SCENE I.—_A Room in the Palace.

_PRINCE and DON ARIAS._

_Ar._ How well the night went off! did not the music, The lights, the dances, and the ladies’ eyes, Divert your Grace’s sadness?

_Prince._ Rather, Arias, Doubled it. Whithersoever Donna Anna moved, My eyes, that ever follow’d hers along, Saw them pursue Don Cesar through the crowd And only rest on him; I cursed him then, And then excused him, as the judge should do Whose heart is yearning with the guilt he damns.

_Ar._ Where will this passion end?

_Prince._ I think in death, Led by the fatal secret you have told me.

_Ar._ I err’d, my lord; but all shall yet be well. But hush! Don Cesar comes.

_Prince._ Make out of him How sits the wind of love. Behind this screen I’ll listen. (_Hides._)

_Enter CESAR._

_Ar._ Well, Don Cesar?

_Ces._ Nay, _ill_, Don Cesar! Misfortune on misfortune! ev’n good fortune Forswears her nature but to scowl on me! Led by her letter, as the shades of night Were drawing in, I went—not now to stand Under her lattice with the cold, cold moon For company, but in the very room My lady warms and lightens with her presence! There when we two had just begun to whisper The first sweet words of love, upon a sudden As by some evil spirit prompted, her brother Comes in, and on some frivolous pretext Carries her to the palace. I suspect He knows my purpose.

_Ar._ Nay—

_Prince_ (_listening_). He little thinks His evil spirit is so near him now.

_Ces._ Ay, and dead weary of these sicken’d hopes And lost occasions, I have resolved to break Through disappointment and impediment, And turning secret love to open suit, Secure at once her honour, and her brother’s, And my own everlasting happiness, By asking her fair hand, fore all the world!

[_Exit._

_Ar._ You heard, my lord?

_Prince_ (_advancing_). And if he ask her hand, Felix will grant it as assuredly As I would my own sister’s! Oh, Don Arias, What now?

_Ar._ Don Felix comes.

_Prince._ There’s yet one way, He comes in time—Felix!

_Enter FELIX._

_Fel._ My lord!

_Prince._ Come hither. You came in time—were present in my thoughts Before your coming. Hark you. I have long Long’d to requite your many services, By more substantial meed than empty breath, Too oft, they say, the end of princes’ favour. Much I design for you; but in mean time, As some foretaste and earnest of my love, A kinsman, a near kinsman of my own, Has set his heart upon the lady Anna, Your sister; fain would have her hand in marriage: And I, with your good liking, Have promised it to him.

_Fel._ Oh, my good lord, Your favour overpowers me!

_Prince._ Much content Both for his sake, so near of my own blood, (His letters show how deep his passion is,) And yours, if you approve it.

_Fel._ Did I not, Your will would be my law.

_Prince._ Why this is well then. We’ll talk it over at our leisure; meanwhile, For certain reasons, let this contract be Between ourselves alone—you taking care To pledge your sister’s hand no other way.

_Fel._ Oh, trust to me, my lord—Heav’n watch above Your Highness!

_Prince_ (_aside_). Oh mad end of foolish love!

[_Exit._

_Fel._ I’ll straight away, And tell my sister of the happiness Awaits her. And may be shall learn of her How my own suit prospers with Nisida, The Prince’s sister, which his present favour Now blows upon so fairly. Cesar!

_Enter CESAR._

_Ces._ Well found at last. Oh, Felix!

_Fel._ What is ’t now? Your heart seems labouring.

_Ces._ Yours must lighten it. You know, Don Felix, how by blood and birth I am a gentleman—not less, I trust, In breeding and attainment; my estate Sufficient for my birth—nurst by the Prince In his own palace from my earliest years, Until, howe’er unworthy of such honour, Received into his inmost heart and council: So far at least fitted for state affairs, As ever given from my earliest youth Rather to letters than to arms. Enough: You know all this, and know, or ought to know, How much I am your friend?

_Fel._ I do believe it.

_Ces._ Yea, Felix, and would fain that friendship knit By one still closer tie—Have you not guess’d, By many a sign more unmistakeable Than formal declaration, that I love— Presumptuously perhaps—but that I love One of your house. Which saying all is said: For she is all your house who calls you ‘Brother.’

_Fel._ Cesar, Heav’n knows how faithfully my heart Answers to yours in all; how much I prize The honour you would do me. Would to God That I had seen the signs of love you talk of, Pointing this way; there is, I do assure you, No man in all the world to whom more gladly I would ally my sister and myself; But I did not. I grieve that it is so, But dare not cancel what is now, too late, Irrevocably agreed on with another.

_Ces._ By this ‘too late,’ I think you only mean To tantalize my too late declaration. If that be your intent, I am well punisht Already; be content with my contrition. You say you love me; and would well desire To see me wed your sister; seal at once My happiness, nor chill the opening day, Nor my love’s blossom, by a lingering ‘_Yea_.’

