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HELENA: And is the world Not s.p.a.ce enough but he must needs come here!
If it were----?
ANTONIO: Haemon?--'Twere perhaps not ill.
HELENA: I know not! Broodings smoulder from his moods Feverous bitter.
ANTONIO: Kindness then shall quench them.
But now, away. Forget this dread and be you By day my lark, by night my nightingale, Not a sad bird of boding!
HELENA: With the day All will be well.
ANTONIO: Remember then you are Only a little slept from your life's sh.o.r.e Out on the infinite of love, whose air Is awe and mystery.
HELENA: I go, my lord.
Think of me oft!
ANTONIO (_taking her in his arms_): My Helena!
(_She goes with PAULA. He steps aside and watches the approaching forms._)
'Tis Haemon!
My father!
_Enter CHARLES friendly, with HaeMON._
CHARLES: So, no farther? you'll stop here?
HaeMON: Sir, if you grant it. I----
CHARLES (_twittingly_): Some rendezvous?
Who is she? Ah, young blood and Spring and night!
HaeMON: No rendezvous, my lord.
CHARLES: Some lay then you Would muse on?
HaeMON: Yes, a lay.
CHARLES: And one of love?
The word, you see, founts easy to my lips.
(_With confidential archness._) 'Tis recent in my thought--as you will learn.
HaeMON: How, sir, and when?
CHARLES: O, when? Be not surprised!-- Well, to the lay!
(_He goes._
HaeMON: Cruel! His soldiers waste The bread of honesty, the hope of age!
Are drunken, b.l.o.o.d.y, indolent, and l.u.s.t To tear all innocence away and robe Our loveliest in shame!--Yet me, a Greek, He suddenly befriends!
ANTONIO (_coming forward_): Haemon----
HaeMON: Ah, you?
ANTONIO: There's room between your tone and courtesy.
HaeMON: And shall be while I'm readier to bend Over a beggar's pain than prince's fingers.
ANTONIO: And yet you know me better----
HaeMON: Than to believe You're not Antonio, son of Charles di Tocca?
ANTONIO: I'd be your friend.
HaeMON: So would he: and he smiles.
ANTONIO: There are deep reasons for it.
HaeMON: With him too!
Against a miracle, you are his heir!
ANTONIO: I think it would be well for you to listen.
My confidence once curbed----
HaeMON: May bite and paw?
Let it! for fools are threats, and cowards. Were You Tamerlane and mine the skull should cap A b.l.o.o.d.y pyramid of enemies, I'd----!
ANTONIO: Hear me. Will you be so blind?
HaeMON: To your Fair graces? No, my lord--not so. Your sword And doublet are sublimely worn! sublimely!
Your curls would tempt an empress' fingers, and----
ANTONIO: Why is my anger silent?
HaeMON: Let it speak And not this subtle pride! You would be friend, A friend to me--a friend!--Did not your father Into a sick and sunless keep cast mine Because he was a Greek and still a Greek, And would not be a slave? His cunning has Not whispered death about him as a pest?
He--he, my friend? and you?--And I on him Should lean, and flatter----?
ANTONIO: Cease: though he has stains The times are tyrannous and men like beasts Find mercy preservation's enemy.
You're heated with suspicion and old wrong, But take my hand as pledge----
HaeMON (_refusing it_): That you'll be false?
_Enter BARDAS._
BARDAS: I've sought you, Haemon. Antonio? We are Well met then: to your doors my want was bent With a request.
ANTONIO: Which gladly I shall hear And if I can will grant.
BARDAS: My haste is blunt-- As is my tongue.
