University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

—FREDERICK'S CHAMBER.
Enter FABIO.
FABIO.
He who found, perchance, the senses
Of a miserable valet,
Who has lost them for this reason,
That his master's wits first went,
(Proof—how valueless—how worthless
Were they to the natural owner,)
Let him come and own the fact:—
They will little serve the finder,
And the loser may reward:—
There is no one here to tell me,
Howsoe'er I ask or question:
But, the senses once departed,
Are they ever found again?—
If you have no great objection,
Let us, Memory, some moments,
You and I soliloquize:—
Is there any news?—I know not:—
What's the reason, at the time
When I seem to stand securest
In the favour of my lord,
That, with sudden fury striking,
He, two thousand blows should give me?
Why, the reason is—he's mad:—
And when I more guilty far
Fly his presence, with new dresses,
And caresses loads me then?
Memory, say, what means such conduct?
Why, it means that he is drunk:—
Two conclusive answers truly
To the questions I have put;
And a third I cannot wait for,
For I see Don Henry comes,
Speaking as they say, submissa
Voce; and if they desire,
Coming to this quiet chamber,
To conceal themselves from me,
I would wish to save them trouble
And conceal myself from them,
Partly that I wish to hear them,
Partly that, if he at times
So agreeable or angry—
Alternating with the wind;
When the angry fit approaches,
It is just as well to let it
Pass away, or waste its fury
On the wind from which it sprung.
All is lost if I can find not
Something quickly here, behind
Or beneath which I can hide me:
If this open buffet here
Is not high enough to let me
Underneath—there is nothing else.
Why delay? 'tis not so novel,
Since it is not the first time
That I have been buffeted.

Conceals himself under the buffet.
Enter FREDERICK and HENRY.
HENRY.
Why look round?

FREDERICK.
Lest some one hear us.

HENRY.
Do not fear, for all the servants
Have gone out of the house.

FABIO,
aside.
Not all:
There is one of them remaining.

FREDERICK.
To this uttermost apartment,
Not without a cause I bring thee,
Where there is no other witness.

FABIO,
aside.
True! a false one goes for naught.

HENRY.
Speak!

FREDERICK.
I first the door shall fasten!
And, since now, your highness, we
Are at last alone—the moment
Has arrived to speak out clear:—

FABIO,
aside.
Highness?—good!

HENRY.
On what compulsion,
For what reason, are you forced
Thus to treat me?

FREDERICK.
There are two:
Both of principal importance,
One for me, and one for you.
And yours is, that I have now
(Well I know, that you will pardon
Aught that seems in opposition
To my friendship, and excuse
What necessity imposes)
To reveal, and to inform you
That your rank and name are known
To Flerida, and 'tis useless
To affect a secret longer
Which is known to all the world,—
And mine is ......

HENRY.
Before you tell it,
Let me know what way Flerida
Came my secret to find out.

FREDERICK.
This is what I cannot fathom,
But I know she knows ......

FABIO,
aside.
Oh! hear him;
What a pimp my master is!

FREDERICK.
For it was herself that told me!

HENRY.
Let us pass then to the reason
Which is thine, for as to mine,
I shall venture to continue
My disguise until she speaks.

FREDERICK.
Then in what I have to tell thee,
Pledge to me your princely word,
Pledge me as thou art, that buried
Thou wilt keep it in thy breast.

HENRY.
Yes, I do so; and I promise
That what thou dost stamp in wax,
I shall ever hold in marble.

FREDERICK.
Noble Henry de Gonzaga—
Mantua's proud, illustrious duke—
You have been informed already
I, a beauteous lady love.
Well, this prodigy of nature—
Well, this magic gift of Heaven—
This most beautiful of wonders—
This amazement's sweetest cause—
Has to-day, o'er frights and terrors,
The impossible effecting,
Triumphed over fate itself,
And from out the combat gathered
Two immortal garlands blent
Of her faith and my good fortune;
And this letter, which a zephyr
Doubtless gave into my hands,
Since, in order to have reached them
From her elevated heaven
To my deep despair's abysses—
As the warrant of my freedom—
It must have, descending, flown.
But I badly so express it,
Since it rather is the warrant
Of my slavery: for it
Doth contain the happy contract
Which will make me live for ever
An unchanging love's sure slave;
Whose close-link'd and fastened fetters,
Not the silent file of Time
Will be able to dissever.
It says then ...... But it will better
Be its own clear exposition
Of the truth with which she writes,
And the faith with which I worship:—
Reads.
“My master, my dear lord and love,
Fortune doth declare against us
Every moment more and more,—
Let us intercept her footsteps:—
Have then ready about midnight
Two fleet horses near the portal
Which looks out upon the bridge
That divides the park and palace;
I will come forth at your signal,
And from jealousy escaping,
Fly, if it can e'er be fled from:—
So farewell,—and may God guard your
Precious life a thousand years.”
[Resumes.
Thus she writes, and so I trust me,
Mighty lord, to thy assistance,
Since I know my zeal to serve thee
May claim so much as a debt:
If, to serve your love, in Parma
You my humble aid accepted,
And if I, to thee confiding,
Ask thy service now in turn:
It is clear that I recover
All the former debt you owe me,
And that I repay thee also
All the debt that I incur:—
Give me, then, my lord, some letters
Unto Mantua; and here
Use thy powerful intercession
In defending me, until
I this lady place in safety.

HENRY.
I so thankful am to Heaven,
That it gives me an occasion
To repay your friendly service
With my services: that I
Shall not only grant the favour
That you ask, but shall be proud,
Happy, and delighted also,
To accompany you myself,—
Until you have gained the frontier
Of my territory, where
You shall meet with every honour.

