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+Project Gutenberg Life Is A Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca
+#1 in our series by Pedro Calderon de la Barca
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+Title: Life Is A Dream
+
+Author: Pedro Calderon de la Barca
+
+Translator: Edward Fitzgerald)
+
+April, 2001 [Etext #2587]
+
+
+Project Gutenberg Life Is A Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca
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+
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IS A DREAM
+
+by PEDRO CALDERON DE LA BARCA
+
+
+
+
+Translated by
+Edward Fitzgerald
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTORY NOTE
+
+Pedro Calderon de la Barca was born in Madrid, January 17, 1600, of
+good family. He was educated at the Jesuit College in Madrid and at
+the University of Salamanca; and a doubtful tradition says that he
+began to write plays at the age of thirteen. His literary activity was
+interrupted for ten years, 1625-1635, by military service in Italy and
+the Low Countries, and again for a year or more in Catalonia. In 1637
+he became a Knight of the Order of Santiago, and in 1651 he entered
+the priesthood, rising to the dignity of Superior of the Brotherhood
+of San Pedro in Madrid. He held various offices in the court of Philip
+IV, who rewarded his services with pensions, and had his plays
+produced with great splendor. He died May 5, 1681.
+
+At the time when Calderon began to compose for the stage, the Spanish
+drama was at its height. Lope de Vega, the most prolific and, with
+Calderon, the greatest, of Spanish dramatists, was still alive; and by
+his applause gave encouragement to the beginner whose fame was to
+rival his own. The national type of drama which Lope had established
+was maintained in its essential characteristics by Calderon, and he
+produced abundant specimens of all its varieties. Of regular plays he
+has left a hundred and twenty; of "Autos Sacramentales," the peculiar
+Spanish allegorical development of the medieval mystery, we have
+seventy-three; besides a considerable number of farces.
+
+The dominant motives in Calderon's dramas are characteristically
+national: fervid loyalty to Church and King, and a sense of honor
+heightened almost to the point of the fantastic. Though his plays are
+laid in a great variety of scenes and ages, the sentiment and the
+characters remain essentially Spanish; and this intensely local
+quality has probably lessened the vogue of Calderon in other
+countries. In the construction and conduct of his plots he showed
+great skill, yet the ingenuity expended in the management of the story
+did not restrain the fiery emotion and opulent imagination which mark
+his finest speeches and give them a lyric quality which some critics
+regard as his greatest distinction.
+
+Of all Calderon's works, "Life is a Dream" may be regarded as the most
+universal in its theme. It seeks to teach a lesson that may be learned
+from the philosophers and religious thinkers of many ages--that the
+world of our senses is a mere shadow, and that the only reality is to
+be found in the invisible and eternal. The story which forms its basis
+is Oriental in origin, and in the form of the legend of "Barlaam and
+Josaphat" was familiar in all the literatures of the Middle Ages.
+Combined with this in the plot is the tale of Abou Hassan from the
+"Arabian Nights," the main situations in which are turned to farcical
+purposes in the Induction to the Shakespearean "Taming of the Shrew."
+But with Calderon the theme is lifted altogether out of the atmosphere
+of comedy, and is worked up with poetic sentiment and a touch of
+mysticism into a symbolic drama of profound and universal
+philosophical significance.
+
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IS A DREAM
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE
+
+Basilio King of Poland.
+Segismund his Son.
+Astolfo his Nephew.
+Estrella his Niece.
+Clotaldo a General in Basilio's Service.
+Rosaura a Muscovite Lady.
+Fife her Attendant.
+
+Chamberlain, Lords in Waiting, Officers, Soldiers, etc., in Basilio's
+Service.
+
+
+
+The Scene of the first and third Acts lies on the Polish frontier: of
+the second Act, in Warsaw.
+
+As this version of Calderon's drama is not for acting, a higher and
+wider mountain-scene than practicable may be imagined for Rosaura's
+descent in the first Act and the soldiers' ascent in the last. The bad
+watch kept by the sentinels who guarded their state-prisoner, together
+with much else (not all!) that defies sober sense in this wild drama,
+I must leave Calderon to answer for; whose audience were not critical
+of detail and probability, so long as a good story, with strong,
+rapid, and picturesque action and situation, was set before them.
+
+
+
+ACT I
+
+
+
+SCENE I--A pass of rocks, over which a storm is rolling away, and the
+sun setting: in the foreground, half-way down, a fortress.
+
+
+(Enter first from the topmost rock Rosaura, as from horseback, in
+man's attire; and, after her, Fife.)
+
+ROSAURA.
+There, four-footed Fury, blast
+Engender'd brute, without the wit
+Of brute, or mouth to match the bit
+Of man--art satisfied at last?
+Who, when thunder roll'd aloof,
+Tow'rd the spheres of fire your ears
+Pricking, and the granite kicking
+Into lightning with your hoof,
+Among the tempest-shatter'd crags
+Shattering your luckless rider
+Back into the tempest pass'd?
+There then lie to starve and die,
+Or find another Phaeton
+Mad-mettled as yourself; for I,
+Wearied, worried, and for-done,
+Alone will down the mountain try,
+That knits his brows against the sun.
+
+FIFE (as to his mule).
+There, thou mis-begotten thing,
+Long-ear'd lightning, tail'd tornado,
+Griffin-hoof-in hurricano,
+(I might swear till I were almost
+Hoarse with roaring Asonante)
+Who forsooth because our betters
+Would begin to kick and fling
+You forthwith your noble mind
+Must prove, and kick me off behind,
+Tow'rd the very centre whither
+Gravity was most inclined.
+There where you have made your bed
+In it lie; for, wet or dry,
+Let what will for me betide you,
+Burning, blowing, freezing, hailing;
+Famine waste you: devil ride you:
+Tempest baste you black and blue:
+(To Rosaura.)
+There! I think in downright railing
+I can hold my own with you.
+
+ROS.
+Ah, my good Fife, whose merry loyal pipe,
+Come weal, come woe, is never out of tune
+What, you in the same plight too?
+
+FIFE.
+Ay; And madam--sir--hereby desire,
+When you your own adventures sing
+Another time in lofty rhyme,
+You don't forget the trusty squire
+Who went with you Don-quixoting.
+
+ROS.
+Well, my good fellow--to leave Pegasus
+Who scarce can serve us than our horses worse--
+They say no one should rob another of
+The single satisfaction he has left
+Of singing his own sorrows; one so great,
+So says some great philosopher, that trouble
+Were worth encount'ring only for the sake
+Of weeping over--what perhaps you know
+Some poet calls the 'luxury of woe.'
+
+FIFE.
+Had I the poet or philosopher
+In the place of her that kick'd me off to ride,
+I'd test his theory upon his hide.
+But no bones broken, madam--sir, I mean?--
+
+ROS.
+A scratch here that a handkerchief will heal--
+And you?--
+
+FIFE.
+A scratch in /quiddity/, or kind:
+But not in '/quo/'--my wounds are all behind.
+But, as you say, to stop this strain,
+Which, somehow, once one's in the vein,
+Comes clattering after--there again!--
+What are we twain--deuce take't!--we two,
+I mean, to do--drench'd through and through--
+Oh, I shall choke of rhymes, which I believe
+Are all that we shall have to live on here.
+
+ROS.
+What, is our victual gone too?--
+
+FIFE.
+Ay, that brute
+Has carried all we had away with her,
+Clothing, and cate, and all.
+
+ROS.
+And now the sun,
+Our only friend and guide, about to sink
+Under the stage of earth.
+
+FIFE.
+And enter Night,
+With Capa y Espada--and--pray heaven!
+With but her lanthorn also.
+
+ROS.
+Ah, I doubt
+To-night, if any, with a dark one--or
+Almost burnt out after a month's consumption.
+Well! well or ill, on horseback or afoot,
+This is the gate that lets me into Poland;
+And, sorry welcome as she gives a guest
+Who writes his own arrival on her rocks
+In his own blood--
+Yet better on her stony threshold die,
+Than live on unrevenged in Muscovy.
+
+FIFE.
+Oh, what a soul some women have--I mean
+Some men--
+
+ROS.
+Oh, Fife, Fife, as you love me, Fife,
+Make yourself perfect in that little part,
+Or all will go to ruin!
+
+FIFE.
+Oh, I will,
+Please God we find some one to try it on.
+But, truly, would not any one believe
+Some fairy had exchanged us as we lay
+Two tiny foster-children in one cradle?
+
+ROS.
+Well, be that as it may, Fife, it reminds me
+Of what perhaps I should have thought before,
+But better late than never--You know I love you,
+As you, I know, love me, and loyally
+Have follow'd me thus far in my wild venture.
+Well! now then--having seen me safe thus far
+Safe if not wholly sound--over the rocks
+Into the country where my business lies
+Why should not you return the way we came,
+The storm all clear'd away, and, leaving me
+(Who now shall want you, though not thank you, less,
+Now that our horses gone) this side the ridge,
+Find your way back to dear old home again;
+While I--Come, come!--
+What, weeping my poor fellow?
+
+FIFE.
+Leave you here
+Alone--my Lady--Lord! I mean my Lord--
+In a strange country--among savages--
+Oh, now I know--you would be rid of me
+For fear my stumbling speech--
+
+ROS.
+Oh, no, no, no!--
+I want you with me for a thousand sakes
+To which that is as nothing--I myself
+More apt to let the secret out myself
+Without your help at all--Come, come, cheer up!
+And if you sing again, 'Come weal, come woe,'
+Let it be that; for we will never part
+Until you give the signal.
+
+FIFE.
+'Tis a bargain.
+
+ROS.
+Now to begin, then. 'Follow, follow me,
+'You fairy elves that be.'
+
+FIFE.
+Ay, and go on--
+Something of 'following darkness like a dream,'
+For that we're after.
+
+ROS.
+No, after the sun;
+Trying to catch hold of his glittering skirts
+That hang upon the mountain as he goes.
+
+FIFE.
+Ah, he's himself past catching--as you spoke
+He heard what you were saying, and--just so--
+Like some scared water-bird,
+As we say in my country, /dove/ below.
+
+ROS.
+Well, we must follow him as best we may.
+Poland is no great country, and, as rich
+In men and means, will but few acres spare
+To lie beneath her barrier mountains bare.
+We cannot, I believe, be very far
+From mankind or their dwellings.
+
+FIFE.
+Send it so!
+And well provided for man, woman, and beast.
+No, not for beast. Ah, but my heart begins
+To yearn for her--
+
+ROS.
+Keep close, and keep your feet
+From serving you as hers did.
+
+FIFE.
+As for beasts,
+If in default of other entertainment,
+We should provide them with ourselves to eat--
+Bears, lions, wolves--
+
+ROS.
+Oh, never fear.
+
+FIFE.
+Or else,
+Default of other beasts, beastlier men,
+Cannibals, Anthropophagi, bare Poles
+Who never knew a tailor but by taste.
+
+ROS.
+Look, look! Unless my fancy misconceive
+With twilight--down among the rocks there, Fife--
+Some human dwelling, surely--
+Or think you but a rock torn from the rocks
+In some convulsion like to-day's, and perch'd
+Quaintly among them in mock-masonry?
+
+FIFE.
+Most likely that, I doubt.
+
+ROS.
+No, no--for look!
+A square of darkness opening in it--
+
+FIFE.
+Oh, I don't half like such openings!--
+
+ROS.
+Like the loom
+Of night from which she spins her outer gloom--
+
+FIFE.
+Lord, Madam, pray forbear this tragic vein
+In such a time and place--
+
+ROS.
+And now again
+Within that square of darkness, look! a light
+That feels its way with hesitating pulse,
+As we do, through the darkness that it drives
+To blacken into deeper night beyond.
+
+FIFE.
+In which could we follow that light's example,
+As might some English Bardolph with his nose,
+We might defy the sunset--Hark, a chain!
+
+ROS.
+And now a lamp, a lamp! And now the hand
+That carries it.
+
+FIFE.
+Oh, Lord! that dreadful chain!
+
+ROS.
+And now the bearer of the lamp; indeed
+As strange as any in Arabian tale,
+So giant-like, and terrible, and grand,
+Spite of the skin he's wrapt in.
+
+FIFE.
+Why, 'tis his own:
+Oh, 'tis some wild man of the woods; I've heard
+They build and carry torches--
+
+ROS.
+Never Ape
+Bore such a brow before the heavens as that--
+Chain'd as you say too!--
+
+FIFE.
+Oh, that dreadful chain!
+
+ROS.
+And now he sets the lamp down by his side,
+And with one hand clench'd in his tangled hair
+And with a sigh as if his heart would break--
+
+(During this Segismund has entered from the fortress, with a torch.)
+
+SEGISMUND.
+Once more the storm has roar'd itself away,
+Splitting the crags of God as it retires;
+But sparing still what it should only blast,
+This guilty piece of human handiwork,
+And all that are within it. Oh, how oft,
+How oft, within or here abroad, have I
+Waited, and in the whisper of my heart
+Pray'd for the slanting hand of heaven to strike
+The blow myself I dared not, out of fear
+Of that Hereafter, worse, they say, than here,
+Plunged headlong in, but, till dismissal waited,
+To wipe at last all sorrow from men's eyes,
+And make this heavy dispensation clear.
