Courtiers. [to each other.] Out it all comes yet;
He'll have his word against the bargain yet;
He's not the man to tamely acquiesce.
One passionate appeal - upbraiding even,
May turn the tide again. Despair not yet!
Berth. [to MELCHIOR.] The Empire has
friend!

[They retire a little. its old success, my

spokesman speaks,

Mel. You've had your way: before the
Let me, but this once, work a problem out,
And ever more be dumb! The Empire wins?
To better purpose have I read my books!
Enter VALENCE.

Mel. [to the Courtiers.] Apart, my masters!
[TO VALENCE.]

Sir, one word with you!

I am a poor dependant of the Prince's
Pitched on to speak, as of slight consequence.
You are no higher, I find: in other words,
We two, as probably the wisest here,
Need not hold diplomatic talk like fools.
Suppose I speak, divesting the plain fact
Of all their tortuous phrases, fit for them?
Do you reply so, and what trouble saved!

The Prince, then an embroiled strange heap of news
This moment reaches him — if true or false,

All dignity forbids he should inquire

In person, or by worthier deputy;

Yet somehow must inquire, lest slander come:
And so, 't is I am pitched on.

His offer to your lady?

Val.

You have heard

Yes.

No after-judgment-no first thought revised -
Her first and last decision! — me, she leaves,
Takes him; a simple heart is flung aside,
The ermine o'er a heartless breast embraced.
Oh Heaven, this mockery has been played too oft!
Once, to surprise the angels-twice, that fiends
Recording, might be proud they chose not so-
Thrice, many thousand times, to teach the world
All men should pause, misdoubt their strength, since men
Can have such chance yet fail so signally,

But ever, ever this farewell to Heaven,
Welcome to earth- this taking death for life -
This spurning love and kneeling to the world
Oh Heaven, it is too often and too old!

Mel. Well, on this point, what but an absurd rumor
Arises these, its source — - its subject, you!
Your faith and loyalty misconstruing,

They say, your service claims the lady's hand!
Of course, nor Prince nor lady can respond:
Yet something must be said for, were it true
You made such claim, the Prince would

:

...

Well, sir, — would?

Val.
Mel. Not only probably withdraw his suit,
But, very like, the lady might be forced
Accept your own. Oh, there are reasons why!
But you 'll excuse at present all save one,
I think so. What we want is, your own witness,
For, or against her good, or yours: decide!

Val. [Aside.] Be it her good if she accounts it so! [After a contest.] For what am I but hers, to choose as she? Who knows how far, beside, the light from her

May reach, and dwell with, what she looks upon ?
Mel. [to the Prince.] Now to him, you!

Berth. [to VALENCE.] My friend acquaints you, sir,
The noise runs . . .

Val.

Wedding her as you will,
To show belief in love!

Prince, how fortunate are you,
in spite of noise,
Let her but love you,
What else can be?

All else you disregard!
You know how love is incompatible
With falsehood—purifies, assimilates
All other passions to itself.

Mel.

Ay, sir:

But softly! Where, in the object we select,

Such love is, perchance, wanting?

Val.

What is it you can take?

Mel.

Youth, beauty, virtue, an illustrious name,

An influence o'er mankind.

Val.

Then indeed,

Nay, ask the world!

When man perceives.

May I? no, I have spoken,

-Ah, I can only speak as for myself!
The D. Speak for yourself!

Val.

And time 's gone by. Had I seen such an one,
As I loved her-weighing thoroughly that word-

So should

my task be to evolve her love :

If for myself!-if for another

- well.

Berth. Heroic truly! And your sole reward, The secret pride in yielding up love's right?

Val. Who thought upon reward? And yet how much Comes after-oh, what amplest recompense!

and dwell.

Is the knowledge of her, nought? the memory, nought?
Lady, should such an one have looked on you,
Ne'er wrong yourself so far as quote the world
And say, love can go unrequited here!
You will have blessed him to his whole life's end
Low passions hindered, baser cares kept back,
All goodness cherished where you dwelt
What would he have? He holds you
- you, both form
And mind, in his, where self-love makes such room
For love of you, he would not serve you now
The vulgar way, - repulse your enemies,
Win you new realms, or best, to save the old
Die blissfully-that's past so long ago!
He wishes you no need, thought, care of him
Your good, by any means, himself unseen,
Away, forgotten! He gives that life's task up,
As it were... but this charge which I return

Wishing your good.

[Offers the requisition, which she takes.

The D. [having subscribed it.] And opportunely, sirSince at a birthday's close, like this of mine,

Good wishes gentle deeds reciprocate.

Most on a wedding-day, as mine is too,

Should gifts be thought of: yours comes first by right.
Ask of me!

Berth. He shall have whate'er he asks,
sake and his own.

For

your

Val. [Aside.]

If I should ask ·

The withered bunch of flowers she wears—perhaps,
One last touch of her hand, I never more

Shall see!

[After a pause, presenting his paper to the Prince. Cleves' Prince, redress the wrongs of Cleves!

Berth. I will, sir!

The D. [as VALENCE prepares to retire.] - Nay, do out your duty, first!

You bore this paper; I have registered

My answer to it: read it and have done!

I take him—give up Juliers and the world.
This is my Birthday.

[VALENCE reads it.

Mel.

Berthold, my one hero

Of the world she gives up, one friend worth my books,
Sole man I think it pays the pains to watch,

Speak, for I know you through your Popes and Kings! Berth. [after a pause.] Lady, well rewarded! Sir, as well deserved!

I could not imitate I hardly envy

To wither

I do admire you. All is for the best.
Too costly a flower were this, I see it now,
To pluck and set upon my barren helm
any garish plume will do.
I'll not insult you and refuse your Duchy -
You can so well afford to yield it me,
And I were left, without it, sadly lorn.
As it is - for me if that will flatter you,

A somewhat wearier life seems to remain

Than I thought possible where . . . 'faith, their life
Begins already! They 're too occupied

To listen and few words content me best.

[Abruptly to the Courtiers.] I am your Duke, though! Who obey me here?

The D. Adolf and Sabyne follow us

Gui. [starting from the Courtiers.]And I? Do I not follow them, if I may n't you?

Shall not I get some little duties up

At Ravestein and emulate the rest?

God save you, Gaucelme! "T is my Birthday, too!
Berth. You happy handful that remain with me
That is, with Dietrich the black Barnabite

I shall leave over you will earn your wages
Or Dietrich has forgot to ply his trade!

Meantime, go copy me the precedents
Of every installation, proper styles

And pedigrees of all your Juliers' Dukes -
While I prepare to plod on my old way,

And somewhat wearily, I must confess!

The D. [with a light joyous laugh as she turns from them.]

Come, Valence, to our friends, God's earth

Val. [as she falls into his arms.]

...

-And thee!

DRAMATIC ROMANCES

INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP.

I.

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: A mile or so away,

On a little mound, Napoleon

Stood on our storming-day;

With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.

II.

Just as perhaps he mused "My plans
That soar, to earth may fall,

Let once my army-leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall,"

Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound

Full-galloping; nor bridle drew

Until he reached the mound.

III.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect

By just his horse's mane, a boy:
You hardly could suspect·

(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood came through)

You looked twice ere you saw his breast
Was all but shot in two.

IV.

"Well,” cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace

We've got you Ratisbon !

The Marshal's in the market-place,

And you'll be there anon