FREDERICK.
No, my lord, with your permission,
I will go alone: much more
Can you aid me here in Parma,
If you will protect my fame:—
Here a safeguard and defender,
There your word will be enough.

HENRY.
I in all things will obey you.

FREDERICK.
Write the letters, while I go
To the palace to dissemble,
By my zeal and my attention,
What I mean to do this night,—
And to find that devil Fabio,
Whom I have not seen all day.

FABIO,
aside.
Then you haven't far to seek him.

FREDERICK.
Though he's not to know the cause,

FABIO,
aside.
Oh! of course.

FREDERICK.
That he the horses
May have ready, as I said.

HENRY.
You are right, and I remaining
Shall endeavour to fulfil
What my evil fate may order.

FREDERICK.
Here I shall return to seek you.

HENRY.
Writing, shall I wait thee here?

FREDERICK.
Love! assist me with thy favour.

HENRY.
Love! take pity on my grief.

[Exeunt.
FABIO,
coming forth.
He who listens, seldom heareth
Any good, the adage says;—
But a proverb sometimes lieth,
As I've heard what's very good:—
As from listening, I have gained
Four important bits of knowledge.
First—I know the stranger's name;
Second—the exact condition
Of my master's love at last;—
Third—the news that I am bursting
Now to tell unto Flerida;—
And the fourth—some new reward.

Exit.

SCENE II.

—A HALL IN THE PALACE OF THE DUCHESS.
Enter LAURA and ARNESTO.
ARNESTO.
No, Lisardo's fault, dear Laura,
Is not of so grave a kind,
That he may no solace find,
If he humbly speak his sorrow;—
Faults that have the strong defence
Of love, can give no very great offence—
And so, I wish you speak to him more kindly,
Since the long-expected dispensation
Any hour may reach its destination.

LAURA.
I will obey thee blindly,
Since it is better (O strong power of fate!)
To do thy bidding than provoke thy hate—
And so, submissively I say,
That I will take the state
That is to me presented by my fate—
And bind myself to-day,
To set all further doubts at rest,
And wed the spouse that doth deserve me best.

ARNESTO.
I am pleased at thy obedience;
Lisardo, you may enter:—
Laura, stay.

Enter LISARDO.
LISARDO.
Señora, if I venture,
It only is to offer my allegiance:
And at thy feet my life to lay—
The price of that sweet pardon that I pray.

LAURA.
Lisardo, this permission
My father's liberal wish dispensed.
To-day my acts are influenced
Not by election, but submission,
And so, you need not thank me for a hand—
Another's hand, and given thee through command.

LISARDO.
It is enough to make my joy divine
To know, Señora, that I have thy hand;
How or why I need not understand,
If it is only mine;
The happiest destiny is this
That seeks not out, but finds the road to bliss:
O slow and sluggish sun,
Quicken thy course, or shorten thy career,
And bring the happy moment near
To which my swift hopes run.
Enter FLERIDA.
Arnesto! Laura!

ARNESTO.
To thy chamber speeding,
Laura, my lady, was with us proceeding.

FLERIDA.
Lisardo, I congratulate you truly,
That you are pardoned 'spite of Laura's shyness.

LISARDO.
Such favour makes my dying hope bud newly.

ARNESTO.
She acts as doth become my child.

LAURA.
Your highness,
How do you find yourself in health to-day?

FLERIDA.
You know the grief that on my heart doth pray.

LAURA.
Some aid, some remedy you should procure.

FLERIDA.
Ah! what are vain attempts at healing,
That but increase the anguish of my feeling;
My sorrow being an ill that doth augment by cure.
But that it never may be said,
That solitude or pining struck me dead,
Do you my friends invite,
Unto a festival I shall prepare
To-morrow, all the noble and the fair
Of Parma:—thus I may bring forth to light
[Aside.
The murderous fair that kills this heart of mine.

ARNESTO.
Thine is my every wish.

[Exit.
LISARDO.
My life is thine.

[Exit.
FLERIDA.
Ah! Laura mine, how blest thou art
To be the happy wife of one
Who loves thee so.

LAURA.
Ah! yes indeed, I own
The joy, the rapture of my heart,
(If truth is to be said)
That he who loves me is with me to wed.

FLERIDA.
Ah! more unhappy far
Is she who, with the impossible at strife,
Subdued, must yield her life!
But no, my evil star
Shall find my resolute will
Enough to curb her baneful influence still.

LAURA.
That remedy can fail not in effect;
But tell me of the mode to be pursued?

FLERIDA.
In such a dangerous ill as mine, I should
The gentlest means select.

LAURA.
And what are they?

FLERIDA.
To own the hopes that thrill me.

LAURA.
Is that to conquer?

FLERIDA.
Yes.

LAURA,
aside.
It is to kill me!

FLERIDA.
To yield to fate
Is but to gain a subtler victory;
But Laura, shall I be
The first, who in the married state
Wedded unequally?

LAURA,
aside.
My death is near!

FLERIDA.
Frederick is a noble cavalier.

LAURA.
To that indeed you have my full consent.

FLERIDA.
Since we have touched upon this theme at all,
Ah! Laura, let us now recall
The singular event
Of his portrait which your quickness won;
What explanation have you?

LAURA.
I have none:
Because, as I no interest then had
In the affair, it vanished from my mind:—
Jealousy doth drive me mad!

[Aside.
FLERIDA.
What secret motive could there be behind
His earnest wish to keep his picture hid?