+Thus have I borne till now, and still endure,
+Crouching in sullen impotence day by day,
+Till some such out-burst of the elements
+Like this rouses the sleeping fire within;
+And standing thus upon the threshold of
+Another night about to close the door
+Upon one wretched day to open it
+On one yet wretcheder because one more;--
+Once more, you savage heavens, I ask of you--
+I, looking up to those relentless eyes
+That, now the greater lamp is gone below,
+Begin to muster in the listening skies;
+In all the shining circuits you have gone
+About this theatre of human woe,
+What greater sorrow have you gazed upon
+Than down this narrow chink you witness still;
+And which, did you yourselves not fore-devise,
+You registered for others to fulfil!
+
+FIFE.
+This is some Laureate at a birthday ode;
+No wonder we went rhyming.
+
+ROS.
+Hush! And now
+See, starting to his feet, he strides about
+Far as his tether'd steps--
+
+SEG.
+And if the chain
+You help'd to rivet round me did contract
+Since guiltless infancy from guilt in act;
+Of what in aspiration or in thought
+Guilty, but in resentment of the wrong
+That wreaks revenge on wrong I never wrought
+By excommunication from the free
+Inheritance that all created life,
+Beside myself, is born to--from the wings
+That range your own immeasurable blue,
+Down to the poor, mute, scale-imprison'd things,
+That yet are free to wander, glide, and pass
+About that under-sapphire, whereinto
+Yourselves transfusing you yourselves englass!
+
+ROS.
+What mystery is this?
+
+FIFE.
+Why, the man's mad:
+That's all the mystery. That's why he's chain'd--
+And why--
+
+SEG.
+Nor Nature's guiltless life alone--
+But that which lives on blood and rapine; nay,
+Charter'd with larger liberty to slay
+Their guiltless kind, the tyrants of the air
+Soar zenith-upward with their screaming prey,
+Making pure heaven drop blood upon the stage
+Of under earth, where lion, wolf, and bear,
+And they that on their treacherous velvet wear
+Figure and constellation like your own,
+With their still living slaughter bound away
+Over the barriers of the mountain cage,
+Against which one, blood-guiltless, and endued
+With aspiration and with aptitude
+Transcending other creatures, day by day
+Beats himself mad with unavailing rage!
+
+FIFE.
+Why, that must be the meaning of my mule's
+Rebellion--
+
+ROS.
+Hush!
+
+SEG.
+But then if murder be
+The law by which not only conscience-blind
+Creatures, but man too prospers with his kind;
+Who leaving all his guilty fellows free,
+Under your fatal auspice and divine
+Compulsion, leagued in some mysterious ban
+Against one innocent and helpless man,
+Abuse their liberty to murder mine:
+And sworn to silence, like their masters mute
+In heaven, and like them twirling through the mask
+Of darkness, answering to all I ask,
+Point up to them whose work they execute!
+
+ROS.
+Ev'n as I thought, some poor unhappy wretch,
+By man wrong'd, wretched, unrevenged, as I!
+Nay, so much worse than I, as by those chains
+Clipt of the means of self-revenge on those
+Who lay on him what they deserve. And I,
+Who taunted Heaven a little while ago
+With pouring all its wrath upon my head--
+Alas! like him who caught the cast-off husk
+Of what another bragg'd of feeding on,
+Here's one that from the refuse of my sorrows
+Could gather all the banquet he desires!
+Poor soul, poor soul!
+
+FIFE.
+Speak lower--he will hear you.
+
+ROS.
+And if he should, what then? Why, if he would,
+He could not harm me--Nay, and if he could,
+Methinks I'd venture something of a life
+I care so little for--
+
+SEG.
+Who's that? Clotaldo? Who are you, I say,
+That, venturing in these forbidden rocks,
+Have lighted on my miserable life,
+And your own death?
+
+ROS.
+You would not hurt me, surely?
+
+SEG.
+Not I; but those that, iron as the chain
+In which they slay me with a lingering death,
+Will slay you with a sudden--Who are you?
+
+ROS.
+A stranger from across the mountain there,
+Who, having lost his way in this strange land
+And coming night, drew hither to what seem'd
+A human dwelling hidden in these rocks,
+And where the voice of human sorrow soon
+Told him it was so.
+
+SEG.
+Ay? But nearer--nearer--
+That by this smoky supplement of day
+But for a moment I may see who speaks
+So pitifully sweet.
+
+FIFE.
+Take care! take care!
+
+ROS.
+Alas, poor man, that I, myself so helpless,
+Could better help you than by barren pity,
+And my poor presence--
+
+SEG.
+Oh, might that be all!
+But that--a few poor moments--and, alas!
+The very bliss of having, and the dread
+Of losing, under such a penalty
+As every moment's having runs more near,
+Stifles the very utterance and resource
+They cry for quickest; till from sheer despair
+Of holding thee, methinks myself would tear
+To pieces--
+
+FIFE.
+There, his word's enough for it.
+
+SEG.
+Oh, think, if you who move about at will,
+And live in sweet communion with your kind,
+After an hour lost in these lonely rocks
+Hunger and thirst after some human voice
+To drink, and human face to feed upon;
+What must one do where all is mute, or harsh,
+And ev'n the naked face of cruelty
+Were better than the mask it works beneath?--
+Across the mountain then! Across the mountain!
+What if the next world which they tell one of
+Be only next across the mountain then,
+Though I must never see it till I die,
+And you one of its angels?
+
+ROS.
+Alas; alas!
+No angel! And the face you think so fair,
+'Tis but the dismal frame-work of these rocks
+That makes it seem so; and the world I come from--
+Alas, alas, too many faces there
+Are but fair vizors to black hearts below,
+Or only serve to bring the wearer woe!
+But to yourself--If haply the redress
+That I am here upon may help to yours.
+I heard you tax the heavens with ordering,
+And men for executing, what, alas!
+I now behold. But why, and who they are
+Who do, and you who suffer--
+
+SEG. (pointing upwards).
+Ask of them,
+Whom, as to-night, I have so often ask'd,
+And ask'd in vain.
+
+ROS.
+But surely, surely--
+
+SEG.
+Hark!
+The trumpet of the watch to shut us in.
+Oh, should they find you!--Quick! Behind the rocks!
+To-morrow--if to-morrow--
+
+ROS. (flinging her sword toward him).
+Take my sword!
+
+(Rosaura and Fife hide in the rocks; Enter Clotaldo)
+
+CLOTALDO.
+These stormy days you like to see the last of
+Are but ill opiates, Segismund, I think,
+For night to follow: and to-night you seem
+More than your wont disorder'd. What! A sword?
+Within there!
+
+(Enter Soldiers with black vizors and torches)
+
+FIFE.
+Here's a pleasant masquerade!
+
+CLO.
+Whosever watch this was
+Will have to pay head-reckoning. Meanwhile,
+This weapon had a wearer. Bring him here,
+Alive or dead.
+
+SEG.
+Clotaldo! good Clotaldo!--
+
+CLO. (to Soldiers who enclose Segismund; others searching the rocks).
+You know your duty.
+
+SOLDIERS (bringing in Rosaura and Fife).
+Here are two of them,
+Whoever more to follow--
+
+CLO.
+Who are you,
+That in defiance of known proclamation
+Are found, at night-fall too, about this place?
+
+FIFE.
+Oh, my Lord, she--I mean he--
+
+ROS.
+Silence, Fife,
+And let me speak for both.--Two foreign men,
+To whom your country and its proclamations
+Are equally unknown; and had we known,
+Ourselves not masters of our lawless beasts
+That, terrified by the storm among your rocks,
+Flung us upon them to our cost.
+
+FIFE.
+My mule--
+
+CLO.
+Foreigners? Of what country?
+
+ROS.
+Muscovy.
+
+CLO.
+And whither bound?
+
+ROS.
+Hither--if this be Poland;
+But with no ill design on her, and therefore
+Taking it ill that we should thus be stopt
+Upon her threshold so uncivilly.
+
+CLO.
+Whither in Poland?
+
+ROS.
+To the capital.
+
+CLO.
+And on what errand?
+
+ROS.
+Set me on the road,
+And you shall be the nearer to my answer.
+
+CLO. (aside).
+So resolute and ready to reply,
+And yet so young--and--
+(Aloud.)
+Well,--
+Your business was not surely with the man
+We found you with?
+
+ROS.
+He was the first we saw,--
+And strangers and benighted, as we were,
+As you too would have done in a like case,
+Accosted him at once.
+
+CLO.
+Ay, but this sword?
+
+ROS.
+I flung it toward him.
+
+CLO.
+Well, and why?
+
+ROS.
+And why? But to revenge himself on those who thus
+Injuriously misuse him.
+
+CLO.
+So--so--so!
+'Tis well such resolution wants a beard
+And, I suppose, is never to attain one.
+Well, I must take you both, you and your sword,
+Prisoners.
+
+FIFE. (offering a cudgel).
+Pray take mine, and welcome, sir;
+I'm sure I gave it to that mule of mine
+To mighty little purpose.
+
+ROS.
+Mine you have;
+And may it win us some more kindliness
+Than we have met with yet.
+
+CLO (examining the sword).
+More mystery!
+How came you by this weapon?
+
+ROS.
+From my father.
+
+CLO.
+And do you know whence he?
+
+ROS.
+Oh, very well:
+From one of this same Polish realm of yours,
+Who promised a return, should come the chance,
+Of courtesies that he received himself
+In Muscovy, and left this pledge of it--
+Not likely yet, it seems, to be redeem'd.
+
+CLO (aside).
+Oh, wondrous chance--or wondrous Providence!
+The sword that I myself in Muscovy,
+When these white hairs were black, for keepsake left
+Of obligation for a like return
+To him who saved me wounded as I lay
+Fighting against his country; took me home;
+Tended me like a brother till recover'd,
+Perchance to fight against him once again
+And now my sword put back into my hand
+By his--if not his son--still, as so seeming,
+By me, as first devoir of gratitude,
+To seem believing, till the wearer's self
+See fit to drop the ill-dissembling mask.
+(Aloud.)
+Well, a strange turn of fortune has arrested
+The sharp and sudden penalty that else
+Had visited your rashness or mischance:
+In part, your tender youth too--pardon me,
+And touch not where your sword is not to answer--
+Commends you to my care; not your life only,
+Else by this misadventure forfeited;
+But ev'n your errand, which, by happy chance,
+Chimes with the very business I am on,
+And calls me to the very point you aim at.
+
+ROS.
+The capital?
+
+CLO.
+Ay, the capital; and ev'n
+That capital of capitals, the Court:
+Where you may plead, and, I may promise, win
+Pardon for this, you say unwilling, trespass,
+And prosecute what else you have at heart,
+With me to help you forward all I can;
+Provided all in loyalty to those
+To whom by natural allegiance
+I first am bound to.
+
+ROS.
+As you make, I take
+Your offer: with like promise on my side
+Of loyalty to you and those you serve,
+Under like reservation for regards
+Nearer and dearer still.
+
+CLO.
+Enough, enough;
+Your hand; a bargain on both sides. Meanwhile,
+Here shall you rest to-night. The break of day
+Shall see us both together on the way.
+
+ROS.
+Thus then what I for misadventure blamed,
+Directly draws me where my wishes aim'd.
+
+(Exeunt.)
+
+
+
+SCENE II.
+The Palace at Warsaw
+
+
+Enter on one side Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, with his train: and, on
+the other, the Princess Estrella, with hers.
+
+ASTOLFO.
+My royal cousin, if so near in blood,
+Till this auspicious meeting scarcely known,
+Till all that beauty promised in the bud
+Is now to its consummate blossom blown,
+Well met at last; and may--
+
+ESTRELLA.
+Enough, my Lord,
+Of compliment devised for you by some
+Court tailor, and, believe me, still too short
+To cover the designful heart below.
+
+AST.
+Nay, but indeed, fair cousin--
+
+EST.
+Ay, let Deed
+Measure your words, indeed your flowers of speech
+Ill with your iron equipage atone;
+Irony indeed, and wordy compliment.
+
+AST.
+Indeed, indeed, you wrong me, royal cousin,
+And fair as royal, misinterpreting
+What, even for the end you think I aim at,
+If false to you, were fatal to myself.
+
+EST.
+Why, what else means the glittering steel, my Lord,
+That bristles in the rear of these fine words?
+What can it mean, but, failing to cajole,
+To fight or force me from my just pretension?
+
+AST.
+Nay, might I not ask ev'n the same of you,
+The nodding helmets of whose men-at-arms
+Out-crest the plumage of your lady court?
+
+EST.
+But to defend what yours would force from me.
+
+AST.
+Might not I, lady, say the same of mine?
