Pol. Now this is true: All very true. Thou art my friend, Baldazzar, Thou't do me Wilt thou go back and say A piece of service. Unto this man, that I, the Earl of Leicester, Hold him a villain? Thus much, I prythee, say Unto the Count. It is exceeding just He should have cause for quarrel. Bal. My lord!— My friend!· Pol. (aside). 'Tis he! He comes himself! (Aloud). Thou reasonest well. [sage. I know what thou wouldst say,-not send the mesWell, I will think of it: I will not send it! Now, prithee, leave me. Hither doth come a person With whom affairs of a most private nature I would adjust. Bal. I go. To-morrow we meet, Do we not, at the Vatican? Pol. At the Vatican. (Enter Castiglione.) (Exit Bal.) Castiglione. The Earl of Leicester here? Pol. I am the Earl of Leicester, and thou seest, Dost thou not, that I am here. Cas. My lord, some strange Some singular mistake-misunderstanding Hath without doubt arisen. Thou hast been urged Thereby, in heat of anger, to address Some words most unaccountable, in writing, To me, Castiglione,-the bearer being Of nothing which might warrant thee in this thing, Ha! am I right? 'Twas a mistake, undoubtedly. We all Having given thee no offence. Do err at times. Pol. Draw, villain, and prate no more! Have at thee, then, at once, proud Earl! (Draws.) Pol. (drawing). Thus to the expiatory tomb, Untimely sepulchre, I do devote thee, In the name of Lalage! Cas. (letting fall his sword, and recoiling to the extremity of the stage.) Of Lalage! Hold off-thy sacred hand! Avaunt, I say! Avaunt! I will not fight thee! Indeed, I dare not. Pol. Thou wilt not fight with me, didst say, Sir Count? Shall I be baffled thus? Now, this is well! Didst say thou darest not? Ha! Cas. I dare not!-dare not! Hold off thy hand! With that beloved name Pol. Now, by my halidom, I do believe thee! Coward, I do believe thee! Cas. Ha!-coward! This may not be! (Clutches his sword, and staggers toward Politian, but his purpose is changed before reaching him, and he falls upon his knee at the feet of the Earl.) Alas! alas! my lord, it is—it is—most true! In such a cause I am the veriest coward. Oh, pity me! Pol. (greatly softened). Alas! I do! Indeed, I pity thee! Cas. And Lalage Pol. Scoundrel! Arise, and die! Cas. It needeth not be-thus-thus-oh, let me die Thus on my bended knee. It were most fitting For in the fight I will not raise a hand Against thee, Earl of Leicester. Strike thon home! (Baring his bosom.) Here is no let or hinderance to thy weapon! Pol. Now 'sDeath and Hell! Am I not―am I not sorely-grievously tempted Even unto death. Before those whom thou lovest- thee, [me? Dost hear? with cowardice! Thou wilt not fight Thou liest! Thou shalt! Cas. Now, this indeed is just! (Exit.) Most righteous, and most just, avenging Heaven. POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH.* SONNET.-TO SCIENCE. SCIENCE! True daughter of Old Time thou art! Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart, Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise, Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering To seek for treasure in the jeweled skies, Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing? Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car? And driven the Hamadryad from the wood To seek a shelter in some happier star? Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood, The Elfin from the green grass, and from me The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree? * Private reasons-some of which have reference to the sin of plagiarism, and others to the date of Tennyson's first poems-have induced me, after some hesitation, to republish these, the crude compositions of my earliest boyhood. They are printed verbatim, without alteration from the original edition, the date of which is too remote to be judiciously acknowledged. E. A. P. AL AARAAF.* PART I. Oh, nothing earthly save the ray That list our Love, and deck our bowers— The wandering star. 'Twas a sweet time for Nesace-for there Her world lay lolling on the golden air, * A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe, which appeared suddenly in the heavens; attained, in a few days, a brilliancy surpassing that of Jupiter; then as suddenly disappeared, and has never been seen since. |