LAURA.
I know not: but to give it as you did,
Back to his hands, before the case I viewed
Minutely—I could scarcely so have done—
If he had other reasons, doubtless one
Was that it held his lady's too.

FLERIDA.
And so I must conclude.
O jealous love! that every thought doth scare!

LAURA.
No doubt it was his lady's face was there.

Enter FREDERICK and FABIO.
FREDERICK.
Must it take an hour to find you?

FABIO.
With that question I reply,—
Since I have been looking after
You, the livelong day till now—

FREDERICK.
Hush! the duchess!—be in waiting—
I shall want you presently.

FABIO.
Yes: although I do not want you
[Aside.
Presently nor futurely.

FREDERICK,
aside.
Trembling, fearful of her anger,
Do I come before her.

FABIO.
Why?

FREDERICK.
Owing to a strange adventure.

FABIO.
Recollect the little story
That I told you, and you'll see
With what ease and expedition
You will get through all you fear.

FREDERICK.
How?

FABIO.
By saying a thanksgiving
For Macárandón in turn.

LAURA,
to Flerida.
Pause ......

FLERIDA,
to her.
My pain I must acknowledge
Now.

LAURA,
aside.
And I to suffer mine.

FLERIDA.
Frederick!

FREDERICK.
Most illustrious lady.

FLERIDA.
How is it, that through the day
You have not appeared, and only
Seek the court when night comes on?

FREDERICK.
Because when I am near thee, lady,
Whatever time or hour it be,
A noontide glory shines from out thee,
And the departing sun appears
Endiademed with lovelier splendour—
Encircled with a rosier light;—
Because whatever hour we see thee,
It doth appear resplendent noon.

FLERIDA.
What flattering words!

FREDERICK.
These words, believe me,
Are not mere flattery.

FLERIDA.
What are they?

FABIO.
Mere Macárandónas, lady.

FLERIDA,
aside to Laura.
Do you not perceive, my Laura,
That he clearly understands
My inclination?

LAURA.
He does well.

FREDERICK.
Another good excuse remaineth,
Which I can state.

FLERIDA.
And what is that?

FREDERICK.
As I judged you were offended
With me, I deferred awhile
Thus appearing in your presence.

FLERIDA.
I offended?—for what cause?

FREDERICK.
It were foolish to recall it,
If you do not recollect.

FLERIDA.
It is not that I do not know it.

FREDERICK.
Then how?

FLERIDA.
I do not wish to know.

FREDERICK.
By so much is my good fortune
Greater, that you thus forget
From the best of motives—pity—
He, this virtue only knows,
Who forgets the wrong he suffers.

FLERIDA.
I am doubtful what you mean.

LAURA.
If you grant me your permission,
I, methinks, can make it plain.

FLERIDA.
Do so, and in such a manner,
That he understand.

LAURA.
I shall.
[Takes out her handkerchief.
I—that any mind is generous,
Am—convinced of, when its owner,
Dying—hides the fatal anguish
Of jealousy—disdain and love.
FREDERICK, aside, taking out his handkerchief.
You have—only proved the major,
Laura—of your proposition,
No grounds—for the minor giving:—
For it—find some argument.

LAURA.
Yes, I will:—That this were certain!
[Aside.
“That I had no grounds for it.”—
Then—if silence is true courage,
[Aloud.
I will come forth—proving all.

FREDERICK.
If you come forth—thus victorious
I will meet you—with the wreath.

LAURA.
This being granted, now I prove it
Evenly by opposite:
Since the querulous complainer
Cannot be called generous:
He who stifles his complainings
In his breast, must then appear
Generous by the very contrast.

FREDERICK.
Thine—must be the laurel, Laura;
I am—to lay it at thy feet.

LAURA.
Thine—is the praise—'twas thine idea—
I will be—found that praise to give.—
“Thine I am,” he said;—what rapture!

Aside.
FREDERICK,
aside.
“Thine I will be,” she said—what joy!

FABIO,
aside.
'Gad! I believe they're both Freemasons,
And understand each other well.

FLERIDA.
Then it seems the whole conclusion
I can draw from what you say
Is, that he who hoards his feelings
Is the liberal person.

THE TWO.
Yes.

FLERIDA.
Then supposing that I tell thee,
Frederick, that I do not know
What I know, and you know also,
Do not fear to see me then;
Come and see me at all moments,
Being sure that there is naught
That can waken my resentment
Or resuscitate your fear.
Half is said, and half is silent—
'Tis sufficient;—Laura, come.

[Exit.
LAURA.
Frederick!

FREDERICK.
Speak, divinest Laura!

LAURA.
What is said is said.

[Exit.
FREDERICK.
'Tis well:
Fabio, tell me how it happens,
When I thought to meet her frowns,
Fair Flerida smiled upon me?

FABIO.
Think now what it is to find you
Passionate and peevish, when
I expected all good humour;
'Tis a case in point: but I
Can an other reason offer.

FREDERICK.
Do so.

FABIO.
That Macárandóna
Of the sun and rosy light
Which you told her of.

FREDERICK.
A truce
Now to idle jests; get ready
Horses for two persons, quick!

FABIO.
This appears to me but right:—
Now that you have celebrated
At Macárandón, to go
And say mass at Ageré.

FREDERICK.
Cease! and have the horses waiting
Near the path:—Flerida, fair—
[Aside.
May your haughty soul forgive me—
Noble lady, pardon, pray;—
Since to this, a woman ever
Is exposed, who doth avow
Love for any man she knoweth
Doth another lady love.

