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_2nd Retainer._ What then? Why, you, she speaks to if she meets Your wors.h.i.+p, smiles on as you hold apart The boughs to let her through her forest walks You, always favorite for your no deserts You've heard, these three days, how Earl Mertoun sues To lay his heart and house and broad lands too At Lady Mildred's feet: and while we squeeze Ourselves into a mousehole lest we miss One congee of the least page in his train, You sit o' one side--"there's the Earl," say I-- "What then," say you!
_3rd Retainer._ I'll wager he has let Both swans be tamed for Lady Mildred swim Over the falls and gain the river!
_Gerard._ Ralph!
Is not to-morrow my inspecting day For you and for your hawks?
_4th Retainer._ Let Gerard be!
He's coa.r.s.e-grained, like his carved black cross-bow stock.
Ha, look now, while we squabble with him, look!
Well done, now--is not this beginning, now, To purpose?
_1st Retainer._ Our retainers look as fine-- That's comfort. Lord, how Richard holds himself With his white staff! Will not a knave behind p.r.i.c.k him upright?
_4th Retainer._ He's only bowing, fool!
The Earl's man bent us lower by this much.
_1st Retainer._ That's comfort. Here's a very cavalcade!
_3rd Retainer._ I don't see wherefore Richard, and his troop Of silk and silver varlets there, should find Their perfumed selves so indispensable On high days, holidays! Would it so disgrace Our family, if I, for instance, stood-- In my right hand a cast of Swedish hawks, A leash of greyhounds in my left?--
_Gerard._ --With Hugh The logman for supporter, in his right The bill-hook, in his left the brushwood-shears!
_3rd Retainer._ Out on you, crab! What next, what next?
The Earl!
_1st Retainer._ Oh Walter, groom, our horses, do they match The Earl's? Alas, that first pair of the six-- They paw the ground--Ah Walter! and that brute Just on his haunches by the wheel!
_6th Retainer._ Ay--ay!
You, Philip, are a special hand, I hear, At soups and sauces: what's a horse to you?
D'ye mark that beast they've slid into the midst So cunningly?--then, Philip, mark this further; No leg has he to stand on!
_1st Retainer._ No? That's comfort.
_2nd Retainer._ Peace, Cook! The Earl descends. Well, Gerard, see The Earl at least! Come, there's a proper man, I hope! Why, Ralph, no falcon, Pole or Swede, Has got a starrier eye.
_3rd Retainer._ His eyes are blue: But leave my hawks alone!
_4th Retainer._ So young, and yet So tall and shapely!
_5th Retainer._ Here's Lord Tresham's self!
There now--there's what a n.o.bleman should be!
He's older, graver, loftier, he's more like A House's head.
_2nd Retainer._ But you'd not have a boy --And what's the Earl beside?--possess too soon That stateliness?
_1st Retainer._ Our master takes his hand-- Richard and his white staff are on the move-- Back fall our people--(ts.h.!.+--there's Timothy Sure to get tangled in his ribbon-ties, And Peter's cursed rosette's a-coming off!) --At last I see our lord's back and his friend's; And the whole beautiful bright company Close round them--in they go!
[_Jumping down from the window-bench, and making for the table and its jugs._]
Good health, long life Great joy to our Lord Tresham and his House!
_6th Retainer._ My father drove his father first to court, After his marriage-day--ay, did he!
_2nd Retainer._ G.o.d bless Lord Tresham, Lady Mildred, and the Earl!
Here, Gerard, reach your beaker!
_Gerard._ Drink, my boys!
Don't mind me--all's not right about me--drink!
_2nd Retainer_ [_aside_]. He's vexed, now, that he let the show escape!
[_To GERARD._] Remember that the Earl returns this way.
_Gerard._ That way?
_2nd Retainer._ Just so.
_Gerard._ Then my way's here.
[_Goes._
_2nd Retainer._ Old Gerard Will die soon--mind, I said it! He was used To care about the pitifullest thing That touched the House's honor, not an eye But his could see wherein: and on a cause Of scarce a quarter this importance, Gerard Fairly had fretted flesh and bone away In cares that this was right, nor that was wrong, Such point decorous, and such square by rule-- He knew such niceties, no herald more: And now--you see his humor: die he will!
_2nd Retainer._ G.o.d help him! Who's for the great servant's hall To hear what's going on inside? They'd follow Lord Tresham into the saloon.
_3rd Retainer._ I!--
_4th Retainer._ I!-- Leave Frank alone for catching, at the door, Some hint of how the parley goes inside!
Prosperity to the great House once more!
Here's the last drop!
_1st Retainer._ Have at you! Boys, hurrah!
SCENE II.--_A Saloon in the Mansion._
_Enter LORD THESHAM, LORD MERTOUN, AUSTIN, and GUENDOLEN._
_Tresham._ I welcome you, Lord Mertoun, yet once more, To this ancestral roof of mine. Your name --n.o.ble among the n.o.blest in itself, Yet taking in your person, fame avers, New price and l.u.s.tre,--(as that gem you wear, Transmitted from a hundred knightly b.r.e.a.s.t.s, Fresh chased and set and fixed by its last lord, Seems to re-kindle at the core)--your name Would win you welcome!--
_Mertoun._ Thanks!
_Tresham._ --But add to that, The worthiness and grace and dignity Of your proposal for uniting both Our Houses even closer than respect Unites them now--add these, and you must grant One favor more, nor that the least,--to think The welcome I should give;--'tis given! My lord, My only brother, Austin: he's the king's.
Our cousin, Lady Guendolen--betrothed To Austin: all are yours.
_Mertoun._ I thank you--less For the expressed commendings which your seal, And only that, authenticates--forbids My putting from me ... to my heart I take Your praise ... but praise less claims my grat.i.tude, Than the indulgent insight it implies Of what must needs be uppermost with one Who comes, like me, with the bare leave to ask, In weighed and measured unimpa.s.sioned words, A gift, which, if as calmly 'tis denied, He must withdraw, content upon his cheek, Despair within his soul. That I dare ask Firmly, near boldly, near with confidence That gift, I have to thank you. Yes, Lord Tresham, I love your sister--as you'd have one love That lady ... oh more, more I love her! Wealth, Rank, all the world thinks me, they're yours, you know, To hold or part with, at your choice--but grant My true self, me without a rood of land, A piece of gold, a name of yesterday, Grant me that lady, and you ... Death or life?
_Guendolen_ [_apart to AUSTIN_]. Why, this is loving, Austin!
