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Enter, L., CATHERINE, SIR CONRAD, SIR Otro, 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 my

hawk, Or lurks he hereabouts ?

Sir Rup. (L.] I saw him not At all.

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

my

hawk Deserves to kiss my hand, and he shall do it.

[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 thisThat 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 confessiorral:
From such prostration, never can I rise
The thing I was before. Farewell ! Crosses to R.

Cath. [Looks out.] Farewell !
What! go not to fetch my hawk, and there
He sits

upon

his

quarry, new alit ?
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 bad done, So I would lose his service—thou my

thanks. Sir Rup. I will secure him straight. (Erit, R.

Cath. I gave him pain,
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 co

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 0.] Avoid the trees: their
With boastful towering, dare the threatening bolt
To strike them. [Sir O. and Sur Con. approach the ruins.

tops,

Ulrick. Do you note ?-She does not move !
What keeps her there? Is that the scornéd serf
Leans drooping 'gainst the trunk of the tall tree,
Lends him pernicious shelter ?—Clear as day!

Fred. 'Tis dark as night!

Ulrick. What ?-oh, the storm!—My lord,
I meant not that. Your doubts are clearing up-
Look at the serf and lady.

Cath. [To Sir Rup.] Pray you, speak
To the Countess—tell her she's in danger, there,
To stand so near the trees.

Sir Rup. Madam

Cath. Apace
The storm comes on! 'Twill soon be over-head.
Ay! there's the thunder now, and loud enough.-
She heard not :-call to her again :-she bears
That

you accost her. Sir Rup. She is fond of you. Cath. Yes: but you marked her scorn of Huon, now ?

Sir Rup. Madam! madam! pray you,
Come from beneath the trees. "It lightens fast !
A bolt

may

strike
Ulrick. The peril of the serf transfixes her!
Her life, be sure, is only part of his !
A common act of charity it were
Command him thence. It is not right
To leave her there! Go to her-take her thence !

Fred. Your pardon, lady; but you must not brave
The lightning. Come into the open space :
There's shelter, with less chance of penalty,
Beneath this time-worn ruin. [Thunder and lightning.
Heavens, how near !
Almost together came the clap and flash!
The trees are all on fire! the serf is struck!

(Huon staggers from the tree-The Countess rushes to

him, catching him in her arms. Coun. No! no! O Heaven, he's dead! Why would

he stand Beneath the trees !- What, Huon! speak to me! Show me thou hear'st me!-let me see some signs

you, madam!

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