I.
ROME.--A Hall in a Palace. ALESSANDRA and CASTIGLIONE
_Alessandra_. Thou art sad, Castiglione.
_Castiglione_. Sad!--not I.
Oh, I"m the happiest, happiest man in Rome!
A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra, Will make thee mine. Oh, I am very happy!
_Aless_. Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing Thy happiness--what ails thee, cousin of mine?
Why didst thou sigh so deeply?
_Cas_. Did I sigh?
I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion, A silly--a most silly fashion I have When I am _very_ happy. Did I sigh? (_sighing._)
_Aless_. Thou didst. Thou art not well. Thou hast indulged Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it.
Late hours and wine, Castiglione,--these Will ruin thee! thou art already altered-- Thy looks are haggard--nothing so wears away The const.i.tution as late hours and wine.
_Cas. (musing_ ). Nothing, fair cousin, nothing-- Not even deep sorrow-- Wears it away like evil hours and wine.
I will amend.
_Aless_. Do it! I would have thee drop Thy riotous company, too--fellows low born Ill suit the like of old Di Broglio"s heir And Alessandra"s husband.
_Cas_. I will drop them.
_Aless_. Thou wilt--thou must. Attend thou also more To thy dress and equipage--they are over plain For thy lofty rank and fashion--much depends Upon appearances.
_Cas_. I"ll see to it.
_Aless_. Then see to it!--pay more attention, sir, To a becoming carriage--much thou wantest In dignity.
_Cas_. Much, much, oh, much I want In proper dignity.
_Aless.
(haughtily_). Thou mockest me, sir!
_Cos.
(abstractedly_). Sweet, gentle Lalage!
_Aless_. Heard I aright?
I speak to him--he speaks of Lalage?
Sir Count!
(_places her hand on his shoulder_) what art thou dreaming?
He"s not well!
What ails thee, sir?
_Cas.(starting_). Cousin! fair cousin!--madam!
I crave thy pardon--indeed I am not well-- Your hand from off my shoulder, if you please.
This air is most oppressive!--Madam--the Duke!
_Enter Di Broglio_.
_Di Broglio_. My son, I"ve news for thee!--hey!
--what"s the matter?
(_observing Alessandra_).
I" the pouts? Kiss her, Castiglione! kiss her, You dog! and make it up, I say, this minute!
I"ve news for you both. Politian is expected Hourly in Rome--Politian, Earl of Leicester!
We"ll have him at the wedding. "Tis his first visit To the imperial city.
_Aless_. What! Politian Of Britain, Earl of Leicester?
_Di Brog_. The same, my love.
We"ll have him at the wedding. A man quite young In years, but gray in fame. I have not seen him, But Rumor speaks of him as of a prodigy Pre-eminent in arts, and arms, and wealth, And high descent. We"ll have him at the wedding.
_Aless_. I have heard much of this Politian.
Gay, volatile and giddy--is he not, And little given to thinking?
_Di Brog_. Far from it, love.
No branch, they say, of all philosophy So deep abstruse he has not mastered it.
Learned as few are learned.
_Aless_. "Tis very strange!
I have known men have seen Politian And sought his company. They speak of him As of one who entered madly into life, Drinking the cup of pleasure to the dregs.
_Cas_. Ridiculous! Now _I_ have seen Politian And know him well--nor learned nor mirthful he.
He is a dreamer, and shut out From common pa.s.sions.
_Di Brog_. Children, we disagree.
Let us go forth and taste the fragrant air Of the garden. Did I dream, or did I hear Politian was a _melancholy_ man?
(_Exeunt._)
II.
ROME.--A Lady"s Apartment, with a window open and looking into a garden.
LALAGE, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which lie some books and a hand-mirror. In the background JACINTA (a servant maid) leans carelessly upon a chair.
_Lalage_. Jacinta! is it thou?
_Jacinta (pertly_). Yes, ma"am, I"m here.
_Lal_. I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting.
Sit down!--let not my presence trouble you-- Sit down!--for I am humble, most humble.