It falls on its knees, making most piteous suit
With hail of tears, and hurricane of sighs,
Calling on heaven and earth for witnesses
That it is love, true love, nothing but love!
Fred. You would not say the lady loves the serf?
Ulrick. I would say nothing in particular,
Save upon proof. Let me together note
The serf and lady, I will speak to the point,
Or, baffled, hold my peace.

Fred. To that intent

I sent for thee; for thou art keen of sight
To pry into the inmost thoughts of men,
And find the proper ends towards which they aim,
Howe'er dissembled by assuméd purpose.

Ulrick. Your pardon, sir:-your father bade me come To warn you, in these times of turbulence, He means to stand aloof, and take no part Between the barons and the empress; so Your course you know to shape. What company Is this?

[Looking off,

Fred. The countess flies her hawk to-day,
And these are falconers in advance of her.
Those nearest us, observe: :- -The lady first,
Is a rich serf, supposed love-daughter to
The former duke, who left her well endowed.
Those with her, are her suitors; but with none
She'll mate, believing that her wealth is prized
Beyond herself:-nor does she widely err,
Though some might think her beauty dower enough.
There is one who follows her, indeed, for love,
A man of heart; a gentleman, but poor,

Who his revenue spends upon his back.

I

say, he follows her: he woos her not,

Through pride, 'tis said, lest he be thought to hunt
The dross so much he needs ;-whence I esteem
His chance the best. Mark! he is last of all.
Let us rerire a space: there's company
Enough, without us here. Some minutes yet
Before the countess will alight, and then
Remains the hill to climb. So bright a day,
Methinks, will scarce go by without a frown.

[They retire, R. U. E.

Enter, L., CATHERINE, SIR CONRAD, SIR OTTO, and

SIR RUPERT.

Cath. [R.] Spy you my hawk ?-'twas here he struck his bird,

And vanished from my sight.

Sir O. [R. c.] Or I mistake,

Or from his stoop he rose again, and skimmed
The brow of yonder copse.

Sir Con. [L. c.] I marked not if

He soared a second time.

Cath. Were I a man,

And waited on a lady that did hawk,

I'd keep her bird in sight. Sir Rupert, what

Say you? Where shall we go and seek

Or lurks he hereabouts?

Sir Rup. [L.] I saw him not

At all.

my

hawk,

Cath. Not see my hawk at all? You'll do For a falconer! So! Had I that boy,

My hair-brained cousin, whom you say you know,

And fair Sir Rupert hath such fancy for, [Crosses to R.
He would find

My hawk, ere you began to look for it.—
How loth these friends are to part company !
[Aside.] Now I will scatter them.-Who finds
Deserves to kiss my hand, and he shall do it.

my hawk

[Sir Otto and Sir Conrad quickly run off, L. and R. What! like you not my wages, sir, you stand, Nor make a proffer of your service?

Sir Rup. To kiss your hand would be most rich reward,

If love's sweet gift to him who sought your love;

But if love's gift, to one alone 'twere made,

And not to any one!

Cath. Love's gift!-what's that?

Most thankless proffer made by empty hand!

?

Give me bright diamonds, I shall have bright eyes.
When fetched desert its value, and was poor
A hundred years ago?-but it was left
A legacy, and then they found it out!
The world, they say, is an old churl,-'tis not!
Can you afford to feast, you shall be feasted;

You shall not dine at home one day out of three-
Nay, you may shut up house, for bed and board.
Sir Rup. You are a young ascetic.

Cath. Sir, I am

A young Diogenes in petticoats!

I have strings of axioms :-Here are more for you.
They say that beauty needs not ornament;
But, sooth, she fares the better having it,
Although she keeps it in her drawer.
Sir Rup. Indeed!

Cath. Indeed, and very deed; for I have known
Bracelets and rings do miracles, where nature
Played niggard, and did nothing, or next to it;
Beat lotions in improving of the skin,

And mend a curve the surgeon had given up
As hopeless.

Sir Rup. Nay, you speak in irony.

Cath. I speak in truth, speaking in irony; For irony is but a laughing truth,

Told of a worthless thing.

