Part 7 (1/2)
”Do you? Wise judges are we of each other.
'Woo, wed, and bear her home! So runs the bond To which I sold myself,--and then--what then?
Away?--I will not look beyond the hour.
Like children in the dark, I dare not face The shades that gather sound me in the distance.
You envy me--I thank you--you may read My joy upon my brow--I thank you, sir!
If hearts had audible language, you would hear What mine would answer when you talk of ENVY!”
ACT III.--SCENE I.
The exterior of the Golden Leon--time, twilight. The moon rises during the scene.
Enter Landlord and his Daughter from the Inn.
Land. Ha--ha--ha! Well, I never shall get over it. Our Claude is a prince with a vengeance now. His carriage breaks down at my inn--ha--ha!
Janet. And what airs the young lady gives herself! ”Is this the best room you have, young woman?” with such a toss of the head.
Land. Well, get in, Janet: get in and see to the supper: the servants must sup before they go back. [Exeunt.
Enter BEAUSEANT and GLAVIS.
Beau. You see our princess is lodged at last--one stage more, and she'll be at her journey's end--the beautiful palace at the foot of the Alps!--ha--ha!
Gla. Faith, I pity the poor Pauline--especially if she's going to sup at the Golden Lion [makes a wry face]. I shall never forget that cursed ragout.
Enter MELNOTTE from the Inn.
Beau. Your servant, my prince; you reigned most worthily, I condole with you on your abdication. I am afraid that your highness's retinue are not very faithful servants. I think they will quit you in the moment of your fall 'tis the fate of greatness. But you are welcome to your fine clothes--also the diamond snuff-box, which Louis XIV. gave to your great-great-grandmother.
Gla. And the ring, with which your grandfather the Dodge of Venice married the Adriatic.
Mel. I have kept my oath, gentlemen--say, have I kept my oath?
Beau. Most religiously.
Mel. Then you have done with me and mine--away with you!
Beau. How, knave?
Mel. Look you, our bond is over. Proud conquerors that we are, we have won the victory over a simple girl compromised her honor--embittered her life--blasted, in their very blossoms, all the flowers of her youth.
This is your triumph,--it is my shame! [Turns to BEAUSEANT.] Enjoy thy triumph, but not in my sight. I was her betrayer--I am her protector!
Cross but her path--one word of scorn, one look of insult--nay, but one quiver of that mocking lip, and I will teach thee that bitter word thou hast graven eternally in this heart--Repentance.
Beau. His highness is most grandiloquent.
Mel. Highness me no more! Beware! Remorse has made me a new being. Away with you! There is danger in me. Away!
Gla. [aside]. He's an awkward fellow to deal with: come away, Beauseant.