Ter. What hinders you to take the man you love?
The people will be glad, the soldiers shout,
And Bertran, though repining, will be awed.
Leo. I fear to try new love,
As boys to venture on the unknown ice,
That crackles underneath them while they slide.
Oh, how shall I describe this growing ill!
Betwixt my doubt and love, methinks I stand
Altering, like one that waits an ague fit;
And yet, would this were all!
Ter. What fear you more?
Leo. I am ashamed to say, 'tis but a fancy.
At break of day, when dreams, they say, are true,
A drowzy slumber, rather than a sleep,
Seized on my senses, with long watching worn:
Methought I stood on a wide river's bank,
Which I must needs o'erpass, but knew not how;
431 When, on a sudden, Torrismond appeared,
Gave me his hand, and led me lightly o'er,
Leaping and bounding on the billows' heads,
'Till safely we had reached the farther shore.
Ter. This dream portends some ill which you shall 'scape.
Would you see fairer visions, take this night
Your Torrismond within your arms to sleep;
And, to that end, invent some apt pretence
To break with Bertran: 'twould be better yet,
Could you provoke him to give you the occasion,
And then, to throw him off.
Enter Bertran at a distance.
Leo. My stars have sent him;
For, see, he comes. How gloomily he looks!
If he, as I suspect, have found my love,
His jealousy will furnish him with fury,
And me with means, to part.
Bert. [Aside.] Shall I upbraid her? Shall I call her false?
If she be false, 'tis what she most desires.
My genius whispers me,—Be cautious, Bertran!
Thou walkest as on a narrow mountain's neck,
A dreadful height, with scanty room to tread.
Leo. What business have you at the court, my lord?
Bert. What business, madam?