The Legendary and Poetical Remains of John Roby - LightNovelsOnl.com
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How goes the morn?
FIRST ATTENDANT.
When past the rock, Methought the convent bell chimed there for matins.
Heard you it, signor?
BERTRAND.
I know not. Is the hour yet gone?
FIRST ATTENDANT.
What hour?
BERTRAND.
Does the day dawn?
SECOND ATTENDANT.
Ay; but night-lurking clouds Shut out the approaching light. One short, wan streak, As if in the branches of yon distant oak, Alone brings n.i.g.g.ard tidings.
BERTRAND.
Hark!--footsteps.
FIRST ATTENDANT.
It is the tread Of some roused deer: upon the rustling leaves Man's bolder foot falls not so lightly.
BERTRAND.
The day its custom'd hour forgets, And lingers in its chamber, loth to rise, With unveil'd face, on the wide ruin Of this hush'd tempest.
FIRST ATTENDANT.
Look towards the east!
The light breaks rapidly athwart its face.
You look not, signor. Hear you the----
_Enter DUKE, disguised._
BERTRAND.
Welcome, if thou art he--the foe I meet.
DUKE.
The same; but not thy foe.
BERTRAND.
That hated voice!
Revenge it cries. Prepare! no more delay!
Draw, dastard! or thy recreant blood I'll pour Unfought for to this earth.
[_BERTRAND makes the attack, the DUKE keeping on the defensive._
BERTRAND.
Thou wardest but my blows; fight, villain!
[_The DUKE makes a parry, and immediately disarms BERTRAND._ I seek not mercy. None would I have given If I had seen thee thus.
DUKE.
Take back thy sword. How fares thy friend?
BERTRAND.
If he recover, hate to thee, unceasing, And to Hermione, he vows for ever!
DUKE.
Does he recover?
BERTRAND.
Wherefore askest thou?
DUKE.
Nay, chafe me not:--pa.s.sion but slowly sinks If still the wind buffet the boiling wave!
BERTRAND.
Thou threatenest well. I can defy thy wrath.
Another stroke might change the haughty hue Of thy proud boast.
FIRST ATTENDANT.
Nay, be at peace--again Ye may not quarrel. Soft, good signor, sheath Your perilous weapon. 'Tis not just we wait Another issue with decided strife.
DUKE.
Farewell!
I would depart while better reason yet Keeps stedfast watch. [_Exit._
BERTRAND.
Cool-hearted wretch!
Thy pa.s.sion kept not pace with thine occasion, Else had it minister'd to other issues.
Anger disarm'd me--not thine arm, a.s.sa.s.sin.
FIRST ATTENDANT.
Yet hath he braved it n.o.bly, and, methinks, A better name hath earn'd in thy report.
SECOND ATTENDANT.
Knowest thou thy foe?
BERTRAND.
What need? His name I wot not.
SECOND ATTENDANT.
The Duke!
BERTRAND.
The Duke?--of Mantua!
SECOND ATTENDANT.
'Tis he!
A n.o.bler heart beneath a truer breast Ne'er beat. I watch'd his bearing as he gave The weapon back to thy reluctant grasp: 'Twas just the air, the lofty temper'd port, I've seen him use, when, with proud condescension, Gracious--yet bating nought his dignity,-- He deals such pardon to the trembling culprit As makes the offence yet doubly heinous.
