 | Life is a Dream |  |
91
Scene VIII.
Rosaura, who detains Clotaldo.Rosaura.
Though the trumpets from afar
Echo in thy valorous breast,
Hear me, list to my request,
For I know that all is war.
Well thou knowest that I came
Poor to Poland, sad, dejected;
And that graciously protected,
Thou thy pity let me claim.
It was thy command, ah, me!
I should live here thus disguised,
Striving, as thy words advised
(Hiding all my jealousy),
To avoid Astolfo's sight;
But he saw me, and though seeing,
With Estrella, he—false being!—
Converse holds this very night
In a garden bower. The key
I have taken, and will show
Where, by entering, with a blow
Thou canst end my misery.
Thus, then, daring, bold, and strong,
Thou my honour wilt restore;
Strike, and hesitate no more,
Let his death revenge my wrong.
Clotaldo.
It is true, my inclination
Since thou first wert seen by me,
Was to strive and do for thee
(Be thy tears my attestation)
All my life could do to serve thee.
What I first was forced to press,
Was that thou should'st change thy dress;
Lest if chancing to observe thee
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By appearances so strong
Led astray, the Duke might wrong
By a thought thy sex and age.
Meanwhile various projects held me
In suspense, oft pondering o'er
How thy honour to restore;
Though (thy honour so compelled me)
I Astolfo's life should take—
Wild design that soon took wing—
Yet, as he was not my king,
It no terror could awake.
I his death was seeking, when
Sigismund with vengeful aim
Sought for mine; Astolfo came,
And despising what most men
Would a desperate peril deem,
Stood in my defence; his bearing,
Nigh to rashness in its daring,
Showed a valour most extreme.
How then, think, could I, whose breath
Is his gift, in murderous strife,
For his giving me my life,
Strive in turn to give him death?
And thus, grateful, yet aggrieved,
By two opposite feelings driven,
Seeing it to thee have given,
And from him have it received,
Doubting this, and that believing,
Half revenging, half forgiving,
If to thee I'm drawn by giving,
I to him am by receiving;
Thus bewildered and beset,
Vainly seeks my love a way,
Since I have a debt to pay,
Where I must exact a debt.
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It is settled, I believe,
As all men of spirit know,
That 'tis glorious to bestow,
But a meanness to receive.
Well, admitting this to be,
Then thy thanks should not be his,
Even supposing that he is
One who gave thy life to thee;
As the gift of life was thine,
And from him the taking came,
In his case the act was shame,
And a glorious act in mine.
Thus by him thou art aggrieved,
And by me even complimented,
Since to me thou hast presented
What from him thou hast received:
Then all hesitation leaving,
Thou to guard my fame shouldst fly,
Since my honour is as high
As is giving to receiving.
Clotaldo.
Though it seems a generous fever
In a noble heart to give,
Still an equal fire may live
In the heart of the receiver.
Heartlessness is something hateful,
I would boast a liberal name;
Thus I put my highest claim
In the fact of being grateful.
Then to me that title leave,—
Gentle birth breeds gentleness;
For the honour is no less
To bestow than to receive.
Rosaura.
I received my life from thee,
But for thee I now were dead;
Still it was thyself that said
No insulted life could be
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Nought have I received from thee,
For the life no life could be
That was given me by thy hand.
But if thou wouldst first be just
Ere being generous in this way
(As I heard thyself once say),
Thou wilt give me life I trust,
Which thou hast not yet; and thus
Giving will enhance thee more,
For if liberal before,
Thou wilt then be generous.
Clotaldo.
Conquered by thy argument,
Liberal I first will be.
I, Rosaura, will to thee
All my property present;
In a convent live; by me
Has the plan been weighed some time,
For escaping from a crime
Thou wilt there find sanctuary;
For so many ills present them
Through the land on every side,
That being nobly born, my pride
Is to strive and not augment them.
By the choice that I have made,
Loyal to the land I'll be,
I am liberal with thee,
And Astolfo's debt is paid;
Choose then, nay, let honour, rather,
Choose for thee, and for us two,
For, by Heaven! I could not do
More for thee were I thy father!—
Rosaura.
Were that supposition true,
I might strive and bear this blow;
But not being my father, no.
Clotaldo.
What then dost thou mean to do?
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Kill the Duke.
Clotaldo.
A gentle dame,
Who no father's name doth know,
Can she so much valour show?
Rosaura.
Yes.
Clotaldo.
What drives thee on?
Rosaura.
My fame.
Clotaldo.
Think that in the Duke thou'lt see. ...
Rosaura.
Honour all my wrath doth rouse.
Clotaldo.
Soon thy king—Estrella's spouse.
Rosaura.
No, by Heaven! it must not be.
Clotaldo.
It is madness.
Rosaura.
Yes, I see it.
Clotaldo.
Conquer it.
Rosaura.
I can't o'erthrow it.
Clotaldo.
It will cost thee. ...
Rosaura.
Yes, I know it.
Clotaldo.
Life and honour.
Rosaura.
Well, so be it.
Clotaldo.
What wouldst have?
Rosaura.
My death.
Clotaldo.
Take care!
It is spite.
Rosaura.
'Tis honour's cure.
Clotaldo.
'Tis wild fire.
Rosaura.
That will endure.
Clotaldo.
It is frenzy.
Rosaura.
Rage, despair.
Clotaldo.
Can there then be nothing done
This blind rage to let pass by?
Rosaura.
No.
Clotaldo.
And who will help thee?
Rosaura.
I.
Clotaldo.
Is there then no remedy?
Rosaura.
None.
Clotaldo.
Think of other means whereby. ...
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Other means would seal my fate.
[Exit.
Clotaldo.
If 'tis so, then, daughter, wait,
For together we shall die.
[Exit.
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