Of Heaven untrammelled flow-which air to breathe
Is Happiness now, and will be Freedom hereafter
In days that are to come?

Pol. Oh, wilt thou-wilt thou

Fly to that Paradise-my Lalage, wilt thou

Fly thither with me? There Care shall be forgotten,
And Sorrow shall be no more, and Eros be all.
And life shall then be mine, for I will live
For thee, and in thine eyes—and thou shalt be
No more a mourner—but the radiant Joys
Shall wait upon thee, and the angel Hope
Attend thee ever; and I will kneel to thee
And worship thee, and call thee my beloved,
My own, my beautiful, my love, my wife,
My all;—-oh, wilt thou-wilt thou, Lalage,
Fly thither with me?

Lal. A deed is to be done

Castiglione lives!

Pol. And he shall die!

(Exit.)

Lal. (after a pause). And-he—shall—die !

alas!

Castiglione die? Who spoke the words?
Where am I?-what was it he said?-Politian!
Thou art not gone-thou art not gone, Politian!
I feel thou art not gone-yet dare not look,
Lest I behold thee not-thou couldst not go
With those words upon thy lips-Oh, speak to me !
And let me hear thy voice-one word-one word,
Το say thou art not gone,-one little sentence,

Το

say how thou dost scorn-how thou dost hate My womanly weakness. Ha! ha! thou art not gone— Oh, speak to me! I knew thou wouldst not go! I knew thou wouldst not, couldst not, durst not go. Villain, thou art not gone-thou mockest me!

And thus I clutch thee-thus! He is gone, he is

gone

Gone-gone. Where am I?-'tis well-'tis very well! So that the blade be keen-the blow be sure, 'Tis well, 'tis very well-alas! alas!

V.

The Suburbs. POLITIAN alone.

Politian. This weakness grows upon me.

faint,

And much I fear me ill-it will not do

To die ere I have lived!-Stay-stay thy hand,
O Azrael, yet awhile!-Prince of the Powers
Of Darkness and the Tomb, oh, pity me!
Oh, pity me! let me not perish now,
In the budding of my Paradisal Hope!
Give me to live yet-yet a little while:
'Tis I who pray for life-I who so late
Demanded but to die!-what sayeth the Count?

Enter BALDAZZAR.

I am

Baldazzar. That, knowing no cause of quarrel or of feud

Between the Earl Politian and himself,

He doth decline your cartel.

Pol. What didst thou say?

What answer was it you brought me, good Baldazzar? With what excessive fragrance the zephyr comes

Laden from yonder bowers?—a fairer day,

Or one more worthy Italy, methinks

No mortal eyes have seen!-what said the Count?
Bal. That he, Castiglione, not being aware
Of any feud existing, or any cause

Of quarrel between your lordship and himself,
Cannot accept the challenge.

Pol. It is most true

All this is very true.

When saw you, sir,

When saw you now, Baldazzar, in the frigid
Ungenial Britain which we left so lately,
A heaven so calm as this-so utterly free
From the evil taint of clouds?—and he did say?
Bal. No more, my lord, than I have told you,
The Count Castiglione will not fight,
Having no cause for quarrel.

Pol. Now this is true

All very true. Thou art my friend, Baldazzar,
And I have not forgotten it-thou❜lt do me
A piece of service; wilt thou go back and say
Unto this man, that I, the Earl of Leicester,
Hold him a villain ?—thus much, I prythee, say
Unto the Count--it is exceeding just

He should have cause for quarrel.

Bal. My lord!—my friend!

Pol. (aside). 'Tis he-he comes himself! (Aloud.) Thou reasonest well.

I know what thou wouldst say-not send the mes

sage

Well!—I will think of it—I will not send it.

Now prythee, leave me-hither doth come a person

With whom affairs of a most private nature

I would adjust.

Bal. I go-to-morrow we meet,

Do we not?-at the Vatican.

Pol. At the Vatican.

(Exit BAL.)

Enter CASTIGLIONE.

Cas. The Earl of Leicester here!

Pol. I am the Earl of Leicester, and thou seest, Dost thou not, that I am here?

Cas. My lord, some strange,

Some singular mistake-misunderstanding—

Hath without doubt arisen: thou hast been urged

Thereby, in heat of anger, to address

Some words most unaccountable, in writing,

To me, Castiglione; the bearer being

Baldazzar, Duke of Surrey. I am aware

Of nothing which might warrant thee in this thing,

Having given thee no offence. Ha!—am I right? 'Twas a mistake?—undoubtedly—we all

Do err at times.

Pol. Draw, villain, and prate no more!

Cas. Ha!-draw?—and villain? have at thee then

at once,

Proud Earl! (Draws.)

Pol. (drawing). Thus to the expiatory tomb, Untimely sepulchre, I do devote thee

In the name of Lalage!

Cas. (letting fall his sword and recoiling to the extremity of the stage.)

Of Lalage!

Hold off-thy sacred hand!—avaunt, I say!
Avaunt-I will not fight thee-indeed I dare not.
Pol. Thou wilt not fight with me, didst say, Sir

Count?

Shall I be baffled thus ?-now this is well;

Didst say

thou darest not?

VOL. IV.

Ha!

Ꮓ

Cas. I dare not-dare not

Hold off thy hand-with that beloved name
So fresh upon thy lips I will not fight thee—
I cannot dare not.

Pol. Now by my halidom

I do believe thee !-coward, I do believe thee!
Cas. Ha!-coward!-this may not be !

(Clutches his sword and staggers towards Poli-
tian, but his purpose is changed before reaching
him, and he falls upon his knee at the feet of
the Earl.)

It is-it is-most true.

Alas! my lord,

In such a cause

I am the veriest coward. Pol. (greatly softened). pity thee.

Cas. And Lalage

Oh pity me!

Alas! I do indeed I

Pol. Scoundrel !—arise and die!

Cas. It needeth not be-thus-thus-Oh let me

die

Thus on my bended knee. It were most fitting

That in this deep humiliation I perish.

For in the fight I will not raise a hand

Against thee, Earl of Leicester. Strike thou home—

(Baring his bosom.)

Here is no let or hindrance to thy weapon

Strike home. I will not fight thee.

Pol. Now 's Death and Hell!

sir :

Am I not—am I not sorely-grievously tempted
To take thee at thy word? But mark me,
Think not to fly me thus. Do thou prepare
For public insult in the streets-before
The eyes of the citizens. I'll follow thee-
Like an avenging spirit I'll follow thee