[Exit.
FABIO.
To-day, that I have so much news,
Must I be compelled to practise
More than usual silence? no:
For it were a cruel pity
Thus to let a secret rot
In the bosom, being therefore
Of no use to man or beast.
For a secret done in secret,
As doth sing the Cordován,
Must have vent, and by confinement
Smelleth bad and does no good;
Therefore will I seek Flerida.
But there is no need of that,—
She returns:—

Enter FLERIDA.
FLERIDA,
aside.
Although I wholly
Trust to Laura, I have left her
That I may achieve the conquest
Of this cruel love alone:
But I see that Frederick is not
Here.

FABIO.
And do you wish to know
Why he is not here, Señora?

FLERIDA.
Yes; why so?

FABIO.
Because he's gone.

FLERIDA.
Where?

FABIO.
To Ageré, I fancy.

FLERIDA.
I don't understand you:

FABIO.
I
Shall not speak Macárandóna
Clearly, if you give me naught.

FLERIDA.
I desire no information,
Since this knowledge only serves
But to make us feel more keenly.

FABIO.
How! not know it? say for what
Have I been this blessed morning
More than two good hours or three,
Like a cat in ambush?

FLERIDA.
I
Only say, that you must leave me.

FABIO.
Give me nothing: listen gratis—
Only hear.

FLERIDA.
I have no heed.

FABIO.
Well I will not burst, a Dios;—
Some one I must seek, to whom
I can say that my good master
Means to give the slip to-night.

[Going.
FLERIDA.
Stay! what's this you say?

FABIO.
'Tis nothing;

FLERIDA.
Stay, and tell me what it means:—

FABIO.
I don't wish it.

FLERIDA.
See this diamond:
Take and tell.

FABIO.
Well, why should we
Be so very coy about it?
If I am a valet, and
You a woman, one is dying
To be told, and one to tell:
My master and his unknown lady
Have agreed, to-night ......

FLERIDA.
Oh! what?

FABIO.
To play the truant or the devil.

FLERIDA.
How?

FABIO.
By going; but of course
Not on foot:—for he has ordered
That I have two horses ready
Near the bridge from out the park.

FLERIDA.
At the bridge, you say?

FABIO.
The same.

FLERIDA.
This revives the old suspicion,
That his mistress must be one
Of my ladies; has he said so?

FABIO.
No, Señora, but his guest,
Who is duke of Mantua—
Gives them shelter in his kingdom.—
Glory be to God! I now
Can repose from all my labours:
Let who pleases now come hither,
I have been before him here.

[Exit.
FLERIDA.
Help me, Heaven! What's this I've heard?
Who has seen a fate more cruel?

Enter ARNESTO.
ARNESTO.
In thy name have I invited
All the noble and the fair
'Mong our cavaliers and ladies
For to-morrow.

FLERIDA.
It is well:
And your are, yourself, Arnesto,
Truly welcome, for I need
All this night your faithful service.

ARNESTO.
I am ever at your feet;
What do you command?

FLERIDA.
It seemeth
Frederick is now involved
In a very serious trouble.

ARNESTO.
And with whom?

FLERIDA.
I have not heard;
Since my only information
Is, that love has been the cause;
And that the offended party
Has to him a paper sent,
Saying, that he would await him.
Where I know not: you know well
How I value him.

ARNESTO.
And also
How he merits being so.

FLERIDA.
Should I show that I had knowledge
Of the meeting, it would only
Make the matter public.

ARNESTO.
Yes:
What, then, do you order?

FLERIDA.
Simply,
That you seek him, and without
Saying that I sent you to him,
Leave him not the whole night through;
And when he is bent on going
Forth, go forth along with him;—
If his proud impatient spirit
Should object, arrest him then,
Taking with you for that purpose
Force enough if there be need,—
So that he, until the morning,
Be kept safe the whole night through.

ARNESTO.
I shall go this very moment,
And, Señora, seek him out;—
Not an instant shall I leave him.

[Exit.
FLERIDA.
You shall learn to-day, ungrateful!
What a wild extreme of daring
Can a jealous woman reach.

[Exit

SCENE III.

—FREDERICK'S CHAMBER—EVENING.
Enter HENRY and FREDERICK: a servant places lights upon the table and retires.
FREDERICK.
Have you yet written?

HENRY.
Yes; these few
Letters, I trust, will make you find
A friendly welcome—warm and kind,
Like that I have received from you:
Just payment for a debt so just.

FREDERICK.
Thou art a sovereign prince, my lord,
And firmly to thy royal word,
My life, my honour, I entrust:
Remain with God: while I prefer,
Now that the night descends, to wait
Her coming:—to anticipate
Rather than, through delaying, err.

HENRY.
Well have you said; but will you not,
At least, allow me for a while
To attend you, if 'twere but a mile
Or so, until you leave this spot?

FREDERICK.
Excuse me, if I cannot be
So proudly companied: I swear
My very shadow now I fear;
And if I hide my love from thee,
Believe the truth with which I say,
I so respect the darling prize,
That I would hide her from all eyes,
Even mine own, this happy day.

HENRY.
You wish to go alone: confess.

FREDERICK.
'Tis so: adieu.

HENRY.
Adieu, since I
Vainly to change thy purpose, try.

A knocking is heard at the door.
FREDERICK.
Do you not hear a knocking?

HENRY.
Yes.

FREDERICK.
Pray, who is there?

ARNESTO,
entering.
'Tis I.

FREDERICK.
No doubt,
Some business drives you out so late?

ARNESTO.
Why, no; the distance was not great,
And I but came to seek you out.

FREDERICK,
aside.
To seek me?—(How I quake with fear.)
My lord, I wait your lordship's will.

