Scene III.—Gardens illuminated.
Xaintrailles. Lords.
First Lord. What vain extravagance! None may deny
That she hath served the state; but truest service,
Suppose hers such, may yet be overpaid.
Second Lord. Others have nobly planned, and nobly fought;
But all their glory is eclipsed in hers.
I sicken of the name!
Xaint. For shame! true glory
Never can be eclipsed. Is not yon planet
Distinct in its own splendour, though the moon
Sheds more and brighter beams? Well hath she earned
The honour she receives: a soul like hers
Has nature's patent, fairer than a monarch's.
First Lord. Soon will she feel she hath uneasy place
Among the nobles of the land, and find
Wide difference between a court and camp.
Xaint. Away with such surmise! Let us not mar
The gay festivities by churlish murmurs.
Many our toils to come, and if we slight
The present, pleasure in despite may shun us.
Enter Valancour and Bertha.
Ber. Urge me no more.
Val. Nay, hear what I would say.
Such is the madness of my passion for her,
She must, and shall be mine! and thou must aid me!
This night decides my fate!