A Blot in the Scutcheon | Page 5

that,?The worthiness and grace and dignity?Of your proposal for uniting both?Our Houses even closer than respect?Unites them now--add these, and you must grant?One favour more, nor that the least,--to think?The welcome I should give;--'tis given! My lord,?My only brother, Austin: he's the king's.?Our cousin, Lady Guendolen--betrothed?To Austin: all are yours.
MERTOUN. I thank you--less?For the expressed commendings which your seal,?And only that, authenticates--forbids?My putting from me... to my heart I take?Your praise... but praise less claims my gratitude,?Than the indulgent insight it implies?Of what must needs be uppermost with one?Who comes, like me, with the bare leave to ask,?In weighed and measured unimpassioned words,?A gift, which, if as calmly 'tis denied,?He must withdraw, content upon his cheek,?Despair within his soul. That I dare ask?Firmly, near boldly, near with confidence?That gift, I have to thank you. Yes, Lord Tresham,?I love your sister--as you'd have one love?That lady... oh more, more I love her! Wealth,?Rank, all the world thinks me, they're yours, you know,?To hold or part with, at your choice--but grant?My true self, me without a rood of land,?A piece of gold, a name of yesterday,?Grant me that lady, and you... Death or life?
GUENDOLEN. [apart to AUSTIN]. Why, this is loving,?Austin!
AUSTIN. He's so young!
GUENDOLEN. Young? Old enough, I think, to half surmise?He never had obtained an entrance here,?Were all this fear and trembling needed.
AUSTIN. Hush!?He reddens.
GUENDOLEN. Mark him, Austin; that's true love!?Ours must begin again.
TRESHAM. We'll sit, my lord.?Ever with best desert goes diffidence.?I may speak plainly nor be misconceived?That I am wholly satisfied with you?On this occasion, when a falcon's eye?Were dull compared with mine to search out faults,?Is somewhat. Mildred's hand is hers to give?Or to refuse.
MERTOUN. But you, you grant my suit??I have your word if hers?
TRESHAM. My best of words?If hers encourage you. I trust it will.?Have you seen Lady Mildred, by the way?
MERTOUN. I... I... our two demesnes, remember, touch,?I have beer used to wander carelessly?After my stricken game: the heron roused?Deep in my woods, has trailed its broken wing?Thro' thicks and glades a mile in yours,--or else?Some eyass ill-reclaimed has taken flight?And lured me after her from tree to tree,?I marked not whither. I have come upon?The lady's wondrous beauty unaware,?And--and then... I have seen her.
GUENDOLEN [aside to AUSTIN]. Note that mode?Of faltering out that, when a lady passed,?He, having eyes, did see her! You had said--?"On such a day I scanned her, head to foot;?Observed a red, where red should not have been,?Outside her elbow; but was pleased enough?Upon the whole." Let such irreverent talk?Be lessoned for the future!
TRESHAM. What's to say?May be said briefly. She has never known?A mother's care; I stand for father too.?Her beauty is not strange to you, it seems--?You cannot know the good and tender heart,?Its girl's trust and its woman's constancy,?How pure yet passionate, how calm yet kind,?How grave yet joyous, how reserved yet free?As light where friends are--how imbued with lore?The world most prizes, yet the simplest, yet?The... one might know I talked of Mildred--thus?We brothers talk!
MERTOUN. I thank you.
TRESHAM. In a word,?Control's not for this lady; but her wish?To please me outstrips in its subtlety?My power of being pleased: herself creates?The want she means to satisfy. My heart?Prefers your suit to her as 'twere its own.?Can I say more?
MERTOUN. No more--thanks, thanks--no more!
TRESHAM. This matter then discussed...
MERTOUN. --We'll waste no breath On aught less precious. I'm beneath the roof?Which holds her: while I thought of that, my speech?To you would wander--as it must not do,?Since as you favour me I stand or fall.?I pray you suffer that I take my leave!
TRESHAM. With less regret 'tis suffered, that again?We meet, I hope, so shortly.
MERTOUN. We? again?--?Ah yes, forgive me--when shall... you will crown?Your goodness by forthwith apprising me?When... if... the lady will appoint a day?For me to wait on you--and her.
TRESHAM. So soon?As I am made acquainted with her thoughts?On your proposal--howsoe'er they lean--?A messenger shall bring you the result.
MERTOUN. You cannot bind me more to you, my lord.?Farewell till we renew... I trust, renew?A converse ne'er to disunite again.
TRESHAM. So may it prove!
MERTOUN. You, lady, you, sir, take?My humble salutation!
GUENDOLEN and AUSTIN. Thanks!
TRESHAM. Within there!
[Servants enter. TRESHAM conducts MERTOUN to the door. Meantime AUSTIN remarks,]
Well,?Here I have an advantage of the Earl,?Confess now! I'd not think that all was safe?Because my lady's brother stood my friend!?Why, he makes sure of her--"do you say yes--?She'll not say, no,"--what comes it to beside??I should have prayed the brother, "speak this speech,?For Heaven's sake urge this on her--put in this--?Forget not, as you'd save me, t'other thing,--?Then set down what she says, and how she looks,?And if she smiles, and" (in an under breath)?"Only let her accept me, and do you?And all the world refuse me, if you dare!"
GUENDOLEN. That way you'd take, friend Austin? What a shame I was