+But not to come to battle, ev'n of words,
+With a fair lady, and my kinswoman;
+And as averse to stand before your face,
+Defenceless, and condemn'd in your disgrace,
+Till the good king be here to clear it all--
+Will you vouchsafe to hear me?
+
+EST.
+As you will.
+
+AST.
+You know that, when about to leave this world,
+Our royal grandsire, King Alfonso, left
+Three children; one a son, Basilio,
+Who wears--long may he wear! the crown of Poland;
+And daughters twain: of whom the elder was
+Your mother, Clorilena, now some while
+Exalted to a more than mortal throne;
+And Recisunda, mine, the younger sister,
+Who, married to the Prince of Muscovy,
+Gave me the light which may she live to see
+Herself for many, many years to come.
+Meanwhile, good King Basilio, as you know,
+Deep in abstruser studies than this world,
+And busier with the stars than lady's eyes,
+Has never by a second marriage yet
+Replaced, as Poland ask'd of him, the heir
+An early marriage brought and took away;
+His young queen dying with the son she bore him;
+And in such alienation grown so old
+As leaves no other hope of heir to Poland
+Than his two sisters' children; you, fair cousin,
+And me; for whom the Commons of the realm
+Divide themselves into two several factions;
+Whether for you, the elder sister's child;
+Or me, born of the younger, but, they say,
+My natural prerogative of man
+Outweighing your priority of birth.
+Which discord growing loud and dangerous,
+Our uncle, King Basilio, doubly sage
+In prophesying and providing for
+The future, as to deal with it when come,
+Bids us here meet to-day in solemn council
+Our several pretensions to compose.
+And, but the martial out-burst that proclaims
+His coming, makes all further parley vain,
+Unless my bosom, by which only wise
+I prophesy, now wrongly prophesies,
+By such a happy compact as I dare
+But glance at till the Royal Sage declare.
+
+(Trumpets, etc. Enter King Basilio with his Council.)
+
+ALL.
+The King! God save the King!
+
+ESTRELLA (Kneeling.)
+Oh, Royal Sir!--
+
+ASTOLFO (Kneeling.)
+God save your Majesty--
+
+KING.
+Rise both of you,
+Rise to my arms, Astolfo and Estrella;
+As my two sisters' children always mine,
+Now more than ever, since myself and Poland
+Solely to you for our succession look'd.
+And now give ear, you and your several factions,
+And you, the Peers and Princes of this realm,
+While I reveal the purport of this meeting
+In words whose necessary length I trust
+No unsuccessful issue shall excuse.
+You and the world who have surnamed me "Sage"
+Know that I owe that title, if my due,
+To my long meditation on the book
+Which ever lying open overhead--
+The book of heaven, I mean--so few have read;
+Whose golden letters on whose sapphire leaf,
+Distinguishing the page of day and night,
+And all the revolution of the year;
+So with the turning volume where they lie
+Still changing their prophetic syllables,
+They register the destinies of men:
+Until with eyes that, dim with years indeed,
+Are quicker to pursue the stars than rule them,
+I get the start of Time, and from his hand
+The wand of tardy revelation draw.
+Oh, had the self-same heaven upon his page
+Inscribed my death ere I should read my life
+And, by fore-casting of my own mischance,
+Play not the victim but the suicide
+In my own tragedy!--But you shall hear.
+You know how once, as kings must for their people,
+And only once, as wise men for themselves,
+I woo'd and wedded: know too that my Queen
+In childing died; but not, as you believe,
+With her, the son she died in giving life to.
+For, as the hour of birth was on the stroke,
+Her brain conceiving with her womb, she dream'd
+A serpent tore her entrail. And too surely
+(For evil omen seldom speaks in vain)
+The man-child breaking from that living tomb
+That makes our birth the antitype of death,
+Man-grateful, for the life she gave him paid
+By killing her: and with such circumstance
+As suited such unnatural tragedy;
+He coming into light, if light it were
+That darken'd at his very horoscope,
+When heaven's two champions--sun and moon I mean--
+Suffused in blood upon each other fell
+In such a raging duel of eclipse
+As hath not terrified the universe
+Since that which wept in blood the death of Christ:
+When the dead walk'd, the waters turn'd to blood,
+Earth and her cities totter'd, and the world
+Seem'd shaken to its last paralysis.
+In such a paroxysm of dissolution
+That son of mine was born; by that first act
+Heading the monstrous catalogue of crime,
+I found fore-written in his horoscope;
+As great a monster in man's history
+As was in nature his nativity;
+So savage, bloody, terrible, and impious,
+Who, should he live, would tear his country's entrails,
+As by his birth his mother's; with which crime
+Beginning, he should clench the dreadful tale
+By trampling on his father's silver head.
+All which fore-reading, and his act of birth
+Fate's warrant that I read his life aright;
+To save his country from his mother's fate,
+I gave abroad that he had died with her
+His being slew; with midnight secrecy
+I had him carried to a lonely tower
+Hewn from the mountain-barriers of the realm,
+And under strict anathema of death
+Guarded from men's inquisitive approach,
+Save from the trusty few one needs must trust;
+Who while his fasten'd body they provide
+With salutary garb and nourishment,
+Instruct his soul in what no soul may miss
+Of holy faith, and in such other lore
+As may solace his life-imprisonment,
+And tame perhaps the Savage prophesied
+Toward such a trial as I aim at now,
+And now demand your special hearing to.
+What in this fearful business I have done,
+Judge whether lightly or maliciously,--
+I, with my own and only flesh and blood,
+And proper lineal inheritor!
+I swear, had his foretold atrocities
+Touch'd me alone. I had not saved myself
+At such a cost to him; but as a king,--
+A Christian king,--I say, advisedly,
+Who would devote his people to a tyrant
+Worse than Caligula fore-chronicled?
+But even this not without grave mis-giving,
+Lest by some chance mis-reading of the stars,
+Or mis-direction of what rightly read,
+I wrong my son of his prerogative,
+And Poland of her rightful sovereign.
+For, sure and certain prophets as the stars,
+Although they err not, he who reads them may;
+Or rightly reading--seeing there is One
+Who governs them, as, under Him, they us,
+We are not sure if the rough diagram
+They draw in heaven and we interpret here,
+Be sure of operation, if the Will
+Supreme, that sometimes for some special end
+The course of providential nature breaks
+By miracle, may not of these same stars
+Cancel his own first draft, or overrule
+What else fore-written all else overrules.
+As, for example, should the Will Almighty
+Permit the Free-will of particular man
+To break the meshes of else strangling fate--
+Which Free-will, fearful of foretold abuse,
+I have myself from my own son fore-closed
+From ever possible self-extrication;
+A terrible responsibility,
+Not to the conscience to be reconciled
+Unless opposing almost certain evil
+Against so slight contingency of good.
+Well--thus perplex'd, I have resolved at last
+To bring the thing to trial: whereunto
+Here have I summon'd you, my Peers, and you
+Whom I more dearly look to, failing him,
+As witnesses to that which I propose;
+And thus propose the doing it. Clotaldo,
+Who guards my son with old fidelity,
+Shall bring him hither from his tower by night
+Lockt in a sleep so fast as by my art
+I rivet to within a link of death,
+But yet from death so far, that next day's dawn
+Shall wake him up upon the royal bed,
+Complete in consciousness and faculty,
+When with all princely pomp and retinue
+My loyal Peers with due obeisance
+Shall hail him Segismund, the Prince of Poland.
+Then if with any show of human kindness
+He fling discredit, not upon the stars,
+But upon me, their misinterpreter,
+With all apology mistaken age
+Can make to youth it never meant to harm,
+To my son's forehead will I shift the crown
+I long have wish'd upon a younger brow;
+And in religious humiliation,
+For what of worn-out age remains to me,
+Entreat my pardon both of Heaven and him
+For tempting destinies beyond my reach.
+But if, as I misdoubt, at his first step
+The hoof of the predicted savage shows;
+Before predicted mischief can be done,
+The self-same sleep that loosed him from the chain
+Shall re-consign him, not to loose again.
+Then shall I, having lost that heir direct,
+Look solely to my sisters' children twain
+Each of a claim so equal as divides
+The voice of Poland to their several sides,
+But, as I trust, to be entwined ere long
+Into one single wreath so fair and strong
+As shall at once all difference atone,
+And cease the realm's division with their own.
+Cousins and Princes, Peers and Councillors,
+Such is the purport of this invitation,
+And such is my design. Whose furtherance
+If not as Sovereign, if not as Seer,
+Yet one whom these white locks, if nothing else,
+to patient acquiescence consecrate,
+I now demand and even supplicate.
+
+AST.
+Such news, and from such lips, may well suspend
+The tongue to loyal answer most attuned;
+But if to me as spokesman of my faction
+Your Highness looks for answer; I reply
+For one and all--Let Segismund, whom now
+We first hear tell of as your living heir,
+Appear, and but in your sufficient eye
+Approve himself worthy to be your son,
+Then we will hail him Poland's rightful heir.
+What says my cousin?
+
+EST.
+Ay, with all my heart.
+But if my youth and sex upbraid me not
+That I should dare ask of so wise a king--
+
+KING.
+Ask, ask, fair cousin! Nothing, I am sure,
+Not well consider'd; nay, if 'twere, yet nothing
+But pardonable from such lips as those.
+
+EST.
+Then, with your pardon, Sir--if Segismund,
+My cousin, whom I shall rejoice to hail
+As Prince of Poland too, as you propose,
+Be to a trial coming upon which
+More, as I think, than life itself depends,
+Why, Sir, with sleep-disorder'd senses brought
+To this uncertain contest with his stars?
+
+KING.
+Well ask'd indeed! As wisely be it answer'd!
+/Because/ it is uncertain, see you not?
+For as I think I can discern between
+The sudden flaws of a sleep-startled man,
+And of the savage thing we have to dread;
+If but bewilder'd, dazzled, and uncouth,
+As might the sanest and the civilest
+In circumstance so strange--nay, more than that,
+If moved to any out-break short of blood,
+All shall be well with him; and how much more,
+If 'mid the magic turmoil of the change,
+He shall so calm a resolution show
+As scarce to reel beneath so great a blow!
+But if with savage passion uncontroll'd
+He lay about him like the brute foretold,
+And must as suddenly be caged again;
+Then what redoubled anguish and despair,
+From that brief flash of blissful liberty
+Remitted--and for ever--to his chain!
+Which so much less, if on the stage of glory
+Enter'd and exited through such a door
+Of sleep as makes a dream of all between.
+
+EST.
+Oh kindly answer, Sir, to question that
+To charitable courtesy less wise
+Might call for pardon rather! I shall now
+Gladly, what, uninstructed, loyally
+I should have waited.
+
+AST.
+Your Highness doubts not me,
+Nor how my heart follows my cousin's lips,
+Whatever way the doubtful balance fall,
+Still loyal to your bidding.
+
+OMNES.
+So say all.
+
+KING.
+I hoped, and did expect, of all no less--
+And sure no sovereign ever needed more
+From all who owe him love or loyalty.
+For what a strait of time I stand upon,
+When to this issue not alone I bring
+My son your Prince, but e'en myself your King:
+And, whichsoever way for him it turn,
+Of less than little honour to myself.
+For if this coming trial justify
+My thus withholding from my son his right,
+Is not the judge himself justified in
+The father's shame? And if the judge proved wrong,
+My son withholding from his right thus long,
+Shame and remorse to judge and father both:
+Unless remorse and shame together drown'd
+In having what I flung for worthless found.
+But come--already weary with your travel,
+And ill refresh'd by this strange history,
+Until the hours that draw the sun from heaven
+Unite us at the customary board,
+Each to his several chamber: you to rest;
+I to contrive with old Clotaldo best
+The method of a stranger thing than old
+Time has a yet among his records told.
+
+Exeunt.
+
+
+
+ACT II
+
+
+
+SCENE I--A Throne-room in the Palace. Music within.
+
+
+(Enter King and Clotaldo, meeting a Lord in waiting)
+
+KING.
+You, for a moment beckon'd from your office,
+Tell me thus far how goes it. In due time
+The potion left him?
+
+LORD.
+At the very hour
+To which your Highness temper'd it. Yet not
+So wholly but some lingering mist still hung
+About his dawning senses--which to clear,
+We fill'd and handed him a morning drink
+With sleep's specific antidote suffused;
+And while with princely raiment we invested
+What nature surely modell'd for a Prince--
+All but the sword--as you directed--
+
+KING.
+Ay--
+
+LORD.
+If not too loudly, yet emphatically
+Still with the title of a Prince address'd him.
+
+KING.
+How bore he that?
+
+LORD.
+With all the rest, my liege,
+I will not say so like one in a dream
+As one himself misdoubting that he dream'd.
+
+KING.
+So far so well, Clotaldo, either way,
+And best of all if tow'rd the worse I dread.
+But yet no violence?
+
+LORD.
+At most, impatience;
+Wearied perhaps with importunities
+We yet were bound to offer.
+
+KING.
+Oh, Clotaldo!