_Fel._ Indeed, indeed, my Cesar, not to revenge Delay of speech, or insufficient token, But with repeated sorrow I repeat, My sister’s hand is pledged beyond recall, And to another; whom, for certain reasons, I dare not name, not even to herself, As yet—

_Ces._ If I survive, ’tis that fate knows How much more terrible is life than death! Don Felix, you have well revenged yourself Upon my vain ambition, speech delay’d, And signs that you would not articulate; But let my fate be as it will, may hers, Hers, yea, and his whose life you link to hers, Be so indissolubly prosperous, That only death forget to envy them! Farewell.

_Fel._ Farewell then: and remember, Cesar, Let not this luckless business interrupt Our long and loving intimacy.

_Ces._ Nay. It shall not, cannot, Felix, come what may.

[_Exeunt severally._

_Enter PRINCE._

_Prince._ When in my love’s confusion and excess I fancy many a fond unlikely chance, Desire grows stronger, resolution less, I linger more the more I would advance. False to my nobler self, I madly seize Upon a medicine alien to my ill; And feeding still with that should cure disease, At once my peace and reputation kill By turns; as the conflicting passions fire, And chase each other madly through my breast, I worship and despise, blame and admire, Weep and rejoice, and covet and detest. Alas! a bitter bargain he must choose, Who love with life, or life with love, must lose!

_Enter LAZARO._

_Laz._ Where can my master be? I shall go crazy, I think, running from room to room, and house to house, after him and his distracted wits.

_Prince._ Lazaro! Well, what news abroad?

_Laz._ Ah, my lord, there has been little of that under the sun this long while, they say. For instance, the slasht doublets just come into fashion, and which they call new; why ’twas I invented them years ago.

_Prince._ You! how?

_Laz._ Why, look you; once on a time when I was not so well off as now, and my coat was out at elbows, the shirt came through: many saw and admired— and so it has grown into a fashion.

_Prince._ Who listens to you but carries away food for reflection!

[_Exit._

_Laz._ Aha! you are somewhat surfeited with that already, I take it.

So while the world her wonted journey keeps, Lazarus chuckles while poor Dives weeps.

_Enter CESAR._

_Ces._ Lazaro, I waited till the Prince was gone. Listen to me. Don Felix has betroth’d His sister to another, not to me; He will not tell me whom, nor does it matter: All ill alike. But out of this despair I’ll pluck the crown that hope could never reach. There is no time to lose; this very night I’ll carry her away.

_Laz._ Only beware Telling Don Arias what you mean to do. Is ’t possible you see not all along Your secret playing on his faithless lips? Here’s one last chance.

_Ces._ True, true.

_Laz._ You cannot lose By secrecy—what gain by telling him?

_Ces._ You may be right: and to clear up the cause Of past mischance, and make the future safe, I’ll take your counsel.

_Laz._ Then hey for victory! Meanwhile, sir, talk with all and trust in none, And least of all in him is coming hither. And then in ocean when the weary sun Washes his swollen face, ‘there shall be done A deed of dreadful note.’

_Enter ARIAS._

_Ar._ How now, Don Cesar?

_Laz._ (_aside_). Here are you, be sure, When aught is stirring.

_Ar._ How speeds Love with you?

_Laz._ (_aside_). The lighter, sir, now you are left behind.

_Ces._ Arias, my friend! All’s lost! The love I grew deep in my heart of hearts Is wither’d at the moment of its blossom. I went to Felix, ask’d his sister’s hand: It was betroth’d, he told me, to another: I was too late. All’s lost! It were in vain Weeping for that I never can attain: I will forget what I must needs forgo, And turn to other—

_Laz._ (_to ARIAS_). Pray, sir, pardon me; But pri’thee say no more to him just now; It brings on such a giddiness.

_Ar._ Alas! But can I be of service?

_Laz._ Only, sir, By saying nothing more.

_Ar._ I am truly sorry.

[_Exit._

_Laz._ That you can lie no longer in the matter. Oh, the Lord speed you!

_Ces._ O Love, if mortal anguish ever move thee, At this last hour requite me with one smile For all thy sorrows! let what I have suffer’d Appease thy jealous godhead! I complain not That you condemn my merits as too poor For the great glory they aspire unto; Yet who could brook to see a rival bear The wreath that neither can deserve to wear!

_Enter PRINCE and ARIAS._

_Prince_ (_to ARIAS_). Even so? Good. That he may not think ’twas out of malice, I made my business trench upon his love, Now that his love’s but Love-in-idleness, I’ll occupy him still. Cesar!

_Ces._ My lord!

_Prince._ I had like to have forgot. ’Tis Monday, is ’t not? I have despatches both for Rome and Naples We must see to them to-night.