ARNESTO.
They told me that you came home ill,
Depressed and low; and being near,
I thought it would be most unkind
If I unto my bed retired,
Before I had, my lord, inquired
How you your health this evening find.

FREDERICK.
May Heaven with all its choicest wealth
Your lordship's friendly care reward!
But I can tell you now, my lord,
I never felt in stronger health:
They spread a false report, in sooth,
Who told you this.

ARNESTO.
I much rejoice
To find that rumour's lying voice
Is wholly unsustained by truth.
But how did you contrive to spend
The time ere I came in?

FREDERICK.
In chat,
With Henry here, of this and that.

ARNESTO.
The conversation of a friend,
Who is with wit and sense imbued,
Who teaches with his voice and looks,
Is worth a thousand printed books.

FREDERICK.
This solemn preface bodes no good.

[Aside.
HENRY,
aside.
For Frederick's sake, I much desire
To stop the old man's long discourse;
To leave them is the proper course:
Will you allow me to retire?

ARNESTO.
Is it because I came you go?

FREDERICK.
Why, partly yes, and partly no.
Yes, for I wished to go, I own,
Before your steps did hither wend—
And no, for parting with my friend
I do not leave him now alone.

[Exit.
ARNESTO.
Adieu.

FREDERICK.
I beg you will declare
Whate'er you're anxious to confide;—
Why do you look on every side?

ARNESTO.
I'm only looking for a chair.
For, being quite unused to walking,
I feel fatigued and somewhat heated;
I think we may as well be seated
As standing, all the time we're talking.

They sit down.
FREDERICK,
aside.
Oh, heavens! was ever such assurance!
To come at such an hour as this,
When I was on the wings of bliss!
His coolness is beyond endurance!

ARNESTO.
How do you make the night pass o'er?

FREDERICK.
I sometimes at the court attend;
Whither I shall be proud to lend
My arm, and see you to your door.

ARNESTO.
'Tis rather early.

FREDERICK,
aside.
Powers that rule!
Must I then lose my life and love?

ARNESTO.
Do you play piquet?

FREDERICK,
aside.
Heavens above!
Was ever anything so cool?
No, my good lord.

[Aloud.
ARNESTO.
Being out of tune,
Depressed, I left my home to-day,
And feeling better, wish to stay,
Nor care for going home so soon.

FREDERICK.
My lord, I feel disturbed, enraged,
At being compelled to go: to-night
I have, in truth, so much to write,
That all my time shall be engaged.

He wishes to rise, but Arnesto prevents him.
ARNESTO.
Let me assist you with your task:
A good, fair, flowing hand I bring.

FREDERICK.
I could not think of such a thing!

ARNESTO.
Nay, 'tis a favour that I ask!

FREDERICK.
A very bad return 'twould be
For your great kindness and attention:
Besides, my lord, I have to mention
One reason why I wished to see
Your lordship home,—it is that one
Of my best friends I'm bound to meet
To-night, quite near your lordship's street.

ARNESTO.
I will attend you—let's be gone.
My power to serve you is not great,
But what I can I'll do; I'll wait
Outside the door till break of dawn;
Or, trust me, Frederick, tell me, is it
An assignation you have made?
If so, come on; be not afraid
That aught shall interrupt your visit.

FREDERICK.
My lord, your courage well I know,
But I must go alone; adieu.

He rises from his chair.
ARNESTO.
With you
I go to-night where'er you go.

FREDERICK.
My lord, what thus compelleth thee?

ARNESTO.
To find the cause, perhaps 'twere best
To ask the trouble of your breast.

FREDERICK,
aside.
What shall I say? ah! woe is me!—
No trouble doth my bosom hide.

[Aloud.
ARNESTO.
What it concealeth—well I know:—
And so from this thou shalt not go,
Unless by me accompanied.

FREDERICK,
aside.
Was e'er bewilderment more rare?

ARNESTO.
You seemed surprised.

FREDERICK.
I am, indeed.

ARNESTO.
Well, let us, Frederick, speak out fair:
I know a person waits you now,
By whom a message has been sent.

FREDERICK,
aside.
Will cruel fortune ne'er relent?
Can fate a sterner aspect show?

ARNESTO.
To my honour and my fame,
Having heard of it, 'twas due
To prevent this interview:—
When you recollect my name—
Governor of Parma—you
Must, upon the moment, see
That a certain duty claim
My unspotted rank and fame:
If I now could part from thee,
I would wholly fail, I fear,
In the motives that should move
An appointed judge, and prove
But a worthless cavalier:
So, by Heaven! 'tis only due
Unto both, for both agree,
That you here remain with me,
Or that I go hence with you:—
Knowing now what 'tis you seek—
What you rashly would commit,
Think you that I could permit?

FREDERICK,
aside.
Ah! can words more plainly speak?
My lord, your arguments must claim
[Aloud.
Great weight, no doubt, but do not chafe
If I insist that still are safe
Your spotless character and name;
By me they cannot be made less.

ARNESTO.
How, if you act as you intend?

FREDERICK.
First, will you graciously extend
Your kind indulgence to me?

ARNESTO.
Yes.

FREDERICK.
My birth, my blood, you recollect?

ARNESTO.
I know thy noble blood has run
Pure as the light that leaves the sun.

FREDERICK.
Trusting to this, I now expect
That you will cause the person, who
Has written, as you understand,
Also to offer me the hand.

ARNESTO.
That, Frederick, I shall gladly do,
Nor from the friendly task desist,
Until your hands together meet.

FREDERICK.
A thousand times I kiss your feet!

ARNESTO.
So tell me your antagonist,
And I shall on the instant, fly ......

FREDERICK,
aside.
Ah! me, how vainly I believed
My bliss was real!