+Though thus far well, yet would myself had drunk
+The potion he revives from! such suspense
+Crowds all the pulses of life's residue
+Into the present moment; and, I think,
+Whichever way the trembling scale may turn,
+Will leave the crown of Poland for some one
+To wait no longer than the setting sun!
+
+CLO.
+Courage, my liege! The curtain is undrawn,
+And each must play his part out manfully,
+Leaving the rest to heaven.
+
+KING.
+Whose written words
+If I should misinterpret or transgress!
+But as you say--
+(To the Lord, who exit.)
+You, back to him at once;
+Clotaldo, you, when he is somewhat used
+To the new world of which they call him Prince,
+Where place and face, and all, is strange to him,
+With your known features and familiar garb
+Shall then, as chorus to the scene, accost him,
+And by such earnest of that old and too
+Familiar world, assure him of the new.
+Last in the strange procession, I myself
+Will by one full and last development
+Complete the plot for that catastrophe
+That he must put to all; God grant it be
+The crown of Poland on his brows!--Hark! hark!--
+Was that his voice within!--Now louder--Oh,
+Clotaldo, what! so soon begun to roar!--
+Again! above the music-- But betide
+What may, until the moment, we must hide.
+
+(Exeunt King and Clotaldo.)
+
+SEGISMUND (within).
+Forbear! I stifle with your perfume! Cease
+Your crazy salutations! peace, I say
+Begone, or let me go, ere I go mad
+With all this babble, mummery, and glare,
+For I am growing dangerous--Air! room! air!--
+(He rushes in. Music ceases.)
+Oh but to save the reeling brain from wreck
+With its bewilder'd senses!
+(He covers his eyes for a while.)
+What! E'en now
+That Babel left behind me, but my eyes
+Pursued by the same glamour, that--unless
+Alike bewitch'd too--the confederate sense
+Vouches for palpable: bright-shining floors
+That ring hard answer back to the stamp'd heel,
+And shoot up airy columns marble-cold,
+That, as they climb, break into golden leaf
+And capital, till they embrace aloft
+In clustering flower and fruitage over walls
+Hung with such purple curtain as the West
+Fringes with such a gold; or over-laid
+With sanguine-glowing semblances of men,
+Each in his all but living action busied,
+Or from the wall they look from, with fix'd eyes
+Pursuing me; and one most strange of all
+That, as I pass'd the crystal on the wall,
+Look'd from it--left it--and as I return,
+Returns, and looks me face to face again--
+Unless some false reflection of my brain,
+The outward semblance of myself--Myself?
+How know that tawdry shadow for myself,
+But that it moves as I move; lifts his hand
+With mine; each motion echoing so close
+The immediate suggestion of the will
+In which myself I recognize--Myself!--
+What, this fantastic Segismund the same
+Who last night, as for all his nights before,
+Lay down to sleep in wolf-skin on the ground
+In a black turret which the wolf howl'd round,
+And woke again upon a golden bed,
+Round which as clouds about a rising sun,
+In scarce less glittering caparison,
+Gather'd gay shapes that, underneath a breeze
+Of music, handed him upon their knees
+The wine of heaven in a cup of gold,
+And still in soft melodious under-song
+Hailing me Prince of Poland!--'Segismund,'
+They said, 'Our Prince! The Prince of Poland!' and
+Again, 'Oh, welcome, welcome, to his own,
+'Our own Prince Segismund--'
+Oh, but a blast--
+One blast of the rough mountain air! one look
+At the grim features--
+(He goes to the window.)
+What they disvizor'd also! shatter'd chaos
+Cast into stately shape and masonry,
+Between whose channel'd and perspective sides
+Compact with rooted towers, and flourishing
+To heaven with gilded pinnacle and spire,
+Flows the live current ever to and fro
+With open aspect and free step!--Clotaldo!
+Clotaldo!--calling as one scarce dares call
+For him who suddenly might break the spell
+One fears to walk without him--Why, that I,
+With unencumber'd step as any there,
+Go stumbling through my glory--feeling for
+That iron leading-string--ay, for myself--
+For that fast-anchor'd self of yesterday,
+Of yesterday, and all my life before,
+Ere drifted clean from self-identity
+Upon the fluctuation of to-day's
+Mad whirling circumstance!--And, fool, why not?
+If reason, sense, and self-identity
+Obliterated from a worn-out brain,
+Art thou not maddest striving to be sane,
+And catching at that Self of yesterday
+That, like a leper's rags, best flung away!
+Or if not mad, then dreaming--dreaming?--well--
+Dreaming then--Or, if self to self be true,
+Not mock'd by that, but as poor souls have been
+By those who wrong'd them, to give wrong new relish?
+Or have those stars indeed they told me of
+As masters of my wretched life of old,
+Into some happier constellation roll'd,
+And brought my better fortune out on earth
+Clear as themselves in heaven!--Prince Segismund
+They call'd me--and at will I shook them off--
+Will they return again at my command
+Again to call me so?--Within there! You!
+Segismund calls--Prince Segismund--
+
+(He has seated himself on the throne. Enter Chamberlain, with lords in
+waiting.)
+
+CHAMB.
+I rejoice
+That unadvised of any but the voice
+Of royal instinct in the blood, your Highness
+Has ta'en the chair that you were born to fill.
+
+SEG.
+The chair?
+
+CHAMB.
+The royal throne of Poland, Sir,
+Which may your Royal Highness keep as long
+As he that now rules from it shall have ruled
+When heaven has call'd him to itself.
+
+SEG.
+When he?--
+
+CHAMB.
+Your royal father, King Basilio, Sir.
+
+SEG.
+My royal father--King Basilio.
+You see I answer but as Echo does,
+Not knowing what she listens or repeats.
+This is my throne--this is my palace--Oh,
+But this out of the window?--
+
+CHAMB.
+Warsaw, Sir,
+Your capital--
+
+SEG.
+And all the moving people?
+
+CHAMB.
+Your subjects and your vassals like ourselves.
+
+SEG.
+Ay, ay--my subjects--in my capital--
+Warsaw--and I am Prince of it--You see
+It needs much iteration to strike sense
+Into the human echo.
+
+CHAMB.
+Left awhile
+In the quick brain, the word will quickly to
+Full meaning blow.
+
+SEG.
+You think so?
+
+CHAMB.
+And meanwhile
+Lest our obsequiousness, which means no worse
+Than customary honour to the Prince
+We most rejoice to welcome, trouble you,
+Should we retire again? or stand apart?
+Or would your Highness have the music play
+Again, which meditation, as they say,
+So often loves to float upon?
+
+SEG.
+The music?
+No--yes--perhaps the trumpet--
+(Aside)
+Yet if that
+Brought back the troop!
+
+A LORD.
+The trumpet! There again
+How trumpet-like spoke out the blood of Poland!
+
+CHAMB.
+Before the morning is far up, your Highness
+Will have the trumpet marshalling your soldiers
+Under the Palace windows.
+
+SEG.
+Ah, my soldiers--
+My soldiers--not black-vizor'd?--
+
+CHAMB.
+Sir?
+
+SEG.
+No matter.
+But--one thing--for a moment--in your ear--
+Do you know one Clotaldo?
+
+CHAMB.
+Oh, my Lord,
+He and myself together, I may say,
+Although in different vocations,
+Have silver'd in your royal father's service;
+And, as I trust, with both of us a few
+White hairs to fall in yours.
+
+SEG.
+Well said, well said!
+Basilio, my father--well--Clotaldo
+Is he my kinsman too?
+
+CHAMB.
+Oh, my good Lord,
+A General simply in your Highness' service,
+Than whom your Highness has no trustier.
+
+SEG.
+Ay, so you said before, I think. And you
+With that white wand of yours--
+Why, now I think on't, I have read of such
+A silver-hair'd magician with a wand,
+Who in a moment, with a wave of it,
+Turn'd rags to jewels, clowns to emperors,
+By some benigner magic than the stars
+Spirited poor good people out of hand
+From all their woes; in some enchanted sleep
+Carried them off on cloud or dragon-back
+Over the mountains, over the wide Deep,
+And set them down to wake in Fairyland.
+
+CHAMB.
+Oh, my good Lord, you laugh at me--and I
+Right glad to make you laugh at such a price:
+You know me no enchanter: if I were,
+I and my wand as much as your Highness',
+As now your chamberlain--
+
+SEG.
+My chamberlain?--
+And these that follow you?--
+
+CHAMB.
+On you, my Lord,
+Your Highness' lords in waiting.
+
+SEG.
+Lords in waiting.
+Well, I have now learn'd to repeat, I think,
+If only but by rote--This is my palace,
+And this my throne--which unadvised--And that
+Out of the window there my Capital;
+And all the people moving up and down
+My subjects and my vassals like yourselves,
+My chamberlain--and lords in waiting--and
+Clotaldo--and Clotaldo?--
+You are an aged, and seem a reverend man--
+You do not--though his fellow-officer--
+You do not mean to mock me?
+
+CHAMB.
+Oh, my Lord!
+
+SEG.
+Well then--If no magician, as you say,
+Yet setting me a riddle, that my brain,
+With all its senses whirling, cannot solve,
+Yourself or one of these with you must answer--
+How I--that only last night fell asleep
+Not knowing that the very soil of earth
+I lay down--chain'd--to sleep upon was Poland--
+Awake to find myself the Lord of it,
+With Lords, and Generals, and Chamberlains,
+And ev'n my very Gaoler, for my vassals!
+
+Enter suddenly Clotaldo
+
+CLOTALDO.
+Stand all aside
+That I may put into his hand the clue
+To lead him out of this amazement. Sir,
+Vouchsafe your Highness from my bended knee
+Receive my homage first.
+
+SEG.
+Clotaldo! What,
+At last--his old self--undisguised where all
+Is masquerade--to end it!--You kneeling too!
+What! have the stars you told me long ago
+Laid that old work upon you, added this,
+That, having chain'd your prisoner so long,
+You loose his body now to slay his wits,
+Dragging him--how I know not--whither scarce
+I understand--dressing him up in all
+This frippery, with your dumb familiars
+Disvizor'd, and their lips unlock'd to lie,
+Calling him Prince and King, and, madman-like,
+Setting a crown of straw upon his head?
+
+CLO.
+Would but your Highness, as indeed I now
+Must call you--and upon his bended knee
+Never bent Subject more devotedly--
+However all about you, and perhaps
+You to yourself incomprehensiblest,
+But rest in the assurance of your own
+Sane waking senses, by these witnesses
+Attested, till the story of it all,
+Of which I bring a chapter, be reveal'd,
+Assured of all you see and hear as neither
+Madness nor mockery--
+
+SEG.
+What then?
+
+CLO.
+All it seems:
+This palace with its royal garniture;
+This capital of which it is the eye,
+With all its temples, marts, and arsenals;
+This realm of which this city is the head,
+With all its cities, villages, and tilth,
+Its armies, fleets, and commerce; all your own;
+And all the living souls that make them up,
+From those who now, and those who shall, salute you,
+Down to the poorest peasant of the realm,
+Your subjects--Who, though now their mighty voice
+Sleeps in the general body unapprized,
+Wait but a word from those about you now
+To hail you Prince of Poland, Segismund.
+
+SEG.
+All this is so?
+
+CLO.
+As sure as anything
+Is, or can be.
+
+SEG.
+You swear it on the faith
+You taught me--elsewhere?--
+
+CLO (kissing the hilt of his sword).
+Swear it upon this Symbol,
+and champion of the holy faith
+I wear it to defend.
+
+SEG (to himself).
+My eyes have not deceived me, nor my ears,
+With this transfiguration, nor the strain
+Of royal welcome that arose and blew,
+Breathed from no lying lips, along with it.
+For here Clotaldo comes, his own old self,
+Who, if not Lie and phantom with the rest--
+(Aloud)
+Well, then, all this is thus.
+For have not these fine people told me so,
+And you, Clotaldo, sworn it? And the Why
+And Wherefore are to follow by and bye!
+And yet--and yet--why wait for that which you
+Who take your oath on it can answer--and
+Indeed it presses hard upon my brain--
+What I was asking of these gentlemen
+When you came in upon us; how it is
+That I--the Segismund you know so long
+No longer than the sun that rose to-day
+Rose--and from what you know--
+Rose to be Prince of Poland?
+
+CLO.
+So to be
+Acknowledged and entreated, Sir.
+
+SEG.
+So be
+Acknowledged and entreated--
+Well--But if now by all, by some at least
+So known--if not entreated--heretofore--
+Though not by you--For, now I think again,
+Of what should be your attestation worth,
+You that of all my questionable subjects
+Who knowing what, yet left me where I was,
+You least of all, Clotaldo, till the dawn
+Of this first day that told it to myself?
+
+CLO.
+Oh, let your Highness draw the line across
+Fore-written sorrow, and in this new dawn
+Bury that long sad night.
+
+SEG.
+Not ev'n the Dead,
+Call'd to the resurrection of the blest,
+Shall so directly drop all memory
+Of woes and wrongs foregone!
