ROME. A Hall in a Palace. Alessandra and Cas tiglione. Alessandra. Thou art sad, Castiglione. Castiglione. Sad!—not I. Oh, I'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome! Thy happiness. What ails thee, cousin of mine? 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. Wears it away like evil hours and wine. Aless. Do it! I would have thee drop Thy riotous company, too. Fellows low born Ill suit the like with 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! 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 haud 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 Alessan dra.) 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, Aless. I have heard much of this Politian, Di Brog. Far from it, love. No branch, they say, of all philosophy So deep, abstruse, he has not mastered it. 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 a man shut out From common passions. Di Brog. Children, we disagree. Let us go forth and taste the fragrant air 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: Jac. (aside). 'Tis time. (Jacinta seats herself in a sidelong manner upon the chair, resting her elbows upon the back, and regarding her mistress with a contemptuous look. Lalage continues to read.) Lal. It in another climate, so he said, Bore a bright golden flower, but not i' this soil!" over some leaves and 66 (Pauses,-turns resumes.) No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower; But Ocean, ever to refresh mankind, Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind." maiden died! Oh, still more happy maiden, who couldst die! Jacinta! Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes.) Again!-a similar tale Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea! Thus speaketh one Ferdinand, in the words of the play: “She died full young!" One Bossola answers him "I think not so: her infelicity Seemed to have years too many." Ah, luckless lady! Jacinta ! (Still no answer.) Here's a far sterner story: But like-oh, very like in its despair— maids |