Is coming here in utmost bravery

To ask our master's sister's hand?

GERARD.

What then?

SECOND RETAINER. What then? Why, you, she speaks

to, if she meets

Your worship, smiles on as you hold apart

The boughs to let her through her forest walks,

You, always favourite for your no-deserts,

You've heard, these three days, how Earl Mertoun sues

To lay his heart and house and broad lands too
At Lady Mildred's feet: and while we squeeze
Ourselves into a mousehole lest we miss
One congee of the least page in his train,

You sit o' one side-" there's the Earl," say I—
"What then?" say you!

THIRD RETAINER.

I'll wager he has let Both swans he tamed for Lady Mildred swim Over the falls and gain the river!

GERARD.

Is not to-morrow my inspecting-day
For you and for your hawks?

FOURTH RETAINER.

Ralph,

Let Gerard be!

He's coarse-grained, like his carved black cross-bow stock.
Ha, look now, while we squabble with him, look!
Well done, now-is not this beginning, now,

To purpose?

FIRST RETAINER. Our retainers look as fineThat's comfort. Lord, how Richard holds himself With his white staff! Will not a knave behind

Prick him upright?

FOURTH RETAINER. He's only bowing, fool! The Earl's man bent us lower by this much. FIRST RETAINER. That's comfort. Here's

cavalcade!

a very

THIRD RETAINER. I don't see wherefore Richard, and

his troop

Of silk and silver varlets there, should find
Their perfumed selves so indispensable
On high days, holidays! Would it so disgrace
Our family, if I, for instance, stood―

In my right hand a cast of Swedish hawks,
A leash of greyhounds in my left?-

GERARD.

The logman for supporter, in his right

-With Hugh

The bill-hook, in his left the brushwood-shears!

THIRD RETAINER. Out on you, crab! What next, what next? The Earl!

FIRST RETAINER. Oh Walter, groom, our horses, do they match

The Earl's? Alas, that first pair of the six

They paw the ground-Ah Walter! and that brute
Just on his haunches by the wheel!

SIXTH RETAINER.

You, Philip, are a special hand, I hear,

Ay-ay!

At soups and sauces: what's a horse to you?
D'ye mark that beast they've slid into the midst
So cunningly?-then, Philip, mark this further;
No leg has he to stand on!

FIRST RETAINER.

No? that's comfort.

SECOND RETAINER. Peace, Cook! The Earl descends.
Well, Gerard, see

The Earl at least! Come, there's a proper man,
I hope! Why, Ralph, no falcon, Pole or Swede,

Has got a starrier eye.

THIRD RETAINER.

His eyes are blue:

So young, and yet

But leave my hawks alone!

FOURTH RETAINER.

So tall and shapely!

FIFTH RETAINER. Here's Lord Tresham's self! There now-there's what a nobleman should be! He's older, graver, loftier, he's more like

A House's head.

SECOND RETAINER. But you'd not have a boy
-And what's the Earl beside?-possess too soon
That stateliness?

FIRST RETAINER. Our master takes his hand-
Richard and his white staff are on the move-
Back fall our people—(tsh!—there's Timothy
Sure to get tangled in his ribbon-ties,
And Peter's cursed rosette's a-coming off!)

-At last I see our lord's back and his friend's;
And the whole beautiful bright company

Close round them-in they go! [Jumping down from the window-bench, and making for the table and its jugs.] Good health, long life,

Great joy to our Lord Tresham and his House!

SIXTH RETAINER. My father drove his father first to court,

After his marriage-day-ay, did he!

SECOND RETAINER.

God bless

Lord Tresham, Lady Mildred, and the Earl!
Here, Gerard, reach your beaker!

GERARD.

Drink, my boys!

Don't mind me-all's not right about me-drink!

SECOND RETAINER [aside]. He's vexed, now, that he let the show escape!

[To GERARD.] Remember that the Earl returns this way. GERARD. That way?

SECOND RETAINER. Just so.

GERARD.

SECOND RETAINER.

Then my way's here.

[Goes. Old Gerard

Will die soon-mind, I said it! He was used
To care about the pitifullest thing

That touched the House's honour, not an eye
But his could see wherein: and on a cause
Of scarce a quarter this importance, Gerard
Fairly had fretted flesh and bone away

In cares that this was right, nor that was wrong,
Such point decorous, and such square by rule—
He knew such niceties, no herald more:

And now-you see his humour: die he will!

SECOND RETAINER. God help him! Who's for the great servants' hall

To hear what's going on inside! They'd follow

Lord Tresham into the saloon.

THIRD RETAINER.

FOURTH RETAINER.

I!

I!

Leave Frank alone for catching, at the door,

Some hint of how the parley goes inside!

Prosperity to the great House once more!

Here's the last drop!

FIRST RETAINER.

Have at you! Boys, hurrah!

SCENE II.-A Saloon in the Mansion

Enter LORD TRESHAM, LORD MERTOUN, AUSTIN, and GUENDOLEN

TRESHAM. I welcome you, Lord Mertoun, yet once

more,

To this ancestral roof of mine. Your name

-Noble among the noblest in itself,
Yet taking in your person, fame avers,
New price and lustre,―(as that gem you wear,
Transmitted from a hundred knightly breasts,
Fresh chased and set and fixed by its last lord,
Seems to re-kindle at the core)—your name
Would win you welcome!-

MERTOUN.

TRESHAM.

Thanks!

-But add to that,

The worthiness and grace and dignity
Of your proposal for uniting both
Our Houses even closer than respect

Unites them now-add these, and you must grant
One favour more, nor that the least,—to think
The welcome I should give;-'tis given! My lord,
My only brother, Austin: he's the king's.

Our cousin, Lady Guendolen-betrothed

To Austin: all are yours.

MERTOUN.

I thank you-less

For the expressed commendings which your seal,
And only that, authenticates-forbids

My putting from me . . . to my heart I take
Your praise... but praise less claims my gratitude,
Than the indulgent insight it implies

Of what must needs be uppermost with one

Who comes, like me, with the bare leave to ask,

In weighed and measured unimpassioned words,

A gift, which, if as calmly 'tis denied,

He must withdraw, content upon his cheek,
Despair within his soul. That I dare ask
Firmly, near boldly, near with confidence
That gift, I have to thank you.

Yes, Lord Tresham,

I love your sister-as you'd have one love

That lady . . . oh more, more I love her! Wealth,
Rank, all the world thinks me, they're yours, you know,
To hold or part with, at your choice-but grant

My true self, me without a rood of land,

A piece of gold, a name of yesterday,
Grant me that lady, and you

Death or life?

GUENDOLEN. [apart to AUSTIN]. Why, this is loving, Austin !

AUSTIN.

He's so young!

GUENDOLEN. Young?

surmise

Old enough, I think, to half

He never had obtained an entrance here,
Were all this fear and trembling needed.

AUSTIN.

He reddens.

Hush!

GUENDOLEN. Mark him, Austin; that's true love! Ours must begin again.

TRESHAM.

We'll sit, my lord.

Ever with best desert goes diffidence.

I may speak plainly nor be misconceived
That I am wholly satisfied with you
On this occasion, when a falcon's eye

Were dull compared with mine to search out faults,
Is somewhat. Mildred's hand is hers to give

Or to refuse.

MERTOUN.

I have your word if hers?

TRESHAM.

But you, you grant my suit?

My best of words

If hers encourage you. I trust it will.

Have you seen Lady Mildred, by the way?

MERTOUN. I. I our two demesnes, remem

ber, touch,

...

I have been used to wander carelessly

After my stricken game: the heron roused

Deep in my woods, has trailed its broken wing