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A heart, Christina, all possessed of pride-
That hath no place for any passion else.

Chris. Will she ever love?

Her heart is scarce the soil to root love's flower!

Cath. No telling how love thrives! to what it comes! Whence grows! 'Tis e'en of as mysterious root, As the pine that makes its lodging of the rock; Yet there it lives, a huge tree, flourishing, Where you'd think a blade of grass would die! What is love's poison, if it be not hate? Yet in that poison oft is found love's food. Frowns that are clouds to us, are sun to him! He finds a music in a scornful tongue, That melts him more than softest melody.But come, we must attire us for the fieldThe field-the field-Christina, wer't to take The field in love?—a fair and honest fight! I wonder, be there one true man on the earth? But if there be, I one true woman know To match him-were he true as native gold.

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[They go out, R.

SCENE II.-An Apartment in the Duke's Castle.

The COUNTESs discovered, L. C— -HUON reading to her, R. Coun. Give o'er! I hate the poet's argument! 'Tis falsehood-'tis offence. A noble maid Stoop to a peasant!-Ancestry, sire, dam, Kindred and all, of perfect blood, despised For love!

Huon. The peasant, though of humble stock, High nature did ennoble

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You'll grant, is not alone nobility,

Will you not? Never yet was line so long,

But it beginning had : and that was found
In rarity of nature, giving one
Advantage over many; aptitude
For arms, for counsel, so superlative
As baffled all competitors, and made
The many glad to follow him as guide
Or safeguard: "and with title to endow him,
"For his high honour, or to gain some end

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Supposed propitious to the general weal,

"On those who should descend from him entailed."
Not in descent alone, then, lies degree,
Which from descent to nature may be traced,
Its proper fount? And that, which nature did,
You'll grant she may be like to do again;
And in a very peasant, yea, a slave,

Enlodge the worth that roots the noble tree.

[The Countess eyes him.

I trust I seem not bold, to argue so.

Coun. Sir, when to me it matters what you seem, Make question on't. If you have more to say, Proceed-yet mark you how the poet mocks Himself your advocacy; in the sequel

His hero is a hind in masquerade !

He proves to be a lord.

Huon. The poet sinned

Against himself, in that! He should have known

A better trick, who had at hand his own

Excelling nature to admonish him,

Than the low cunning of the common craft.

A hind, his hero, won the lady's love :

He had worth enough for that! Her heart was his.
Wedlock joins nothing, if it joins not hearts.
Marriage was never meant for coats of arms.

Heraldry flourishes on metal, silk,

Or wood. Examine as you will the blood, ́é
No painting on't is there?-as red, as warm,
The peasant's as the noble's!

Coun. Dost thou know

Thou speak'st to me?

Huon. 'Tis therefore so I speak.

Coun. And know'st thy duty to me?
Iluon. Yes.

Coun. And see'st

My station, and thine own?

Huon. I see my own.
Coun. Not mine?

Huon. I cannot, for the fair
O'ertopping height before.
Coun. What height?
Huon. Thyself,

That towerest 'bove thy station !-Pardon me !
Oh, wouldst thou set thy rank before thyself?
Wouldst thou be honoured for thyself, or that?
Rank that excels its wearer, doth degrade;
Riches impoverish, that divide respect.
Oh, to be cherished for oneself alone!
To owe the love that cleaves to us to naught
Which fortune's summer-winter-gives or takes!
To know that while we wear the heart and mind,
Feature and form, high heaven endowed us with,
Let the storm pelt us, or fair weather warm,

We shall be loved! Kings, from their thrones cast down,
Have blessed their fate, that they were valued for
Themselves, and not their stations, when some knee,
That hardly bowed to them in plentitude,

Has kissed the dust before them, stripped of all!

Coun. [Confused.] I nothing see that's relative in this, That bears upon the argument.

Huon. Oh, much,

Durst but my heart explain.

Coun. Hast thou a heart?

I thought thou wast a serf; and, as a serf,

Had'st thought and will none other than thy lord's,
And so no heart-that is, no heart of thine own.
But since thou say'st thou hast a heart, 'tis well,—
Keep it a secret; let me not suspect

What, were it e'en suspicion, were thy death.
Sir, did I name a banquet to thee now,

Thou lookedst so?



Huon. To die for thee were such.

Coun. Sir?

Huon. For his master oft a serf has died,

And thought it sweet; and may not, then, a serf'
Say, for his mistress 'twere a feast to die?

Coun. Thou art presumptuous-very-so, no wonder Thou'dst do well

If I misunderstood thee.

To be thyself, and nothing more.

Huon. Myself!

Coun. Why, art thou not a serf? What right hast thou To set thy person off with such a bearing?

And move with such a gait? to give thy brow

The set of noble s, and thy tongue his phrase?
Thy betters' clothes sit fairer upon thee

Than on themselves, "and they were made for them."
I have no patience with thee-can't abide thee!
There are no bounds to thy ambition, none!
How durst thou e'er adventure to bestride
The war-horse-sitting him, that people say
Thou, not the knight, appear'st his proper load?
How durst thou touch the lance, the battle-axe,
And wheel the flaming falchion round thy head,
As thou would'st blaze the sun of chivalry?
I know! my father found thy aptitude,

And humoured it, to boast thee off! He may chance
To rue it; and no wonder if he should,

If others' eyes see that they should not see,
Shown to them by his own.

Huon. Oh, lady

Coun. What?

Huon. Heard I aright?

Coun. Aright-what heard'st thou, then?
I would not think thee so presumptuous
As through thy pride to misinterpret me.
It were not for thy health,-yea, for thy life!
Beware, sir. It would not set my quiet blood,
On haste for mischief to thee, rushing through
My veins, did 1 believe !-Thou art not mad;
Knowing thy vanity, I aggravate it.

Thou know'st 'twere shame, the lowest free-woman
That follows in my train should think of thee !

Huon. I know it, lady.

Coun. That I meant to say,

[Crosses to B.

No more. Don't read such books to me again.
I would you had not learned to read so well,
I had been spared your annotations.

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For the future, no reply, when I remark.

Hear, but don't speak-unless you're told-and then
No more than you are told; what makes the answer up,
No syllable beyond.
[Huon retires up, c.

Enter FALCONER, with hawk, R.

My Falconer! So.

An hour I'll fly my hawk.
Falconer. A noble bird,
My lady, knows his bells, is proud of them.

[Crosses, L

[Retires a little, L.

Coun. They are no portion of his excellence :
It is his own! 'Tis not by them he makes
His ample wheel; mounts up, and up, and up,
In spiry rings, piercing the firmament,

Till he o'ertops his prey; then gives his stoop,
More fleet and sure than ever arrow sped!
How nature fashioned him for his bold trade!
Gave him his stars of eyes to range abroad,
His wings of glorious spread to mow the air,
And breast of might to use them! I delight
To fly my hawk. The hawk's a glorious bird;

[Huon advances, B.

Obedient-yet a daring, dauntless bird!
You may be useful, sir; wait upon me.


[Exeunt, L.


SCENE I.-The Country.

On one side a Ruin, on the other

a clump of lofty trees.


Fred. Now thou hast seen her, tell me what thou thinks't

Has she a heart?

Ulrick. I think her flesh and blood.

Fred. Ay, most sweet flesh, and blood most rich!
Ulrick. Then sure

She has a heart.

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