duke.
'Tis Fabian, I ween, his master chiding.
'Twas thus:—Two prying and suspicious elves
I mark'd, to punish. Issuing forth command
For their arrest, this silly, wayward boy,
With words and tears, hath temper'd mine intent
To his entreaty. True, I might but gain
Small honour by their seizure, hence I've given
The stripling his desire; yet mark me, Fabian,—
I watch them closely.——
Enter Hermione and Laura.
My soul seems pain'd at her approach. [Aside.
My gentle cousins, hail! None other name
Wherewith I greet you sounds so consonant,
So kin to mine affection. How hath fared
Each friend in Mantua? Laura, yet as fresh
As when my childhood knew thee, and thine hand
Supplied a mother's fondness. Look not grave,
Thou art not half so old as thou art aged
In mine esteem.—Hermione, to you
I publish greeting.
hermione.
Our beloved cousin,—
The form I trow your greeting takes.
duke.
Sweet coz!
No form I use, I greet thee well, and crave
Thy long abode in Mantua. Ladies' eyes
Have most miraculous virtue; they can draw
The moon from his orbit, and the little stars
To watch their tender sighs at the soft wail
Breath'd from a timorous lute. You love the moonlight?
Why do ye start?—'tis not the first fair dame
That in our city listen'd i' the cool
And passionless night, to piped sighs, and vows
Enamour'd, breathed from reed and flageolet!
hermione.
Mean you the serenade? 'Twas meant, my lord,
For other ears than mine.
duke.
How? For the maid's, belike! Sweet, innocent fool,
Love e'er was held a story-telling urchin;
Pr'ythee forswear such idle company.
But whence upon that cheek such tell-tale hues,
Wrought suddenly in their bright texture?—whence
That strange confusion? Love's unquenched flame
Defies control.
hermione.
I do confess,—one night,
To while a feverish hour,—I had walk'd forth,—
I sought the garden-terrace. True, surprise
A moment cross'd me, when your ear I found
Such marvellous tidings heard!
duke.
Well, to the maids
'Tis like we are beholden for this minstrelsy.
Nought living now in that good house would tempt
Our gallants from their beds.
laura.
And why, your grace?
If older ears enjoy such ravishment,
I'm not so old, beshrew me, potent Duke,
But I can wake at true-love's bidding!