Will you have more?
You shall, then. Have you never heard it said,

Or never dreamed you such a thing as this-
That fortune's children never yet lacked wit,

Virtue, grace, beauty, though it taxed the owners

To find them out?

What! not a word to say? Let's change the theme, then: The argument shall be, that you're in love:

The which I shall affirm, while you deny.

I say, you are in love. Come, prove me wrong!
Sir Rup. I never argue, only for the sake

Of argument.

Cath. Come, come,

You are in love-I'll prove it by fifty things.
And, first and foremost, you deny it, sir:
I'll stake my credit on one single fact.
Thou bearest out to admiration-

A lover is the dullest thing on earth!
Who but a lover-or his antipodes,

A wise man-ever found out, that the use

Of his tongue was to hold it? Thou must be in love,
And for one sovereign reason, after which

I'd give no other-thou dost follow me!

Sir R. Madam, although I may not use my tongue

I do my eyes and ears.

Cath. But not your feet.

Will you not seek my hawk, and run a chance
To kiss my hand? or would it trouble you,
In case you found my hawk, to use your lips?
But I forget-'tis now your turn to speak,
And prove my oaks of arguments are but reeds.
Have you no word? or am not I worth one?
Or must I take your side, and beat myself?
I'll take your side, then. You are not in love,

Loving yourself too well!

Sir Rup. You wrong me there.

Cath. Why, see what pains you take with your person How you dress!

Sir Rup. 'Tis not my vanity, but pride.

I am too poor to put mean habit on :

Whose garments wither, shall meet faded smiles
Even from the worthy, so example sways.

So the plague poverty is loathed and shunned,
The luckless wight, who wears her fatal spot!
Want, but look full; else you may chance to starve,
Unless you'll stoop to beg.-You force me, lady,
To make you my severe confessional:-

From such prostration, never can I rise
The thing I was before. Farewell!
Cath. [Looks out.] Farewell!

What! go not to fetch my hawk, and there
He sits upon his quarry, new alit?

[Crosses to R.

Or want you earnest of your wages? Well,
There, kiss my hand, and go and fetch my hawk,
And then be paid in full.

Sir Rup. If I could speak

Cath. My hawk were off again ere you had done,
So I would lose his service-thou my thanks.
Sir Rup. I will secure him straight.

Cath. I gave him pain,

[Exit, R.

Though he has borne it with a noble heart!
I hope he will not make me weep in turn-
Symptoms I feel of something like a shower—
A slight one-but it must not fall.-They're gone.
A noble heart! a very noble heart!

Re-enter SIR Rupert, R.

Sir Rup. I have missed the hawk-he has taken wing

again.

Cath. 'Twas not your fault-you did the best you could. I am not angry-there's my hand for you.

Marked you which course he took? Then, come along, We'll hunt for him together.

Sir Rup. Stop-it lowers!

There's shelter here.

[They approach the Ruins.

Enter the COUNTESS and HUON, L. S. E.-Prince Frederick and Ulrick come forward a little, R., but so as not to be noticed.

Coun. [To Sir R.] Will there not be a storm?

Huon. I am sure there will.

Coun. I asked not you to speak! When you should speak,

It shall be shown-it shall be plain. Be sure

It is so, ere you give your counsel, sir. [Huon retires R. to a group of trees, and leans against one of them.

Do you not think there's threatening of a storm? Sir Rup. Yes, lady. When the Heavens look troubled thus,

Earth can't be long at peace.

Fred. The only man

She brooketh speech from with complacency.
Observe her, now, when I accost her.-Madam,
Will 't please you take my escort to your coach,
At the hill foot I see attending on you?

Coun. [Haughtily.] The rain is on, sir: I am better here.
SIR OTTO and SIR CONRAD re-enter in haste.

Sir O. A storm! a storm! Those pitch-black clouds that speed

In wild career to meet the sun, as though

In

envy of this light to blot him out,

Come right against the wind-a token they
Bring thunder!

Sir Con. Yes: I saw a forkéd flash,

And while I held my breath and listened, heard

The distant thunder. To Sir O.] Avoid the trees: their

tops,