Part 8 (2/2)

Am I a monster, then, to will this wrong?

Nay, but a lovesick woman only, willing To dare all for her pa.s.sion. Though I loathe Those crooked ways, yet love, despite myself, Drives me relentless onward.

_Enter_ GYCIA.

Dearest lady, Why art thou thus cast down? Some lovers' quarrel, To be interred with kisses?

_Gycia._ Nay, Irene, This is no lovers' quarrel.

_Ire._ Tell me, Gycia, What was the cause?

_Gycia._ The King of Bosphorus Is ailing, and desires to see his son, Who fain would go to him.

_Ire._ And thou refusedst To let thy lover go?

[_Laughs mockingly._

_Gycia._ Nay, 'twas not so; But politic reasons of the State forbad The Prince's absence.

_Ire._ Well, whate'er the cause, The old man fain would see his son, and thou Deniedst.

_Gycia._ I denied him what the State Denied him, and no more.

_Ire._ The State denied him!

What does it profit thee to be the daughter Of Lamachus, if thou art fettered thus In each wish of thy heart? If it were I, And he my love, I would break all bonds that came Between me and my love's desire.

_Gycia._ Irene, Thou know'st not what thou say'st.

_Ire._ It may be so; _I_ do not love by halves.

_Gycia._ I do not need That thou shouldst tutor me, who am so blest In love's requital. I have nought to learn From thee, who bearest unrequited love For one thou wilt not name.

_Ire._ Wouldst thou that I Should name him? Nay, it were best not, believe me, For me and thee.

_Gycia._ Why, what were it to me, Thou luckless woman?

_Ire._ What were it to thee?

More than thou knowest, much.

_Gycia._ And therefore 'tis That thou dost dare to tutor me to deal With the man I love, my husband.

_Ire._ Gycia, Love is a tyrannous power, and brooks no rival Beside his throne. Dost thou, then, love indeed, Who art so filled with duty?

_Gycia._ Do I love?

Ay, from the depths of my enamoured heart!

I am all his own to make or break at will.

Only my duty to the State my mother And the thrice-blessed memory of my sire Forbids that I should sink my soul in his, Or, loving, grow unworthy. But, indeed, Thou pleadest his cause as if thyself did love him.

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