+
+CLO.
+But not resent--
+Purged by the trial of that sorrow past
+For full fruition of their present bliss.
+
+SEG.
+But leaving with the Judge what, till this earth
+Be cancell'd in the burning heavens, He leaves
+His earthly delegates to execute,
+Of retribution in reward to them
+And woe to those who wrong'd them--Not as you,
+Not you, Clotaldo, knowing not--And yet
+Ev'n to the guiltiest wretch in all the realm,
+Of any treason guilty short of that,
+Stern usage--but assuredly not knowing,
+Not knowing 'twas your sovereign lord, Clotaldo,
+You used so sternly.
+
+CLO.
+Ay, sir; with the same
+Devotion and fidelity that now
+Does homage to him for my sovereign.
+
+SEG.
+Fidelity that held his Prince in chains!
+
+CLO.
+Fidelity more fast than had it loosed him--
+
+SEG.
+Ev'n from the very dawn of consciousness
+Down at the bottom of the barren rocks,
+Where scarce a ray of sunshine found him out,
+In which the poorest beggar of my realm
+At least to human-full proportion grows--
+Me! Me--whose station was the kingdom's top
+To flourish in, reaching my head to heaven,
+And with my branches overshadowing
+The meaner growth below!
+
+CLO.
+Still with the same
+Fidelity--
+
+SEG.
+To me!--
+
+CLO.
+Ay, sir, to you,
+Through that divine allegiance upon which
+All Order and Authority is based;
+Which to revolt against--
+
+SEG.
+Were to revolt
+Against the stars, belike!
+
+CLO.
+And him who reads them;
+And by that right, and by the sovereignty
+He wears as you shall wear it after him;
+Ay, one to whom yourself--
+Yourself, ev'n more than any subject here,
+Are bound by yet another and more strong
+Allegiance--King Basilio--your Father--
+
+SEG.
+Basilio--King--my father!--
+
+CLO.
+Oh, my Lord,
+Let me beseech you on my bended knee,
+For your own sake--for Poland's--and for his,
+Who, looking up for counsel to the skies,
+Did what he did under authority
+To which the kings of earth themselves are subject,
+And whose behest not only he that suffers,
+But he that executes, not comprehends,
+But only He that orders it--
+
+SEG.
+The King--
+My father!--Either I am mad already,
+Or that way driving fast--or I should know
+That fathers do not use their children so,
+Or men were loosed from all allegiance
+To fathers, kings, and heaven that order'd all.
+But, mad or not, my hour is come, and I
+Will have my reckoning--Either you lie,
+Under the skirt of sinless majesty
+Shrouding your treason; or if /that/ indeed,
+Guilty itself, take refuge in the stars
+That cannot hear the charge, or disavow--
+You, whether doer or deviser, who
+Come first to hand, shall pay the penalty
+By the same hand you owe it to--
+(Seizing Clotaldo's sword and about to strike him.)
+
+(Enter Rosaura suddenly.)
+
+ROSAURA.
+Fie, my Lord--forbear,
+What! a young hand raised against silver hair!--
+
+(She retreats through the crowd.)
+
+SEG.
+Stay! stay! What come and vanish'd as before--
+I scarce remember how--but--
+
+(Voices within. Room for Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy!)
+
+(Enter Astolfo)
+
+ASTOLFO.
+Welcome, thrice welcome, the auspicious day,
+When from the mountain where he darkling lay,
+The Polish sun into the firmament
+Sprung all the brighter for his late ascent,
+And in meridian glory--
+
+SEG.
+Where is he?
+Why must I ask this twice?--
+
+A LORD.
+The Page, my Lord?
+I wonder at his boldness--
+
+SEG.
+But I tell you
+He came with Angel written in his face
+As now it is, when all was black as hell
+About, and none of you who now--he came,
+And Angel-like flung me a shining sword
+To cut my way through darkness; and again
+Angel-like wrests it from me in behalf
+Of one--whom I will spare for sparing him:
+But he must come and plead with that same voice
+That pray'd for me--in vain.
+
+CHAMB.
+He is gone for,
+And shall attend your pleasure, sir. Meanwhile,
+Will not your Highness, as in courtesy,
+Return your royal cousin's greeting?
+
+SEG.
+Whose?
+
+CHAMB.
+Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, my Lord,
+Saluted, and with gallant compliment
+Welcomed you to your royal title.
+
+SEG. (to Astolfo).
+Oh--
+You knew of this then?
+
+AST.
+Knew of what, my Lord?
+
+SEG.
+That I was Prince of Poland all the while,
+And you my subject?
+
+AST.
+Pardon me, my Lord,
+But some few hours ago myself I learn'd
+Your dignity; but, knowing it, no more
+Than when I knew it not, your subject.
+
+SEG.
+What then?
+
+AST.
+Your Highness' chamberlain ev'n now has told you;
+Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy,
+Your father's sister's son; your cousin, sir:
+And who as such, and in his own right Prince,
+Expects from you the courtesy he shows.
+
+CHAMB.
+His Highness is as yet unused to Court,
+And to the ceremonious interchange
+Of compliment, especially to those
+Who draw their blood from the same royal fountain.
+
+SEG.
+Where is the lad? I weary of all this--
+Prince, cousins, chamberlains, and compliments--
+Where are my soldiers? Blow the trumpet, and
+With one sharp blast scatter these butterflies
+And bring the men of iron to my side,
+With whom a king feels like a king indeed!
+
+(Voices within. Within there! room for the Princess Estrella!)
+
+(Enter Estrella with Ladies.)
+
+ESTRELLA.
+Welcome, my Lord, right welcome to the throne
+That much too long has waited for your coming:
+And, in the general voice of Poland, hear
+A kinswoman and cousin's no less sincere.
+
+SEG.
+Ay, this is welcome-worth indeed,
+And cousin cousin-worth! Oh, I have thus
+Over the threshold of the mountain seen,
+Leading a bevy of fair stars, the moon
+Enter the court of heaven--My kinswoman!
+My cousin! But my subject?--
+
+EST.
+If you please
+To count your cousin for your subject, sir,
+You shall not find her a disloyal.
+
+SEG.
+Oh,
+But there are twin stars in that heavenly face,
+That now I know for having over-ruled
+Those evil ones that darken'd all my past
+And brought me forth from that captivity
+To be the slave of her who set me free.
+
+EST.
+Indeed, my Lord, these eyes have no such power
+Over the past or present: but perhaps
+They brighten at your welcome to supply
+The little that a lady's speech commends;
+And in the hope that, let whichever be
+The other's subject, we may both be friends.
+
+SEG.
+Your hand to that--But why does this warm hand
+Shoot a cold shudder through me?
+
+EST.
+In revenge
+For likening me to that cold moon, perhaps.
+
+SEG.
+Oh, but the lip whose music tells me so
+Breathes of a warmer planet, and that lip
+Shall remedy the treason of the hand!
+(He catches to embrace her.)
+
+EST.
+Release me, sir!
+
+CHAMB.
+And pardon me, my Lord.
+This lady is a Princess absolute,
+As Prince he is who just saluted you,
+And claims her by affiance.
+
+SEG.
+Hence, old fool,
+For ever thrusting that white stick of yours
+Between me and my pleasure!
+
+AST.
+This cause is mine.
+Forbear, sir--
+
+SEG.
+What, sir mouth-piece, you again?
+
+AST.
+My Lord, I waive your insult to myself
+In recognition of the dignity
+You yet are new to, and that greater still
+You look in time to wear. But for this lady--
+Whom, if my cousin now, I hope to claim
+Henceforth by yet a nearer, dearer name--
+
+SEG.
+And what care I? She is my cousin too:
+And if you be a Prince--well, am not I
+Lord of the very soil you stand upon?
+By that, and by that right beside of blood
+That like a fiery fountain hitherto
+Pent in the rock leaps toward her at her touch,
+Mine, before all the cousins in Muscovy!
+You call me Prince of Poland, and yourselves
+My subjects--traitors therefore to this hour,
+Who let me perish all my youth away
+Chain'd there among the mountains; till, forsooth,
+Terrified at your treachery foregone,
+You spirit me up here, I know not how,
+Popinjay-like invest me like yourselves,
+Choke me with scent and music that I loathe,
+And, worse than all the music and the scent,
+With false, long-winded, fulsome compliment,
+That 'Oh, you are my subjects!' and in word
+Reiterating still obedience,
+Thwart me in deed at every step I take:
+When just about to wreak a just revenge
+Upon that old arch-traitor of you all,
+Filch from my vengeance him I hate; and him
+I loved--the first and only face--till this--
+I cared to look on in your ugly court--
+And now when palpably I grasp at last
+What hitherto but shadow'd in my dreams--
+Affiances and interferences,
+The first who dares to meddle with me more--
+Princes and chamberlains and counsellors,
+Touch her who dares!--
+
+AST.
+That dare I--
+
+SEG. (seizing him by the throat).
+You dare!
+
+CHAMB.
+My Lord!--
+
+A LORD.
+His strength's a lion's--
+
+(Voices within. The King! The King!--)
+
+(Enter King.)
+
+A LORD.
+And on a sudden how he stands at gaze
+As might a wolf just fasten'd on his prey,
+Glaring at a suddenly encounter'd lion.
+
+KING.
+And I that hither flew with open arms
+To fold them round my son, must now return
+To press them to an empty heart again!
+(He sits on the throne.)
+
+SEG.
+That is the King?--My father?
+(After a long pause.)
+I have heard
+That sometimes some blind instinct has been known
+To draw to mutual recognition those
+Of the same blood, beyond all memory
+Divided, or ev'n never met before.
+I know not how this is--perhaps in brutes
+That live by kindlier instincts--but I know
+That looking now upon that head whose crown
+Pronounces him a sovereign king, I feel
+No setting of the current in my blood
+Tow'rd him as sire. How is't with you, old man,
+Tow'rd him they call your son?--
+
+KING.
+Alas! Alas!
+
+SEG.
+Your sorrow, then?
+
+KING.
+Beholding what I do.
+
+SEG.
+Ay, but how know this sorrow that has grown
+And moulded to this present shape of man,
+As of your own creation?
+
+KING.
+Ev'n from birth.
+
+SEG.
+But from that hour to this, near, as I think,
+Some twenty such renewals of the year
+As trace themselves upon the barren rocks,
+I never saw you, nor you me--unless,
+Unless, indeed, through one of those dark masks
+Through which a son might fail to recognize
+The best of fathers.
+
+KING.
+Be that as you will:
+But, now we see each other face to face,
+Know me as you I know; which did I not,
+By whatsoever signs, assuredly
+You were not here to prove it at my risk.
+
+SEG.
+You are my father.
+And is it true then, as Clotaldo swears,
+'Twas you that from the dawning birth of one
+Yourself brought into being,--you, I say,
+Who stole his very birthright; not alone
+That secondary and peculiar right
+Of sovereignty, but even that prime
+Inheritance that all men share alike,
+And chain'd him--chain'd him!--like a wild beast's whelp.
+Among as savage mountains, to this hour?
+Answer if this be thus.
+
+KING.
+Oh, Segismund,
+In all that I have done that seems to you,
+And, without further hearing, fairly seems,
+Unnatural and cruel--'twas not I,
+But One who writes His order in the sky
+I dared not misinterpret nor neglect,
+Who knows with what reluctance--
+
+SEG.
+Oh, those stars,
+Those stars, that too far up from human blame
+To clear themselves, or careless of the charge,
+Still bear upon their shining shoulders all
+The guilt men shift upon them!
+
+KING.
+Nay, but think:
+Not only on the common score of kind,
+But that peculiar count of sovereignty--
+If not behind the beast in brain as heart,
+How should I thus deal with my innocent child,
+Doubly desired, and doubly dear when come,
+As that sweet second-self that all desire,
+And princes more than all, to root themselves
+By that succession in their people's hearts,
+Unless at that superior Will, to which
+Not kings alone, but sovereign nature bows?
+
+SEG.
+And what had those same stars to tell of me
+That should compel a father and a king
+So much against that double instinct?
+
+KING.
+That,
+Which I have brought you hither, at my peril,
+Against their written warning, to disprove,
+By justice, mercy, human kindliness.
+
+SEG.
+And therefore made yourself their instrument
+To make your son the savage and the brute
+They only prophesied?--Are you not afear'd,
+Lest, irrespective as such creatures are
+Of such relationship, the brute you made
+Revenge the man you marr'd--like sire, like son.
+To do by you as you by me have done?
+
+KING.
+You never had a savage heart from me;
+I may appeal to Poland.
+
+SEG.
+Then from whom?
+If pure in fountain, poison'd by yourself
+When scarce begun to flow.--To make a man
+Not, as I see, degraded from the mould
+I came from, nor compared to those about,
+And then to throw your own flesh to the dogs!--
+Why not at once, I say, if terrified
+At the prophetic omens of my birth,
+Have drown'd or stifled me, as they do whelps
+Too costly or too dangerous to keep?
+
+KING.
