperor.
It plagues a man, when, unexpectedly,
Success goes by so nearly, he must think
For one more effort, “O it had been mine.”
Well, Baldwin, thou hast beat me,
And I can nought but hence to Palestine
To be a soldier still. Plague on these fools,
Perhaps they thought because I am a fighter
I cannot be a prince;—well, well, 'tis past.

Montm.
My lord, it grieves me, since I owe thee much—

Montf.
Come, come, no more on't: that too is to weigh,
Methinks, too merchant-like.

Montm.
A word, my lord,
You've done me service, and I thank thee now—

Montf.
And pay thee off? for, by yon cloud, what else?
Aha! Sir knight, but I must laugh at weddings.—

Montm.
Your pardon; 'twas a blunder—for the man
That serves me most, shall answer me the first
For slightest wrong: but I could hardly name
Thy meanness, lord of France—I pity thee.

Montf.
Aha, yon sun! I'll bid God help thee, sun,
When thou hast slid behind a summer cloud!
Good youth, bestow thine alms, and let me go.—
I'll shred thee, Sir, unless you speak in haste—
Meanness?

Montm.
'Tis more that you don't jump, Montferrat,
To catch my meaning, when I look you thus.

Montf.
Look Sir, I'm patient: I have done thee wrong:
Walk'd in my sleep, and done a madman's tricks—
Smash'd thy love's windows—pour'd into thy ear
A cup of water, to sea-beat thy sleep—
Put ginger in thy heart, to make thee mad;—
For mad thou art, and ripe for a sword-quarrel.
Young soldier, by each thing that we have talk'd of,
Since first I knew thee, not one moment more
Shall this lurk in thy thought:—write on that dust:—
Thou shalt not name it.

Montm.
Call it what you will,
I envy him not that does not loathe the trick.—
To say the maid was thine,—meanest of lies
To serve a purpose. You can't be my friend.

Montf.
Mean lie, indeed! Go, learn the whole from Philip.

Montm.
I'll learn of thee:—the lie was in thy cause:—
'Twas pass'd among the electors in thy cause.
And thou art bound in honour to pull down
Such mean attempts. I'll learn of thee, my lord.
Men may not credit when inform'd 'twas done
Without collusion, then the shame most mine,
When it is thought that I have lent her name
For lies to prostitute. Explain, my Lord.

Montf.
I'm not in the vein just now.

Montm.
I shall not hence till—

Montf.
Knight, you have presum'd
To deem me pliable to such a trick,—
I will not therefore.

Montm.
Art thou my Lord Montferrat?

Montf.
Ay, one that swerves not. Philip shall speak for me—
Philip's thy man.

Montm.
My Lord, you know it all?

Montf.
I do.

Montm.
Then is the lie thine own.

Montf.
Well said, my Lord! it cuts the matter short.
I sought thy friendship, but the fault is thine
Not to have known me sooner; for this fault
You owe a sight o' your sword. By Heaven I'll punish.
Take care o' thy youthful life.—

(They fight.)
Enter a Soldier.
Sol.
Swords out, by St Louis, and our chiefs at work!
I must not lose my general. Ho! a quarrel.

Montm.
My Lord Montferrat, what do we mean by this?

Montf.
Nothing. I'll tell thee when we meet again.

[Exeunt.