Part 4 (1/2)

Hast nought to say? art dumb?

XAINT. (_reads the letter._) I own 'tis strange.

That she should supersede thee in command Is more than I had thought.

DU N. I understand The cause too well! Charles had not dared insult me Had I been other than I am.

XAINT. Been other!

Who honour'd as thyself? Whose fame fills Europe?

DU N. I tell thee truth, and this the scourge that lashes me.

The bar of b.a.s.t.a.r.dy is on my s.h.i.+eld; The bar of alienation, mock alliance, Pride trampling on the outraged laws of decency.

Witness me, Heaven! I would prefer to date Honest descent from humblest parentage, Than trace within these veins the highest blood Illegal mixed.

XAINT. Think on thy own brave deeds-- Deeds that----

DU N. More widely spread the guilt that shames me, Spreading the name of b.a.s.t.a.r.d through the world.

XAINT. Why, you've looked on good till 'tis become evil.

Men love distinction, or in camp or state; And he has fortune won whose kin may serve As staves to mount ambition's proudest ladder.

DU N. I have no kin. What owe I to their love That I should claim them such? The life I have?

The debt is cancelled by the shame entailed.

To me my country is both sire and mother; And I for her such gallant deeds will work, That should I ever boast the name of father, My children shall exult in their descent, And swear by France, by honour, and their sire.

XAINT. No more! She comes! Now smooth thy ruffled brow; And let thy courtesy, at least, ne'er blush For thy neglect.

DU N. I will not meet her here.

If I be mocked, 't shall be where all may see it, And learn with me to ridicule the cheat.

[_Exit._

SCENE VI.--_English Camp._

EARLS OF SUFFOLK, WARWICK, ARLINGTON, JOHN TALBOT.

SUF. Our work is near its end. Yon city's fall Completes our triumph and ensures repose.

JOHN T. Alas!

WAR. How! does this cause sorrow?

JOHN T. Yes, truly.

WAR. And why? To me the prospect is most welcome.

JOHN T. Because, upon a course of glorious years, In tented fields, you proudly may revert; But I----

SUF. Thou'rt spared from sights that might have shocked Thy wiser manhood. War is a n.o.ble game, But full of much humanity deplores.

JOHN T. But I was never born for dull, still paths; The trumpet's clang, and the loud din of battle Suit me.