ARNESTO.
To the aggrieved
Expectant party waiting nigh.

FREDERICK.
And can it possibly be true,
You know not yet the person?

ARNESTO.
No;
That you have quarrelled I but know,
And that your rival challenged you.

FREDERICK.
Know you no more than this?

ARNESTO.
No more.

FREDERICK.
Then I shall ......

ARNESTO.
What?

FREDERICK.
No more inquire;
Since to allow it to transpire
Who my opponent is, before
You learned it otherwise, would be
To act unlike a cavalier;
And so my duty is quite clear
To keep the engagement without thee.

ARNESTO.
Think you, my honour knows not how
Its duties also to fulfil?

FREDERICK.
Indeed, I know it well, but still
Mine is more pressing: longer now
Thus to absent myself, will lay
My peace, my honour in the dust.

ARNESTO.
Well, notwithstanding all, I must
Prevent this meeting.

FREDERICK.
How?

ARNESTO.
This way:
Ho! there.

Enter some Soldiers.
SOLDIER.
My lord?

ARNESTO.
These doors secure.
I give them to thy charge this night:
Yield yourself prisoner; nor fight
[To Fred.
Against your fate.

FREDERICK,
aside.
Alas! how sure
Have my misfortunes ever been!—
With a less numerous guard, you may
Be quite secure!—O Heavens! to-day
Naught but dead hopes and joys are seen!

ARNESTO.
As matters are, I well may be
Perfectly safe; but still would I
Caution you not to attempt to fly,
As death will be the penalty.

[Exit with Soldiers; Frederick remains alone.
FREDERICK.
Ah! how little would appear
The threatened vengeance of this man,
If no other risk I ran—
If I had not more real fear:—
For, O Heavens!—to force my way
Out of this prison now, would prove
A public scandal to my love;—
But any longer here to stay
Ignorant how have matters gone
With Laura, even that pain exceeds;—
I know a secret way that leads
From this house to the neighbouring one.
Laura, wait—with panting breath,
Love, thy longed-for presence gains,
Though thy father threatens chains—
Though Flerida threatens death!

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

—THE GARDEN NEAR THE BRIDGE— NIGHT.
LAURA.
Oh! thou cold, fatal shadow of the night,
The cradle and the sepulchre of light;
If all the crimes of love, from age to age,
Were written on thy dark and mourning page,
Then would as many tales be read on high,
As there are sapphire planets in the sky.
There, too, perchance, my destiny is drawn,
To fade and vanish in the coming dawn.
There in thy shining annals may be read
The fate of one like me, who thus doth tread
Blindly the jealous shadows of despair.
But thy impartial pages would declare
The cause, and thus to every eye discover
A tyrant father, and a hated lover;
A jealous mistress too. But oh, dread fear!
My love, my life, my lord, my Frederick dear,
Why dost thou now delay? why make this wild unrest?
Alas! how fear afflicts the expectant breast!—
What can have happened to him? Ah! my woes,
How soon a fatal reason you suppose—
That he has changed (O pitying Heavens above!)
Because Flerida has declared her love:—
Were it not better that you should suggest
No fault like this could stain so pure a breast—
And that some accident must interfere
To hold him back, and keep me waiting here?—
But not with ease, the mind its fear resigns,
To trust the good and doubt the evil signs:—
How does it happen, let me ask, that joy
Lives in our hearts less honoured than annoy?
It cannot be, when anxious questions rise,
That joy alone can answer love with lies;
While grief's foreboding ever seemeth true,
We know not why they do so, but they do.

Enter FLERIDA, without perceiving Laura.
FLERIDA.
Fabio told me that his master
Bade him in the park await him;
Which doth clearly prove his mistress
Dwelleth somewhere in the palace.
Laura went to rest so early,
That I had not time to order
Her attendance in the garden;
And as I could trust none other,
I have been compelled to venture
Here alone, for fear Arnesto
May have failed in what I ordered.
Ah! if I may trust the lustre,
Shining through the trembling branches,
From the azure planets yonder,
I can recognise some person.
Who is there?

LAURA,
aside.
It is Flerida!
Now my subtle wit assist me:—
Tell me who is that that's waiting?
[Aloud.
For her highness has commanded
I should learn who is the person
That, protected by the darkness,
In the precincts of her palace,
Treats her with so much dishonour.

FLERIDA.
Laura, do not speak so loudly.

LAURA.
Who are you?

FLERIDA.
I am Flerida.

LAURA.
You, Señora? how does't happen
That at such an hour I see you?

FLERIDA.
Having all the day forgotten
To request you—

LAURA,
aside.
How I tremble!

FLERIDA.
To come hither, I considered
It were best to come myself here.

LAURA.
Oh! you wrong me, dear Señora:
Is it not enough to tell me
Once the object of your wishes,
Without giving me each moment
Special orders for my guidance?
Furthermore, I had this evening
Other reasons for my coming.

FLERIDA.
What were these?

LAURA.
Beneath my window,
Which upon the park doth open,
I could hear the tramp of horses;
And the novelty induced me
To descend and search the garden.

FLERIDA.
What you tell me is in keeping
With my private information;
For your zeal I'm very grateful.
Did you in the park discover
Anything that seemed peculiar?

LAURA.
I saw nothing whatsoever
Of the person that I looked for.
But you can retire, Señora,
Now that I am here; believe me
Nothing shall escape my searching.

FLERIDA.
Be it so, but you remain here.

LAURA.
Certainly.

[Some one knocks.
FLERIDA.
What means this knocking?

LAURA.
Many times the wind deceives one.