+That, living, you might learn to live, and rule
+Yourself and Poland.
+
+SEG.
+By the means you took
+To spoil for either?
+
+KING.
+Nay, but, Segismund!
+You know not--cannot know--happily wanting
+The sad experience on which knowledge grows,
+How the too early consciousness of power
+Spoils the best blood; nor whether for your long
+Constrain'd disheritance (which, but for me,
+Remember, and for my relenting love
+Bursting the bond of fate, had been eternal)
+You have not now a full indemnity;
+Wearing the blossom of your youth unspent
+In the voluptuous sunshine of a court,
+That often, by too early blossoming,
+Too soon deflowers the rose of royalty.
+
+SEG.
+Ay, but what some precocious warmth may spill,
+May not an early frost as surely kill?
+
+KING.
+But, Segismund, my son, whose quick discourse
+Proves I have not extinguish'd and destroy'd
+The Man you charge me with extinguishing,
+However it condemn me for the fault
+Of keeping a good light so long eclipsed,
+Reflect! This is the moment upon which
+Those stars, whose eyes, although we see them not,
+By day as well as night are on us still,
+Hang watching up in the meridian heaven
+Which way the balance turns; and if to you--
+As by your dealing God decide it may,
+To my confusion!--let me answer it
+Unto yourself alone, who shall at once
+Approve yourself to be your father's judge,
+And sovereign of Poland in his stead,
+By justice, mercy, self-sobriety,
+And all the reasonable attributes
+Without which, impotent to rule himself,
+Others one cannot, and one must not rule;
+But which if you but show the blossom of--
+All that is past we shall but look upon
+As the first out-fling of a generous nature
+Rioting in first liberty; and if
+This blossom do but promise such a flower
+As promises in turn its kindly fruit:
+Forthwith upon your brows the royal crown,
+That now weighs heavy on my aged brows,
+I will devolve; and while I pass away
+Into some cloister, with my Maker there
+To make my peace in penitence and prayer,
+Happily settle the disorder'd realm
+That now cries loudly for a lineal heir.
+
+SEG.
+And so--
+When the crown falters on your shaking head,
+And slips the sceptre from your palsied hand,
+And Poland for her rightful heir cries out;
+When not only your stol'n monopoly
+Fails you of earthly power, but 'cross the grave
+The judgment-trumpet of another world
+Calls you to count for your abuse of this;
+Then, oh then, terrified by the double danger,
+You drag me from my den--
+Boast not of giving up at last the power
+You can no longer hold, and never rightly
+Held, but in fee for him you robb'd it from;
+And be assured your Savage, once let loose,
+Will not be caged again so quickly; not
+By threat or adulation to be tamed,
+Till he have had his quarrel out with those
+Who made him what he is.
+
+KING.
+Beware! Beware!
+Subdue the kindled Tiger in your eye,
+Nor dream that it was sheer necessity
+Made me thus far relax the bond of fate,
+And, with far more of terror than of hope
+Threaten myself, my people, and the State.
+Know that, if old, I yet have vigour left
+To wield the sword as well as wear the crown;
+And if my more immediate issue fail,
+Not wanting scions of collateral blood,
+Whose wholesome growth shall more than compensate
+For all the loss of a distorted stem.
+
+SEG.
+That will I straightway bring to trial--Oh,
+After a revelation such as this,
+The Last Day shall have little left to show
+Of righted wrong and villainy requited!
+Nay, Judgment now beginning upon earth,
+Myself, methinks, in sight of all my wrongs,
+Appointed heaven's avenging minister,
+Accuser, judge, and executioner
+Sword in hand, cite the guilty--First, as worst,
+The usurper of his son's inheritance;
+Him and his old accomplice, time and crime
+Inveterate, and unable to repay
+The golden years of life they stole away.
+What, does he yet maintain his state, and keep
+The throne he should be judged from? Down with him,
+That I may trample on the false white head
+So long has worn my crown! Where are my soldiers?
+Of all my subjects and my vassals here
+Not one to do my bidding? Hark! A trumpet!
+The trumpet--
+
+(He pauses as the trumpet sounds as in Act I., and masked Soldiers
+gradually fill in behind the Throne.)
+
+KING (rising before his throne).
+Ay, indeed, the trumpet blows
+A memorable note, to summon those
+Who, if forthwith you fall not at the feet
+Of him whose head you threaten with the dust,
+Forthwith shall draw the curtain of the Past
+About you; and this momentary gleam
+Of glory that you think to hold life-fast,
+So coming, so shall vanish, as a dream.
+
+SEG.
+He prophesies; the old man prophesies;
+And, at his trumpet's summons, from the tower
+The leash-bound shadows loosen'd after me
+My rising glory reach and over-lour--
+But, reach not I my height, he shall not hold,
+But with me back to his own darkness!
+(He dashes toward the throne and is enclosed by the soldiers.)
+Traitors!
+Hold off! Unhand me!--Am not I your king?
+And you would strangle him!--
+But I am breaking with an inward Fire
+Shall scorch you off, and wrap me on the wings
+Of conflagration from a kindled pyre
+Of lying prophecies and prophet-kings
+Above the extinguish'd stars--Reach me the sword
+He flung me--Fill me such a bowl of wine
+As that you woke the day with--
+
+KING.
+And shall close,--
+But of the vintage that Clotaldo knows.
+
+(Exeunt.)
+
+
+
+ACT III.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--The Tower, etc., as in Act I. Scene I.
+Segismund, as at first, and Clotaldo
+
+
+CLOTALDO.
+Princes and princesses, and counsellors
+Fluster'd to right and left--my life made at--
+But that was nothing
+Even the white-hair'd, venerable King
+Seized on--Indeed, you made wild work of it;
+And so discover'd in your outward action,
+Flinging your arms about you in your sleep,
+Grinding your teeth--and, as I now remember,
+Woke mouthing out judgment and execution,
+On those about you.
+
+SEG.
+Ay, I did indeed.
+
+CLO.
+Ev'n now your eyes stare wild; your hair stands up--
+Your pulses throb and flutter, reeling still
+Under the storm of such a dream--
+
+SEG.
+A dream!
+That seem'd as swearable reality
+As what I wake in now.
+
+CLO.
+Ay--wondrous how
+Imagination in a sleeping brain
+Out of the uncontingent senses draws
+Sensations strong as from the real touch;
+That we not only laugh aloud, and drench
+With tears our pillow; but in the agony
+Of some imaginary conflict, fight
+And struggle--ev'n as you did; some, 'tis thought,
+Under the dreamt-of stroke of death have died.
+
+SEG.
+And what so very strange too--In that world
+Where place as well as people all was strange,
+Ev'n I almost as strange unto myself,
+You only, you, Clotaldo--you, as much
+And palpably yourself as now you are,
+Came in this very garb you ever wore,
+By such a token of the past, you said,
+To assure me of that seeming present.
+
+CLO.
+Ay?
+
+SEG.
+Ay; and even told me of the very stars
+You tell me here of--how in spite of them,
+I was enlarged to all that glory.
+
+CLO.
+Ay, By the false spirits' nice contrivance thus
+A little truth oft leavens all the false,
+The better to delude us.
+
+SEG.
+For you know
+'Tis nothing but a dream?
+
+CLO.
+Nay, you yourself
+Know best how lately you awoke from that
+You know you went to sleep on?--
+Why, have you never dreamt the like before?
+
+SEG.
+Never, to such reality.
+
+CLO.
+Such dreams
+Are oftentimes the sleeping exhalations
+Of that ambition that lies smouldering
+Under the ashes of the lowest fortune;
+By which, when reason slumbers, or has lost
+The reins of sensible comparison,
+We fly at something higher than we are--
+Scarce ever dive to lower--to be kings,
+Or conquerors, crown'd with laurel or with gold,
+Nay, mounting heaven itself on eagle wings.
+Which, by the way, now that I think of it,
+May furnish us the key to this high flight
+That royal Eagle we were watching, and
+Talking of as you went to sleep last night.
+
+SEG.
+Last night? Last night?
+
+CLO.
+Ay, do you not remember
+Envying his immunity of flight,
+As, rising from his throne of rock, he sail'd
+Above the mountains far into the West,
+That burn'd about him, while with poising wings
+He darkled in it as a burning brand
+Is seen to smoulder in the fire it feeds?
+
+SEG.
+Last night--last night--Oh, what a day was that
+Between that last night and this sad To-day!
+
+CLO.
+And yet, perhaps,
+Only some few dark moments, into which
+Imagination, once lit up within
+And unconditional of time and space,
+Can pour infinities.
+
+SEG.
+And I remember
+How the old man they call'd the King, who wore
+The crown of gold about his silver hair,
+And a mysterious girdle round his waist,
+Just when my rage was roaring at its height,
+And after which it all was dark again,
+Bid me beware lest all should be a dream.
+
+CLO.
+Ay--there another specialty of dreams,
+That once the dreamer 'gins to dream he dreams,
+His foot is on the very verge of waking.
+
+SEG.
+Would it had been upon the verge of death
+That knows no waking--
+Lifting me up to glory, to fall back,
+Stunn'd, crippled--wretcheder than ev'n before.
+
+CLO.
+Yet not so glorious, Segismund, if you
+Your visionary honour wore so ill
+As to work murder and revenge on those
+Who meant you well.
+
+SEG.
+Who meant me!--me! their Prince
+Chain'd like a felon--
+
+CLO.
+Stay, stay--Not so fast,
+You dream'd the Prince, remember.
+
+SEG.
+Then in dream
+Revenged it only.
+
+CLO.
+True. But as they say
+Dreams are rough copies of the waking soul
+Yet uncorrected of the higher Will,
+So that men sometimes in their dreams confess
+An unsuspected, or forgotten, self;
+One must beware to check--ay, if one may,
+Stifle ere born, such passion in ourselves
+As makes, we see, such havoc with our sleep,
+And ill reacts upon the waking day.
+And, by the bye, for one test, Segismund,
+Between such swearable realities--
+Since Dreaming, Madness, Passion, are akin
+In missing each that salutary rein
+Of reason, and the guiding will of man:
+One test, I think, of waking sanity
+Shall be that conscious power of self-control,
+To curb all passion, but much most of all
+That evil and vindictive, that ill squares
+With human, and with holy canon less,
+Which bids us pardon ev'n our enemies,
+And much more those who, out of no ill will,
+Mistakenly have taken up the rod
+Which heaven, they think, has put into their hands.
+
+SEG.
+I think I soon shall have to try again--
+Sleep has not yet done with me.
+
+CLO.
+Such a sleep.
+Take my advice--'tis early yet--the sun
+Scarce up above the mountain; go within,
+And if the night deceived you, try anew
+With morning; morning dreams they say come true.
+
+SEG.
+Oh, rather pray for me a sleep so fast
+As shall obliterate dream and waking too.
+
+(Exit into the tower.)
+
+CLO.
+So sleep; sleep fast: and sleep away those two
+Night-potions, and the waking dream between
+Which dream thou must believe; and, if to see
+Again, poor Segismund! that dream must be.--
+And yet, and yet, in these our ghostly lives,
+Half night, half day, half sleeping, half awake,
+How if our waking life, like that of sleep,
+Be all a dream in that eternal life
+To which we wake not till we sleep in death?
+How if, I say, the senses we now trust
+For date of sensible comparison,--
+Ay, ev'n the Reason's self that dates with them,
+Should be in essence or intensity
+Hereafter so transcended, and awake
+To a perceptive subtlety so keen
+As to confess themselves befool'd before,
+In all that now they will avouch for most?
+One man--like this--but only so much longer
+As life is longer than a summer's day,
+Believed himself a king upon his throne,
+And play'd at hazard with his fellows' lives,
+Who cheaply dream'd away their lives to him.
+The sailor dream'd of tossing on the flood:
+The soldier of his laurels grown in blood:
+The lover of the beauty that he knew
+Must yet dissolve to dusty residue:
+The merchant and the miser of his bags
+Of finger'd gold; the beggar of his rags:
+And all this stage of earth on which we seem
+Such busy actors, and the parts we play'd,
+Substantial as the shadow of a shade,
+And Dreaming but a dream within a dream!
+
+FIFE.
+Was it not said, sir,
+By some philosopher as yet unborn,
+That any chimney-sweep who for twelve hours
+Dreams himself king is happy as the king
+Who dreams himself twelve hours a chimney-sweep?
+
+CLO.
+A theme indeed for wiser heads than yours
+To moralize upon--How came you here?--
+
+FIFE.
+Not of my own will, I assure you, sir.
+No matter for myself: but I would know
+About my mistress--I mean, master--
+
+CLO.
+Oh, Now I remember--Well, your master-mistress
+Is well, and deftly on its errand speeds,
+As you shall--if you can but hold your tongue.
+Can you?
+
+FIFE.
+I'd rather be at home again.
+
+CLO.
+Where you shall be the quicker if while here
+You can keep silence.
+
+FIFE.
+I may whistle, then?
