And I remain, on whom to wreak your rage,
I, that have lent my life to build up yours,
I, that have wasted here health, wealth, and time
And talents, I—you know it — I will not boast :
Dismiss me, and I prophesy your plan,
Divorced from my experience, will be chaff
For every gust of chance, and men will say
We did not know the real light, but chased
The wisp that flickers where no foot can tread.
PRINCESS (coldly). Your oath is broken:
LADY BLANCHE (dragging up MELISSA). The plan was mine. I built the nest, it seems,
To hatch the cuckoo. Rise! and let us go.
(Enter WOMAN-POST in haste, with despatches.)
PRINCESS (glancing through the letters angrily, and handing the first to one of her MAIDS). This from my father is of moment: read.
MAID (reads). "Fair daughter, when we sent the Prince
We knew not your ungracious laws, which learnt,
We, conscious of what temper you are built,
Came all in haste to hinder wrong, but fell
Into his father's hands, who has this night,
You lying close upon his territory,
Slipped round and in the dark invested you,
And here he keeps me hostage for his son."
PRINCESS (tossing the other letter, and saying scornfully
to the PRINCE). And now, sir, we will hear your
royal sire.
MAID (reads).
of his head.
"You have our son: touch not a hair
Render him up unscathed; give him your hand:
Cleave to your contract; though indeed we hear
You hold the woman is the better man,
A rampant heresy, which might well deserve
That we this night should pluck your palace down;
And we will do it, unless you send us back
Our son, on the instant, whole."
PRINCE (impetuously). O not to pry and peer on your
But led by golden wishes, and a hope,
The child of regal compact, did I break
Your precinct; not a scorner of your sex
But venerator, zealous it should be
All that it might be. Let me say but this,
That many a famous man and woman, town
And landskip, have I heard of, after seen
The dwarfs of prestige; but in you I found
My boyish dream so dazzled down and so
O'er mastered, that, except you slay me here
According to your bitter statute-book,
I cannot cease to follow you, as they say
The seal does music; and howe'er you bar
Your heart with system out from mine, I hold
That it becomes no man to nurse despair,
But in the teeth of clenched antagonisms
To follow up the worthiest till he die :
Yet that I came not all unauthorized,
Behold your father's letter.
(Kneeling, presents letter, which the PRINCESS seizes and dashes unopened at her feet. Hubbub outside, and crowd of girl-students enter.)
FIRST STUDENT. An army in the land!
SECOND STUDENT.
The walls!
THIRD STUDENT. Ha ha! What care we? Let them
(Confused shrieks and laughter from all.)
PRINCESS. What fear ye, brawlers? am not I your Head? On me, me, me, the storm first breaks; I dare All these male thunderbolts: what is it ye fear? Peace! there are those to avenge us, and they come : If not, — myself were like enough, O girls, To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights, And, clad in iron, burst the ranks of war, Or, falling, protomartyr of our cause, Die! yet I blame ye not so much for fear; Six thousand years of fear have made ye that From which I would redeem you: but for those
That stir this hubbub
Your faces there in the crowd to-morrow morn
We hold a great convention; then shall they
Who love their voices more than duty, learn
With whom they deal, dismissed in shame to live
No wiser than their mothers, household stuff,
Live chattels, mincers of each other's fame,
Whose brains are in their hands and in their heels,
But fit to flaunt, to dress, to dance, to thrum,
Forever slaves at home and fools abroad.
(PRINCESS waves her hands, and crowd disperses.)
PRINCESS (to PRINCE). You have done well and like a gentleman,
And like a Prince; you have our thanks for all :
And you look well too in your woman's dress:
Well have you done, and like a gentleman.
You saved our life; we owe you bitter thanks:
Better have died and spilt our bones in the flood
To take such bloody vengeance on you both? —
Yet since our father - Wasps in our good hive,
You would-be quenchers of the light to be,
Barbarians grosser than your native bears —
O would I had his sceptre for one hour!
You that have dared to break our bound and gulled
Our servants, wronged and lied and thwarted us
I wed with thee! I bound by precontract
Your bride, your bond-slave! not though all the gold
That veins the world were packed to make your crown,
And every spoken tongue should lord you. Sir,
Your falsehood and yourself are hateful to us:
I trample on your offers and on you;
Begone: we will not look upon you more.
Here, push them out at gates.
(They are ejected by women-guards.)
Thy voice is heard through rolling drums,
That beat to battle where he stands;
Thy face across his fancy comes,
And gives the battle to his hands:
A moment, while the trumpets blow,
He sees his brood about thy knee;
The next, like fire he meets the foe,
And strikes him dead for thine and thee.
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