[Knocking repeated.
FLERIDA.
This is surely no deception:
Open and reply.

LAURA.
Señora?

FLERIDA.
Open; and to give you courage,
I myself shall stand beside you.
We shall learn who seeks admission,
And the name of her he seeketh,
If he should but chance to name her.

LAURA.
But my voice is too familiar.

FLERIDA.
You can slightly change your accent—
Come, I say.

LAURA,
aside.
Oh! never, never,
Was there such a cruel precept!
How shall I support the double
Part assigned me in this drama,
When the night forbids my using
Our ingenious secret cipher?

FLERIDA.
Why thus tremble?

LAURA.
Lest they know me
When I speak.

FLERIDA.
What groundless terror!
Come, I say—

LAURA.
Who's there?

[Opens the window of the trellis.
FREDERICK, within.
FREDERICK.
A wretched,
Dying man, divinest Laura!

LAURA.
Did I not declare, Señora,
That I would be known the moment
That I spoke—you see't has happened
At the first word that I uttered.

FLERIDA.
Yes, and that is little wonder;
I too would have known you, Laura.

LAURA.
Cavalier, since you do know me,
You do also know for certain
That I'm not the wished-for lady,
Whom your hopes are here expecting—
Go away, and thank your fortune
That my much-offended honour
Takes no deeper mode of vengeance
Than to close the window on you.

[Closes the window.
FREDERICK.
My life, my soul, my dearest Laura,
My love, indeed, I am not guilty—
My tardiness was forced upon me—
Listen, lady, though you kill me,
Or I will myself destroy me!

LAURA,
to Flerida.
Why do you compel my speaking?
When just now I told you—

FLERIDA.
Silence!

LAURA.
If my father, or Lisardo
Could have known.

FLERIDA.
Speak not so loudly.

LAURA,
aside.
Who e'er felt so strange a torture?

FREDERICK.
Hear me, though you kill me after—
Once again, my beauteous Laura.

[Flerida opens the window.
FLERIDA.
What then would you wish to tell me?

FREDERICK.
That Flerida's jealous anger
Sent to me your sire, Arnesto,
Who, by force of arms, detained me
All the evening in my chamber,
So that till this moment, dearest,
I could not come here.—Why linger?
In the park our horses tarry.
From the duke I carry letters,
Which will gain us full protection
In his royal court of Mantua.
Come with me—what, though the morning
Glimmers o'er the eastern mountains—
Once with thee upon the journey,
I shall fear no interruption.

LAURA,
aside.
If a word he could have added,
He would not have stopped! I perish!

FLERIDA.
Frederick, it is too near morning
Now to think of going with you;
It is better you should enter
Once again your prison chamber,
And, perhaps a kinder fortune
May befriend us on to-morrow.

FREDERICK.
Thou, my life, my soul, for ever
Shall I study to obey thee;
But thou art not angry with me?

FLERIDA.
Not with thee, but with my planet!
Now adieu!

[Closes the grating.
FREDERICK.
Adieu!

[Exit.
FLERIDA.
So, Laura ......

LAURA.
Lady!

FLERIDA.
Tell me naught,
For of nothing do I ask you:—
Jealousy will strike me dead!

[Aside.
LAURA.
But consider ......

FLERIDA.
Lead the way;
Here we can remain no longer.

LAURA,
aside.
How I tremble at her vengeance!

FLERIDA.
I shall show the world, I am
Who I am:—now let us enter.

LAURA,
aside.
Ah! unhappy:—since to-day
Every hope of mine hath perished!

The garden-gate is opened, and ARNESTO, FABIO, and the guard enter. Day begins to dawn.
FLERIDA.
But who opes the garden-gate
At this early hour of morning?

LAURA.
If the light, which yet doth tremble
Doubtfully, doth not deceive,
One among them is my father.

FLERIDA.
Yes, 'tis he; let us remain,—
To find out with what intention
Thus he comes so early.

LAURA,
aside.
Heaven!
Guard my life, my fame, my honour.

[They retire.
ARNESTO.
Fabio, you have now to tell me
With what purpose you were waiting
With two horses in the park.

FABIO.
First your lordship will take notice
That I never in my lifetime
Ever did a thing on purpose—
Being a very different person
From a man of purpose.

ARNESTO.
What
Kept you waiting there, I ask you?

FABIO.
Why, as I would, some time longer,
Sit at table with my master,
I must do as he commands.

ARNESTO.
Say, with whom did Frederick quarrel
Yesterday?

FABIO.
It must have been
With his lady, since the period
Of her meeting him is past.

ARNESTO.
I will make you tell me truly
All you know. Do not imagine
That you can escape me.

FABIO.
So
Said a doctor once, when hunting,
To a man who came to say,
Look! Sir, there a hare is lying
In its bed.—Your worship lend
Me your arquebuse to shoot her,
E'er she rises from her form:—
In a loud voice thus he answer'd,—
Have no fear that she will rise,
Since she's lying in her bed,
And the doctor called to see her—
Think you she will e'er get up?

ARNESTO.
Fabio, I am glad to find you
In so light and gay a mood.

FABIO.
'Tis my nature.

ARNESTO,
perceiving the Duchess.
Ah! Señora,
Art thou here?

FLERIDA.
My griefs have drawn me
To the garden: what is this?

ARNESTO.
Anxious to obey your orders,
Frederick, I, this night confined,
Since I could by no manœuvre
Keep him quietly at home.
Having left him safely guarded
In his house, without the danger
Of his making his escape ......

FLERIDA.
Ay! 'tis evident how strictly
He was guarded.