+Which by the virtue of my name I do,
+And also as a reasonable test
+Of waking sanity--
+
+CLO.
+Well, whistle then;
+And for another reason you forgot,
+That while you whistle, you can chatter not.
+Only remember--if you quit this pass--
+
+FIFE.
+(His rhymes are out, or he had call'd it spot)--
+
+CLO.
+A bullet brings you to.
+I must forthwith to court to tell the King
+The issue of this lamentable day,
+That buries all his hope in night.
+(To FIFE.)
+Farewell. Remember.
+
+FIFE.
+But a moment--but a word!
+When shall I see my mis--mas--
+
+CLO.
+Be content:
+All in good time; and then, and not before,
+Never to miss your master any more.
+(Exit.)
+
+FIFE.
+Such talk of dreaming--dreaming--I begin
+To doubt if I be dreaming I am Fife,
+Who with a lad who call'd herself a boy
+Because--I doubt there's some confusion here--
+He wore no petticoat, came on a time
+Riding from Muscovy on half a horse,
+Who must have dreamt she was a horse entire,
+To cant me off upon my hinder face
+Under this tower, wall-eyed and musket-tongued,
+With sentinels a-pacing up and down,
+Crying All's well when all is far from well,
+All the day long, and all the night, until
+I dream--if what is dreaming be not waking--
+Of bells a-tolling and processions rolling
+With candles, crosses, banners, San-benitos,
+Of which I wear the flamy-finingest,
+Through streets and places throng'd with fiery faces
+To some back platform--
+Oh, I shall take a fire into my hand
+With thinking of my own dear Muscovy--
+Only just over that Sierra there,
+By which we tumbled headlong into--No-land.
+Now, if without a bullet after me,
+I could but get a peep of my old home
+Perhaps of my own mule to take me there--
+All's still--perhaps the gentlemen within
+Are dreaming it is night behind their masks--
+God send 'em a good nightmare!--Now then--Hark!
+Voices--and up the rocks--and armed men
+Climbing like cats--Puss in the corner then.
+
+(He hides.)
+
+(Enter Soldiers cautiously up the rocks.)
+
+CAPTAIN.
+This is the frontier pass, at any rate,
+Where Poland ends and Muscovy begins.
+
+SOLDIER.
+We must be close upon the tower, I know,
+That half way up the mountain lies ensconced.
+
+CAPT.
+How know you that?
+
+SOL.
+He told me so--the Page
+Who put us on the scent.
+
+SOL. 2.
+And, as I think,
+Will soon be here to run it down with us.
+
+CAPT.
+Meantime, our horses on these ugly rocks
+Useless, and worse than useless with their clatter--
+Leave them behind, with one or two in charge,
+And softly, softly, softly.
+
+SOLDIERS.
+--There it is!
+--There what?
+--The tower--the fortress--
+--That the tower!--
+--That mouse-trap! We could pitch it down the rocks
+With our own hands.
+--The rocks it hangs among
+Dwarf its proportions and conceal its strength;
+Larger and stronger than you think.
+--No matter;
+No place for Poland's Prince to be shut up in.
+At it at once!
+
+CAPT.
+No--no--I tell you wait--
+Till those within give signal. For as yet
+We know not who side with us, and the fort
+Is strong in man and musket.
+
+SOL.
+Shame to wait
+For odds with such a cause at stake.
+
+CAPT.
+Because
+Of such a cause at stake we wait for odds--
+For if not won at once, for ever lost:
+For any long resistance on their part
+Would bring Basilio's force to succour them
+Ere we had rescued him we come to rescue.
+So softly, softly, softly, still--
+
+A SOLDIER (discovering Fife).
+Hilloa!
+
+SOLDIERS.
+--Hilloa! Here's some one skulking--
+--Seize and gag him!
+--Stab him at once, say I: the only way
+To make all sure.
+--Hold, every man of you!
+And down upon your knees!--Why, 'tis the Prince!
+--The Prince!--
+--Oh, I should know him anywhere,
+And anyhow disguised.
+--But the Prince is chain'd.
+--And of a loftier presence--
+--'Tis he, I tell you;
+Only bewilder'd as he was before.
+God save your Royal Highness! On our knees
+Beseech you answer us!
+
+FIFE.
+Just as you please.
+Well--'tis this country's custom, I suppose,
+To take a poor man every now and then
+And set him ON the throne; just for the fun
+Of tumbling him again into the dirt.
+And now my turn is come. 'Tis very pretty.
+
+SOL.
+His wits have been distemper'd with their drugs.
+But do you ask him, Captain.
+
+CAPT.
+On my knees,
+And in the name of all who kneel with me,
+I do beseech your Highness answer to
+Your royal title.
+
+FIFE.
+Still, just as you please.
+In my own poor opinion of myself--
+But that may all be dreaming, which it seems
+Is very much the fashion in this country
+No Polish prince at all, but a poor lad
+From Muscovy; where only help me back,
+I promise never to contest the crown
+Of Poland with whatever gentleman
+You fancy to set up.
+
+SOLDIERS.
+--From Muscovy?
+--A spy then--
+--Of Astolfo's--
+--Spy! a spy
+--Hang him at once!
+
+FIFE.
+No, pray don't dream of that!
+
+SOL.
+How dared you then set yourself up for our Prince Segismund?
+
+FIFE.
+/I/ set up!--/I/ like that
+When 'twas yourselves be-siegesmunded me.
+
+CAPT.
+No matter--Look!--The signal from the tower.
+Prince Segismund!
+
+SOL. (from the tower).
+Prince Segismund!
+
+CAPT.
+All's well. Clotaldo safe secured?--
+
+SOL. (from the tower).
+No--by ill luck,
+Instead of coming in, as we had look'd for,
+He sprang on horse at once, and off at gallop.
+
+CAPT.
+To Court, no doubt--a blunder that--And yet
+Perchance a blunder that may work as well
+As better forethought. Having no suspicion
+So will he carry none where his not going
+Were of itself suspicious. But of those
+Within, who side with us?
+
+SOL.
+Oh, one and all
+To the last man, persuaded or compell'd.
+
+CAPT.
+Enough: whatever be to be retrieved
+No moment to be lost. For though Clotaldo
+Have no revolt to tell of in the tower,
+The capital will soon awake to ours,
+And the King's force come blazing after us.
+Where is the Prince?
+
+SOL.
+Within; so fast asleep
+We woke him not ev'n striking off the chain
+We had so cursedly help bind him with,
+Not knowing what we did; but too ashamed
+Not to undo ourselves what we had done.
+
+CAPT.
+No matter, nor by whosesoever hands,
+Provided done. Come; we will bring him forth
+Out of that stony darkness here abroad,
+Where air and sunshine sooner shall disperse
+The sleepy fume which they have drugg'd him with.
+
+(They enter the tower, and thence bring out Segismund asleep on a
+pallet, and set him in the middle of the stage.)
+
+CAPT.
+Still, still so dead asleep, the very noise
+And motion that we make in carrying him
+Stirs not a leaf in all the living tree.
+
+SOLDIERS.
+If living--But if by some inward blow
+For ever and irrevocably fell'd
+By what strikes deeper to the root than sleep?
+--He's dead! He's dead! They've kill'd him--
+--No--he breathes--
+And the heart beats--and now he breathes again
+Deeply, as one about to shake away
+The load of sleep.
+
+CAPT.
+Come, let us all kneel round,
+And with a blast of warlike instruments,
+And acclamation of all loyal hearts,
+Rouse and restore him to his royal right,
+From which no royal wrong shall drive him more.
+
+(They all kneel round his bed: trumpets, drums, etc.)
+
+SOLDIERS.
+--Segismund! Segismund! Prince Segismund!
+--King Segismund! Down with Basilio!
+--Down with Astolfo! Segismund our King! etc.
+--He stares upon us wildly. He cannot speak.
+--I said so--driv'n him mad.
+--Speak to him, Captain.
+
+CAPTAIN.
+Oh Royal Segismund, our Prince and King,
+Look on us--listen to us--answer us,
+Your faithful soldiery and subjects, now
+About you kneeling, but on fire to rise
+And cleave a passage through your enemies,
+Until we seat you on your lawful throne.
+For though your father, King Basilio,
+Now King of Poland, jealous of the stars
+That prophesy his setting with your rise,
+Here holds you ignominiously eclipsed,
+And would Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy,
+Mount to the throne of Poland after him;
+So will not we, your loyal soldiery
+And subjects; neither those of us now first
+Apprised of your existence and your right:
+Nor those that hitherto deluded by
+Allegiance false, their vizors now fling down,
+And craving pardon on their knees with us
+For that unconscious disloyalty,
+Offer with us the service of their blood;
+Not only we and they; but at our heels
+The heart, if not the bulk, of Poland follows
+To join their voices and their arms with ours,
+In vindicating with our lives our own
+Prince Segismund to Poland and her throne.
+
+SOLDIERS.
+--Segismund, Segismund, Prince Segismund!
+--Our own King Segismund, etc.
+(They all rise.)
+
+SEG.
+Again? So soon?--What, not yet done with me?
+The sun is little higher up, I think,
+Than when I last lay down,
+To bury in the depth of your own sea
+You that infest its shallows.
+
+CAPT.
+Sir!
+
+SEG.
+And now,
+Not in a palace, not in the fine clothes
+We all were in; but here, in the old place,
+And in our old accoutrement--
+Only your vizors off, and lips unlock'd
+To mock me with that idle title--
+
+CAPT.
+Nay,
+Indeed no idle title, but your own,
+Then, now, and now for ever. For, behold,
+Ev'n as I speak, the mountain passes fill
+And bristle with the advancing soldiery
+That glitters in your rising glory, sir;
+And, at our signal, echo to our cry,
+'Segismund, King of Poland!' etc.
+
+(Shouts, trumpets, etc.)
+
+SEG.
+Oh, how cheap
+The muster of a countless host of shadows,
+As impotent to do with as to keep!
+All this they said before--to softer music.
+
+CAPT.
+Soft music, sir, to what indeed were shadows,
+That, following the sunshine of a Court,
+Shall back be brought with it--if shadows still,
+Yet to substantial reckoning.
+
+SEG.
+They shall?
+The white-hair'd and white-wanded chamberlain,
+So busy with his wand too--the old King
+That I was somewhat hard on--he had been
+Hard upon me--and the fine feather'd Prince
+Who crow'd so loud--my cousin,--and another,
+Another cousin, we will not bear hard on--
+And--But Clotaldo?
+
+CAPT.
+Fled, my lord, but close
+Pursued; and then--
+
+SEG.
+Then, as he fled before,
+And after he had sworn it on his knees,
+Came back to take me--where I am!--No more,
+No more of this! Away with you! Begone!
+Whether but visions of ambitious night
+That morning ought to scatter, or grown out
+Of night's proportions you invade the day
+To scare me from my little wits yet left,
+Begone! I know I must be near awake,
+Knowing I dream; or, if not at my voice,
+Then vanish at the clapping of my hands,
+Or take this foolish fellow for your sport:
+Dressing me up in visionary glories,
+Which the first air of waking consciousness
+Scatters as fast as from the almander--
+That, waking one fine morning in full flower,
+One rougher insurrection of the breeze
+Of all her sudden honour disadorns
+To the last blossom, and she stands again
+The winter-naked scare-crow that she was!
+
+CAPT.
+I know not what to do, nor what to say,
+With all this dreaming; I begin to doubt
+They have driv'n him mad indeed, and he and we
+Are lost together.
+
+A SOLDIER (to Captain).
+Stay, stay; I remember--
+Hark in your ear a moment.
+(Whispers.)
+
+CAPT.
+So--so--so?--
+Oh, now indeed I do not wonder, sir,
+Your senses dazzle under practices
+Which treason, shrinking from its own device,
+Would now persuade you only was a dream;
+But waking was as absolute as this
+You wake in now, as some who saw you then,
+Prince as you were and are, can testify:
+Not only saw, but under false allegiance
+Laid hands upon--
+
+SOLDIER 1.
+I, to my shame!
+
+SOLDIER 2.
+And I!
+
+CAPT.
+Who, to wipe out that shame, have been the first
+To stir and lead us--Hark!
+(Shouts, trumpets, etc.)
+
+A SOLDIER.
+Our forces, sir,
+Challenging King Basilio's, now in sight,
+And bearing down upon us.
+
+CAPT.
+Sir, you hear;
+A little hesitation and delay,
+And all is lost--your own right, and the lives
+Of those who now maintain it at that cost;
+With you all saved and won; without, all lost.
+That former recognition of your right
+Grant but a dream, if you will have it so;
+Great things forecast themselves by shadows great:
+Or will you have it, this like that dream too,
+People, and place, and time itself, all dream
+Yet, being in't, and as the shadows come
+Quicker and thicker than you can escape,
+Adopt your visionary soldiery,
+Who, having struck a solid chain away,
+Now put an airy sword into your hand,
+And harnessing you piece-meal till you stand
+Amidst us all complete in glittering,
+If unsubstantial, steel--
+
+ROSAURA (without).
