For royal birth and knightly worth Are knit to one to-day. Fool [Drowning his voice.] So we'll flatter them up, and we'll cocker them up, Till we turn young brains; And pamper the brach till we make her a wolf, Monks [Chanting without.] A fastu et superbiâ Domine libera nos. Min. 'Neath sandal red and samité, Are knights and ladies set; The henchmen tall stride through the hall, Fool. Oh! merrily growls the starving hind, At my full skin; And merrily howl wolf, wind, and owl, While I lie warm within. Monks. A luxu et avaritiâ Domine libera nos. Min. Hark! from the bridal bower, Rings out the bridesmaid's song; ""Tis the mystic hour of an untried power, The bride she tarries long." Fool. She's schooling herself and she's steeling herself, When she 'll pine and sigh from her lattice high, Monks. A carnis illectamentis Domine libera nos. Min. Blest maid! fresh roses o'er thee While days and nights shall new delights Fool. Satins and silks, and feathers and lace, In jewels and gold folks cannot grow old, Monks. A vanitatibus sæculi Domine libera nos. [SOPHIA descends from the Dais, leading ELIZABETH. Ladies follow.] Soph. [to the Fool.] Silence, you screech-owl. Come strew flowers, fair ladies, And lead unto her bower our fairest bride, The cynosure of love and beauty here, Who shrines heaven's graces in earth's richest casket. Eliz. I come: [aside] Here, Guta, take those monks a fee Tell them I thank them-bid them pray for me. I am half mazed with trembling joy within, duties and my dangers Would whelm my heart with terror. Ah! poor self! Thou took'st this for the term and bourne of troubles And now 'tis here, thou findest it the gate Of new sin-cursed infinities of labour, Where thou must do, or die! [Aloud.] Lead on. I'll follow. [Exeunt. Fool. There, now. No fee for the fool; and yet my prescription was as good as those old Jeremies'. But in law, physic, and divinity, folks had sooner be poisoned in Latin, than saved in the mother-tongue. ACT II. SCENE I. A.D. 1221-7. ELIZABETH'S Bower. Night. LEWIS sleeping in an Alcove. ELIZABETH lying on the Floor in the Foreground. Eliz. No streak yet in the blank and eyeless eastMore weary hours to ache, and smart, and shiver On these bare boards, within a step of bliss. Why peevish? 'Tis mine own will keeps me hereAnd yet I hate myself for that same will: Fightings within and out! How easy 'twere, now, Just to be like the rest, and let life runTo use up to the rind what joys God sends us, Not thus forestall His rod: What! and so lose The strength which comes by suffering? Well, if grief Be gain, mine's double-fleeing thus the snare Of yon luxurious and unnerving down, And widowed from mine Eden. And why widowed? Because they tell me, love is of the flesh, And that's our house-bred foe, the adder in our bosoms, Which warmed to life, will sting us. know I do confess mine ignorance, Oh Lord! They must Mine earnest will these painful limbs may prove. * * * And yet I swore to love him.-So I do * No more than I have sworn. Am I to blame * If God makes wedlock that, which if it be not, And yet our love is Jesus' due,—and all things Are snares and idols-"To love, to cherish, and to obey!" Oh! deadly riddle! Rent and twofold life! Oh! cruel troth! To keep thee or to break thee Alike seems sin! Oh! thou beloved tempter, [Turning toward the bed. Who first didst teach me love, why on thyself From God divert thy lesson? Wilt provoke Him? What if mine heavenly Spouse in jealous ire Should smite mine earthly spouse? Have I two hus bands? The words are horror-yet they are orthodox! [Rises and goes to the window. * How many many brows of happy lovers * * The fragrant lips of night even now are kissing! |