Chapter 29
SIGISMUND, CLARIN, and Soldiers.
SIGISMUND. Who has named here Sigismund?
CLARIN [aside.] Ah, I'm but an addled prince, then!
FIRST SOLDIER. Who is Sigismund?
SIGISMUND. Who? I.
SECOND SOLDIER [to CLARIN]. How, then, didst thou, bold and silly, Dare to make thee Sigismund?
CLARIN. I a Sigismund? Thou fibbest; It was you yourselves that thus Sigismundized me and princed me: All the silliness and the boldness Have been by yourselves committed.
FIRST SOLDIER. Great and brave Prince Sigismund (For thy bearing doth convince us Thou art he, although on faith We proclaim thee as our prince here). King Basilius, thy father, Fearful of the Heavens fulfilling A prediction, which declared He would see himself submitted At thy victor feet, attempts To deprive thee of thy birthright, And to give it to Astolfo, Muscovy's duke. For this his missives Summoned all his court: the people Understanding, by some instinct, That they had a natural king, Did not wish a foreign princeling To rule o'er them. And 'tis thus, That the fate for thee predicted Treating with a noble scorn, They have sought thee where imprisoned Thou dost live, that issuing forth, By their powerful arms assisted, From this tower, thy crown and sceptre Thou shouldst thus regain, and quit them Of a stranger and a tyrant. Forth! then; for among these cliffs here There is now a numerous army, Formed of soldiers and banditti, That invoke thee: freedom waits thee; To the thousand voices listen.
[Voices within.] Long, long live Prince Sigismund!
SIGISMUND. Once again, O Heaven! wouldst wish me Once again to dream of greatness Which may vanish in an instant? Once again to see the glories, That a royal throne encircle, Die in darkness and in gloom, Like a flame the winds extinguish? Once again by sad experience To be taught the dangerous limits Human power may overleap, At its birth and while it liveth? No, it must not, must not be:-- See me now one more submitted To my fate; and since I know Life is but a dream, a vision, Hence, ye phantoms, that assume To my darkened sense the figure And the voice of life -- although Neither voice nor form is in them. I no longer now desire A feigned majesty, a fictitious And fantastic pomp -- illusions Which the slightest breath that ripples The calm ether can destroy, Even as in the early spring-time, When the flowering almond tree Unadvisedly exhibits All its fleeting bloom of flowers, The first blast their freshness withers, And the ornament and grace Of its rosy locks disfigures. Now I know ye -- know ye all, And I know the same false glimmer Cheats the eyes of all who sleep. Me false shows no more bewilder; Disabused, I now know well Life is but a dream -- a vision.
SECOND SOLDIER. If thou thinkest we deceive thee, Turn thine eyes to those proud cliffs here, See the crowds that wait there, willing, Eager to obey thee.
SIGISMUND. Yet Just as clearly and distinctly, I have seen another time The same things that now I witness, And 'twas but a dream.
SECOND SOLDIER. At all times Great events, my lord, bring with them Their own omens; and thy dream But the actual fact prefigured.
SIGISMUND. You say well, it was an omen; But supposing the bright vision Even were true, since life is short, Let us dream, my soul a little, Once again, remembering now With all forethought and prevision That we must once more awake At the better time not distant; That being known, the undeceiving, When it comes, will be less bitter; For it takes the sting from evil To anticipate its visit. And with this conviction, too, Even its certainty admitting, That all power being only lent Must return unto the Giver, Let us boldly then dare all.-- For the loyalty you exhibit, Thanks, my lieges. See in me One who will this land deliver From a stranger's alien yoke. Sound to arms; you soon shall witness What my valour can effect. 'Gainst my father I have lifted Hostile arms, to see if Heaven Has of me the truth predicted. At my feet I am to see him . . . But if I, from dreams delivered, [Aside. Wake ere then, and nothing happens, Silence now were more befitting.
ALL. Long live Sigismund, our king!
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