_Ces._ My lord!

_Prince._ Bring hither Your writing.

_Ces._ (_apart_). Oh! the cup-full at my lips, And dasht down, and for ever! (_To LAZARO._) Villain, the victory you told me of!

_Laz._ What fault of mine, sir?

_Ces._ What fault? said you not All now was well?

_Laz._ Is ’t I who make it wrong?

_Ces._ You meddled.

_Prince._ Are you ready?

_Ces._ Immediately. Alas, alas! how shall my pen run clear Of the thick fountain that is welling here!

_Prince_ (_aside_). And I shall learn from you how that dark pair Contrive to smile, Jealousy and Despair.

[_Desk and papers brought in: exeunt ARIAS and LAZARO._

Now, are you ready? (_CESAR sits at the desk._)

_Ces._ Ay, my lord.

_Prince._ Begin then. ‘I am secretly’—

_Ces._ ‘Secretly’—driven to madness!

_Prince._ ‘About the marriage’—

_Ces._ ‘Marriage’—that never shall take place!

_Prince._ ‘All is fair for you’—

_Ces._ ‘For you’—though perdition to me!

_Prince._ ‘Believe me’—

_Ces._ I shall not survive it!

_Prince._ ‘That Donna Anna of Castelvi’—

_Ces._ ‘That Donna Anna’—I can write no more!

_Prince._ ‘Is such in birth, beauty, and wit’—

_Ces._ Oh, my lord, pardon me; but may I know This letter’s destination?

_Prince._ Eh? to Flanders. Why do you ask?

_Ces._ To Flanders! But, my lord, Surely no Flemish courier leaves to-day, Might not to-morrow—

_Prince_ (_aside_). At the name of Anna His colour changed. (_Aloud._) No matter. ’Tis begun, And we’ll ev’n finish it. Where left I off?

_Ces._ (_reading_). ‘Can write no more’—

_Prince._ Eh? ‘Write no more?’ Did I Say that?

_Ces._ My lord?

_Prince._ The letter. Give me it.

_Ces._ (_aside_). Come what come may then, what is writ is writ!

_Prince_ (_reading_). ‘I am secretly driven to madness about the marriage that never shall take place. All is fair for you, though perdition to me. Believe me I shall not survive it, that Donna Anna—I can write no more.’

Was this what I dictated?

_Ces._ (_throwing himself at the PRINCE’S feet_). O my lord, O noble Alexander! if the service You have so often praised beyond desert Deserve of you at all, snatch not from me The only crown I ever ask’d for it, To gild a less familiar brow withal. This lady, Donna Anna, Whom you are now devoting to another, Is mine, my lord; mine, if a two years’ suit Of unremitted love not unreturn’d Should make her mine; which mine beyond dispute Would long ere this have made her, had not I How many a golden opportunity Lost from my love to spend it on my Prince! And this is my reward! Oh, knew I not How the ill star that rules my destiny Might of itself dispose the gracious Prince, Who call’d me for his friend from infancy, To act my bitterest enemy unawares, I might believe some babbler—

_Prince._ Nay, Don Cesar, If in all these cross purposes of love You recognise the secret hand of fate, Accuse no mortal tongue, which could not reach The stars that rule us all, wag as it would. Enough. I am aggrieved, and not, I think, Unjustly, that without my pleasure, nay, Without my knowledge even, you, my subject, And servant, (leaving the dear name of friend,) Disposed so of yourself, and of a lady Whose grace my court considers as its own. Give me the pen: and, as you write so laxly, I must myself report—

_Ces._ My lord!

_Prince._ The pen. (_He writes._)

_Ces._ If in misfortune’s quiver there be left One arrow, let it come!

_Prince._ You could not write, Don Cesar; but perhaps can seal this letter: Tis for Don Felix; send it to him straight. Or stay—I’d have it go by a sure hand: Take it yourself directly.

_Ces._ At one blow My love and friendship laid for ever low!

[_Exit._

_Enter FELIX and ARIAS._

_Ar._ The letter must be written.

_Prince._ Oh, Don Felix, I have this moment sent to you. No matter: ’Twas but to say I have this instant heard Your sister’s bridegroom is in Parma; nay, Perhaps already at your house.

_Fel._ Oh, my lord, How shall I thank you for this gracious news?

_Prince._ Nay, we will hear them from your sister’s lips. To her at once.

[_Exit FELIX._

And now, Don Arias, You have to swear upon the holy cross That hilts this sword, that neither Donna Anna Know that I ever loved her, nor Don Cesar I ever cross’d his love.

_Ar._ Upon this cross I swear it; and beseech you in return Never, my lord, to tell Don Cesar who Reveal’d his secret.

_Prince._ Be it so. I promise. And now to see whether indeed I dare Compete with him whose lofty name I wear.

[_Exeunt._