Part 48 (2/2)
Now grant me patience! Here's a man declares Oracularly in another's case-- Sees the true value and the false, for them-- Nay, bids them see it, and they straight do see.
You called my court's love worthless--so it turned: I threw away as dross my heap of wealth, And here you stickle for a piece or two!
First--has she seen you?
_Val._ Yes.
_Duch._ She loves you, then.
_Val._ One flash of hope burst; then succeeded night: And all's at darkest now. Impossible!
_Duch._ We'll try: you are--so to speak--my subject yet?
_Val._ As ever--to the death.
_Duch._ Obey me, then!
_Val._ I must.
_Duch._ Approach her, and ... no! first of all Get more a.s.surance. ”My instructress,” say, ”Was great, descended from a line of kings, ”And even fair”--(wait why I say this folly)-- ”She said, of all men, none for eloquence, ”Courage, and (what cast even these to shade) ”The heart they sprung from,--none deserved like him ”Who saved her at her need: if she said this, ”Why should not one I love, say?”
_Val._ Heaven--this hope-- Oh, lady, you are filling me with fire!
_Duch._ Say this!--nor think I bid you cast aside One touch of all the awe and reverence; Nay, make her proud for once to heart's content That all this wealth of heart and soul's her own!
Think you are all of this,--and, thinking it, ... (Obey!)
_Val._ I cannot choose.
_Duch._ Then, kneel to her!
(_Valence sinks on his knee._) I dream!
_Val._ Have mercy! yours, unto the death,-- I have obeyed. Despise, and let me die!
_Duch._ Alas, sir, is it to be ever thus?
Even with you as with the world? I know This morning's service was no vulgar deed Whose motive, once it dares avow itself, Explains all done and infinitely more, So, takes the shelter of a n.o.bler cause.
Your service names its true source,--loyalty!
The rest's unsaid again. The d.u.c.h.ess bids you, Rise, sir! The Prince's words were in debate.
_Val._ (_Rising._) Rise? Truth, as ever, lady, comes from you!
I should rise--I who spoke for Cleves, can speak For Man--yet tremble now, who stood firm then.
I laughed--for 'twas past tears--that Cleves should starve With all hearts beating loud the infamy, And no tongue daring trust as much to air: Yet here, where all hearts speak, shall I be mute?
Oh, lady, for your sake look on me!
On all I am, and have, and do--heart, brain, Body and soul,--this Valence and his gifts!
I was proud once: I saw you, and then sank, So that each, magnified a thousand times, Were nothing to you--but such nothingness, Would a crown gild it, or a sceptre prop, A treasure speed, a laurel-wreath enhance?
What is my own desert? But should your love Have ... there's no language helps here ... singled me,-- Then--oh, that wild word ”then!”--be just to love, In generosity its attribute!
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