+The Prince! The Prince!
+
+CAPT.
+Who calls for him?
+
+SOL.
+The Page who spurr'd us hither,
+And now, dismounted from a foaming horse--
+
+(Enter Rosaura)
+
+ROSAURA.
+Where is--but where I need no further ask
+Where the majestic presence, all in arms,
+Mutely proclaims and vindicates himself.
+
+FIFE.
+My darling Lady-lord--
+
+ROS.
+My own good Fife,
+Keep to my side--and silence!--Oh, my Lord,
+For the third time behold me here where first
+You saw me, by a happy misadventure
+Losing my own way here to find it out
+For you to follow with these loyal men,
+Adding the moment of my little cause
+To yours; which, so much mightier as it is,
+By a strange chance runs hand in hand with mine;
+The self-same foe who now pretends your right,
+Withholding mine--that, of itself alone,
+I know the royal blood that runs in you
+Would vindicate, regardless of your own:
+The right of injured innocence; and, more,
+Spite of this epicene attire, a woman's;
+And of a noble stock I will not name
+Till I, who brought it, have retrieved the shame.
+Whom Duke Astolfo, Prince of Muscovy,
+With all the solemn vows of wedlock won,
+And would have wedded, as I do believe,
+Had not the cry of Poland for a Prince
+Call'd him from Muscovy to join the prize
+Of Poland with the fair Estrella's eyes.
+I, following him hither, as you saw,
+Was cast upon these rocks; arrested by
+Clotaldo: who, for an old debt of love
+He owes my family, with all his might
+Served, and had served me further, till my cause
+Clash'd with his duty to his sovereign,
+Which, as became a loyal subject, sir,
+(And never sovereign had a loyaller,)
+Was still his first. He carried me to Court,
+Where, for the second time, I crossed your path;
+Where, as I watch'd my opportunity,
+Suddenly broke this public passion out;
+Which, drowning private into public wrong,
+Yet swiftlier sweeps it to revenge along.
+
+SEG.
+Oh God, if this be dreaming, charge it not
+To burst the channel of enclosing sleep
+And drown the waking reason! Not to dream
+Only what dreamt shall once or twice again
+Return to buzz about the sleeping brain
+Till shaken off for ever--
+But reassailing one so quick, so thick--
+The very figure and the circumstance
+Of sense-confess'd reality foregone
+In so-call'd dream so palpably repeated,
+The copy so like the original,
+We know not which is which; and dream so-call'd
+Itself inweaving so inextricably
+Into the tissue of acknowledged truth;
+The very figures that empeople it
+Returning to assert themselves no phantoms
+In something so much like meridian day,
+And in the very place that not my worst
+And veriest disenchanter shall deny
+For the too well-remember'd theatre
+Of my long tragedy--Strike up the drums!
+If this be Truth, and all of us awake,
+Indeed a famous quarrel is at stake:
+If but a Vision I will see it out,
+And, drive the Dream, I can but join the rout.
+
+CAPT.
+And in good time, sir, for a palpable
+Touchstone of truth and rightful vengeance too,
+Here is Clotaldo taken.
+
+SOLDIERS.
+In with him!
+In with the traitor!
+
+(Clotaldo brought in.)
+
+SEG.
+Ay, Clotaldo, indeed--
+Himself--in his old habit--his old self--
+What! back again, Clotaldo, for a while
+To swear me this for truth, and afterwards
+All for a dreaming lie?
+
+CLO.
+Awake or dreaming,
+Down with that sword, and down these traitors theirs,
+Drawn in rebellion 'gainst their Sovereign.
+
+SEG. (about to strike).
+Traitor! Traitor yourself!--
+But soft--soft--soft!--
+You told me, not so very long ago,
+Awake or dreaming--I forget--my brain
+Is not so clear about it--but I know
+One test you gave me to discern between,
+Which mad and dreaming people cannot master;
+Or if the dreamer could, so best secure
+A comfortable waking--Was't not so?
+(To Rosaura).
+Needs not your intercession now, you see,
+As in the dream before--
+Clotaldo, rough old nurse and tutor too
+That only traitor wert, to me if true--
+Give him his sword; set him on a fresh horse;
+Conduct him safely through my rebel force;
+And so God speed him to his sovereign's side!
+Give me your hand; and whether all awake
+Or all a-dreaming, ride, Clotaldo, ride--
+Dream-swift--for fear we dreams should overtake.
+
+(A Battle may be supposed to take place; after which)
+
+
+
+ACT III.
+
+
+
+Scene I.--A wooded pass near the field of battle: drums, trumpets,
+firing, etc. Cries of 'God save Basilio! Segismund,' etc.
+
+
+(Enter Fife, running.)
+
+FIFE.
+God save them both, and save them all! say I!--
+Oh--what hot work!--Whichever way one turns
+The whistling bullet at one's ears--I've drifted
+Far from my mad young--master--whom I saw
+Tossing upon the very crest of battle,
+Beside the Prince--God save her first of all!
+With all my heart I say and pray--and so
+Commend her to His keeping--bang!--bang!--bang!
+And for myself--scarce worth His thinking of--
+I'll see what I can do to save myself
+Behind this rock, until the storm blows over.
+
+(Skirmishes, shouts, firing, etc. After some time enter King Basilio,
+Astolfo, and Clotaldo)
+
+KING.
+The day is lost!
+
+AST.
+Do not despair--the rebels--
+
+KING.
+Alas! the vanquish'd only are the rebels.
+
+CLOTALDO.
+Ev'n if this battle lost us, 'tis but one
+Gain'd on their side, if you not lost in it;
+Another moment and too late: at once
+Take horse, and to the capital, my liege,
+Where in some safe and holy sanctuary
+Save Poland in your person.
+
+AST.
+Be persuaded:
+You know your son: have tasted of his temper;
+At his first onset threatening unprovoked
+The crime predicted for his last and worst.
+How whetted now with such a taste of blood,
+And thus far conquest!
+
+KING.
+Ay, and how he fought!
+Oh how he fought, Astolfo; ranks of men
+Falling as swathes of grass before the mower;
+I could but pause to gaze at him, although,
+Like the pale horseman of the Apocalypse,
+Each moment brought him nearer--Yet I say,
+I could but pause and gaze on him, and pray
+Poland had such a warrior for her king.
+
+AST.
+The cry of triumph on the other side
+Gains ground upon us here--there's but a moment
+For you, my liege, to do, for me to speak,
+Who back must to the field, and what man may
+Do, to retrieve the fortune of the day.
+(Firing.)
+
+FIFE (falling forward, shot).
+Oh, Lord, have mercy on me.
+
+KING.
+What a shriek--
+Oh, some poor creature wounded in a cause
+Perhaps not worth the loss of one poor life!--
+So young too--and no soldier--
+
+FIFE.
+A poor lad,
+Who choosing play at hide and seek with death,
+Just hid where death just came to look for him;
+For there's no place, I think, can keep him out,
+Once he's his eye upon you. All grows dark--
+You glitter finely too--Well--we are dreaming
+But when the bullet's off--Heaven save the mark!
+So tell my mister--mastress--
+(Dies.)
+
+KING.
+Oh God! How this poor creature's ignorance
+Confounds our so-call'd wisdom! Even now
+When death has stopt his lips, the wound through which
+His soul went out, still with its bloody tongue
+Preaching how vain our struggle against fate!
+
+(Voices within).
+After them! After them! This way! This way!
+The day is ours--Down with Basilio, etc.
+
+AST.
+Fly, sir--
+
+KING.
+And slave-like flying not out-ride
+The fate which better like a King abide!
+
+(Enter Segismund, Rosaura, Soldiers, etc.)
+
+SEG.
+Where is the King?
+
+KING (prostrating himself).
+Behold him,--by this late
+Anticipation of resistless fate,
+Thus underneath your feet his golden crown,
+And the white head that wears it, laying down,
+His fond resistance hope to expiate.
+
+SEG.
+Princes and warriors of Poland--you
+That stare on this unnatural sight aghast,
+Listen to one who, Heaven-inspired to do
+What in its secret wisdom Heaven forecast,
+By that same Heaven instructed prophet-wise
+To justify the present in the past.
+What in the sapphire volume of the skies
+Is writ by God's own finger misleads none,
+But him whose vain and misinstructed eyes,
+They mock with misinterpretation,
+Or who, mistaking what he rightly read,
+Ill commentary makes, or misapplies
+Thinking to shirk or thwart it. Which has done
+The wisdom of this venerable head;
+Who, well provided with the secret key
+To that gold alphabet, himself made me,
+Himself, I say, the savage he fore-read
+Fate somehow should be charged with; nipp'd the growth
+Of better nature in constraint and sloth,
+That only bring to bear the seed of wrong
+And turn'd the stream to fury whose out-burst
+Had kept his lawful channel uncoerced,
+And fertilized the land he flow'd along.
+Then like to some unskilful duellist,
+Who having over-reached himself pushing too hard
+His foe, or but a moment off his guard--
+What odds, when Fate is one's antagonist!--
+Nay, more, this royal father, self-dismay'd
+At having Fate against himself array'd,
+Upon himself the very sword he knew
+Should wound him, down upon his bosom drew,
+That might well handled, well have wrought; or, kept
+Undrawn, have harmless in the scabbard slept.
+But Fate shall not by human force be broke,
+Nor foil'd by human feint; the Secret learn'd
+Against the scholar by that master turn'd
+Who to himself reserves the master-stroke.
+Witness whereof this venerable Age,
+Thrice crown'd as Sire, and Sovereign, and Sage,
+Down to the very dust dishonour'd by
+The very means he tempted to defy
+The irresistible. And shall not I,
+Till now the mere dumb instrument that wrought
+The battle Fate has with my father fought,
+Now the mere mouth-piece of its victory
+Oh, shall not I, the champions' sword laid down,
+Be yet more shamed to wear the teacher's gown,
+And, blushing at the part I had to play,
+Down where that honour'd head I was to lay
+By this more just submission of my own,
+The treason Fate has forced on me atone?
+
+KING.
+Oh, Segismund, in whom I see indeed,
+Out of the ashes of my self-extinction
+A better self revive; if not beneath
+Your feet, beneath your better wisdom bow'd,
+The Sovereignty of Poland I resign,
+With this its golden symbol; which if thus
+Saved with its silver head inviolate,
+Shall nevermore be subject to decline;
+But when the head that it alights on now
+Falls honour'd by the very foe that must,
+As all things mortal, lay it in the dust,
+Shall star-like shift to his successor's brow.
+
+(Shouts, trumpets, etc. God save King Segismund!)
+
+SEG.
+For what remains--
+As for my own, so for my people's peace,
+Astolfo's and Estrella's plighted hands
+I disunite, and taking hers to mine,
+His to one yet more dearly his resign.
+
+(Shouts, etc. God save Estrella, Queen of Poland!)
+
+SEG (to Clotaldo).
+You
+That with unflinching duty to your King,
+Till countermanded by the mightier Power,
+Have held your Prince a captive in the tower,
+Henceforth as strictly guard him on the throne
+No less my people's keeper than my own.
+You stare upon me all, amazed to hear
+The word of civil justice from such lips
+As never yet seem'd tuned to such discourse.
+But listen--In that same enchanted tower,
+Not long ago I learn'd it from a dream
+Expounded by this ancient prophet here;
+And which he told me, should it come again,
+How I should bear myself beneath it; not
+As then with angry passion all on fire,
+Arguing and making a distemper'd soul;
+But ev'n with justice, mercy, self-control,
+As if the dream I walk'd in were no dream,
+And conscience one day to account for it.
+A dream it was in which I thought myself,
+And you that hail'd me now then hail'd me King,
+In a brave palace that was all my own,
+Within, and all without it, mine; until,
+Drunk with excess of majesty and pride,
+Methought I tower'd so high and swell'd so wide,
+That of myself I burst the glittering bubble,
+That my ambition had about me blown,
+And all again was darkness. Such a dream
+As this in which I may be walking now;
+Dispensing solemn justice to you shadows,
+Who make believe to listen; but anon,
+With all your glittering arms and equipage,
+King, princes, captains, warriors, plume and steel,
+Ay, ev'n with all your airy theatre,
+May flit into the air you seem to rend
+With acclamation, leaving me to wake
+In the dark tower; or dreaming that I wake
+From this that waking is; or this and that
+Both waking or both dreaming; such a doubt
+Confounds and clouds our mortal life about.
+And, whether wake or dreaming, this I know,
+How dream-wise human glories come and go;
+Whose momentary tenure not to break,
+Walking as one who knows he soon may wake,
+So fairly carry the full cup, so well
+Disorder'd insolence and passion quell,
+That there be nothing after to upbraid
+Dreamer or doer in the part he play'd,
+Whether To-morrow's dawn shall break the spell,
+Or the Last Trumpet of the eternal Day,
+When Dreaming with the Night shall pass away.
+(Exeunt.)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg Life Is A Dream, by Pedro Calderon de la Barca
+
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