Life Is A Dream | Page 9

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