ARNESTO.
I went seeking
Through the park, to meet the man
Who was waiting for his coming,
And the only one I found,
Was his servant, Fabio, standing
With two horses; wishing then
That the news of his confinement
Would not be divulged by him,
I desired to bring the fellow
To my quarters, through this gate
(Since a master-key I carry),
And secure him there.

FABIO.
What crime
Is it to be found, your worship,
Holding horses?

ARNESTO.
What must I
Do with him and with his servant?

FLERIDA.
You must here bring Frederick,
Since my only motive was
To prevent a great misfortune;
And as I, or more, or less
Know enough of its occasion,
I can bear to see him now:
And you may set free the servant.

FABIO.
I a thousand kisses tender
To your feet.

ARNESTO.
I bring him here.

[Exit, with guard.
LAURA.
Lady! what is thy intention?
Oh! be kind to my good name!—

FLERIDA.
Let me, Laura ......

Enter HENRY.
HENRY.
If a stranger
May presume to ask a boon
Of your kind consideration,—
Frederick's pardon let it be,
And his freedom too.

FLERIDA.
'Tis nothing
That you ask me, since in all things
He is free as thought could wish:—
But, of this inform me, Henry,
Have you had to-day a letter
From the duke?

HENRY.
Señora, no.

FLERIDA.
Then, I have.

HENRY,
aside.
A strange invention!

FLERIDA.
And in it the duke has written,
That your quarrel is arranged,
And all difficulties settled;—
So that you, to-morrow morning,
May from Parma go, since naught
Needs your longer stay in Parma.

HENRY.
Though, Señora, from the duke,
I, indeed, received no letter,
I have had one from a friend,
Which doth tell me, not too quickly
To go hence, for still my dearest
Hopes are all unrealized.

FLERIDA.
That is what your friend has written,
This again is what I say—
That you go to-morrow morning
Forth from Parma; nothing needs
Here your stay, and there you're needed.

HENRY,
aside.
What a courteous style, O Heavens!
Doth Flerida use in driving
Me from all my hope and her!

Enter LISARDO.
LISARDO.
Let me kiss your hand, O sovereign
Goddess of this verdant sphere!—
Let me kiss the hand of Laura,
As the earnest of my joy—
Since the hoped-for dispensation,
Which for ages hath my love
Long awaited, in these letters
Has arrived!

FLERIDA,
aside.
Most opportunely
Has it come ......

LAURA,
aside.
O final sorrow!

FLERIDA.
Since to-day I have ......

Enter ARNESTO and FREDERICK.
ARNESTO.
Señora,
Here is Frederick.

FREDERICK.
I wait
Your commands, your highness.

FLERIDA.
Give
Here a husband's hand to Laura,
For I conquer now myself;
And the world may know the reason.

ARNESTO and LISARDO.
What say you?

FLERIDA.
I am who I am.

ARNESTO.
But Señora, thou forgettest
That my honour thou dost wrong?

LISARDO.
Do you not reflect, Señora,
That you wrong my fondest love?

FLERIDA.
This, Lisardo, this, Arnesto,
Both of them require.

ARNESTO.
And this—
Did my honour need new reasons—
Why I never could consent—
Were itself even o'er sufficient:
Never shall the voice of rumour
Dare to whisper, dare to utter,
That for any secret reason
Did my Laura, Frederick wed.

FREDERICK.
Be it public, be it secret,
Have you aught against me?

ARNESTO.
No:—
'Tis enough that I dislike it.

FREDERICK.
It may be enough for grief,
Not enough though to offend you:—
You besides have made a promise
Laura's hand to give me now.

ARNESTO.
I?

FREDERICK.
'Tis true.

FLERIDA.
And when?

FREDERICK.
Last evening
In my chamber, when you said,
That you would induce the person
Who had written unto me,
And who then was waiting for me,
To present me with her hand:—
It was Laura that was waiting:—
That for thee is quite enough.

LISARDO.
Yes, for him, but not for me!—
For my life shall not be backward
To defend its dearest rights.

[Puts his hand to his sword.
FLERIDA.
How's this?

FREDERICK.
And mine too, to sustain them.

ARNESTO.
I am at thy side, Lisardo.

HENRY,
to Frederick.
And I at thine.

FLERIDA,
aside.
O bitter pain!
But if love has learned to cause it,
Honour be the remedy:—
If—because it is my pleasure—
[Aloud.
My command is not enough,
Let it be enough to tell thee,
That at Frederick's side doth stand
The duke of Mantua.

ARNESTO.
Who, Señora?

HENRY.
I, who serving fair Flerida,
Was an inmate of his house:—
I, who Frederick and Laura
Thus am happy to defend.

FLERIDA.
And I also, that the world
May behold my moderation,
Even my passion doth exceed.

ARNESTO.
Since, Lisardo, duke and duchess
Thus protect them, thus defend them,
Nothing more my honour needeth,—
I must favour them likewise.

LISARDO.
Though the loss to me is mighty,
Equal is the consolation,
That I see her heart's affections
Ever were to Frederick given.

HENRY
to Flerida.
And I, too, thus humbly kneeling
At thy feet, implore thee, lady,
To reward my love, my pains.

FLERIDA.
Take my hand: for I am anxious,
Once, of who I was, forgetful,
Now to think of who I am.

LAURA.
Heaven my dearest hope fulfilleth!

FREDERICK.
Now my bliss, completeth heaven!

FABIO.
Oh! how many times! how often
Was I on the point of saying
That the mistress of my master
Was the lovely lady, Laura:
But the Secret now is uttered
Out in words—as is the title
Of our play, whose faults to pardon
Humbly at thy feet we pray.