Act the Third: Scene XIV

A SOLDIER. 'Mid the thickets of the mountain,'Neath these dark boughs so united,The King hides.

SIGISMUND. Pursue him then,Leave no single shrub unrifled,Nothing must escape your search,Not a plant, and not a pine tree.

CLOTALDO. Fly, my lord!

BASILIUS. And wherefore fly?

ASTOLFO. Come!

BASILIUS. Astolfo, I'm decided.

CLOTALDO. What to do?

BASILIUS. To try, Clotaldo,One sole remedy that surviveth.If 'tis me thou'rt seeking, Prince,At thy feet behold me lying.Let thy carpet be these hairsWhich the snows of age have whitened.Tread upon my neck, and trampleOn my crown; in base defilementTreat me with all disrespect;Let thy deadliest vengeance strike meThrough my honour; as thy slaveMake me serve thee, and in spite ofAll precautions let fate be,Let heaven keep the word it plighted.

SIGISMUND. Princes of the Court of Poland,Who such numerous surprisesHave astonished seen, attend,For it is your prince invites ye.That which heaven has once determined,That which God's eternal fingerHas upon the azure tabletsOf the sky sublimely written,Those transparent sheets of sapphireSuperscribed with golden ciphersNe'er deceive, and never lie;The deceiver and the liarIs he who to use them badlyIn a wrongful sense defines them.Thus, my father, who is present,To protect him from the wildnessOf my nature, made of meA fierce brute, a human wild-beast;So that I, who from my birth,From the noble blood that tricklesThrough my veins, my generous nature,And my liberal condition,Might have proved a docile child,And so grew, it was sufficientBy so strange an education,By so wild a course of living,To have made my manners wild;--What a method to refine them!If to any man 'twas said,"It is fated that some wild-beastwill destroy you," would it beWise to wake a sleeping tigerAs the remedy of the ill?If 'twere said, "this sword here hiddenIn its sheath, which thou dost wear,Is the one foredoomed to kill thee,"Vain precaution it would beTo preserve the threatened victim.Bare to point it at his breast.If 'twere said, "these waves that rippleCalmly here for thee will buildFoam-white sepulchres of silver,"Wrong it were to trust the seaWhen its haughty breast is liftedInto mountain heights of snow,Into hills of curling crystal.Well, this very thing has happenedUnto him, who feared a wild-beast,And awoke him while he slept;Or who drew a sharp sword hiddenNaked forth, or dared the seaWhen 'twas roused by raging whirlwindsAnd though my fierce nature (hear me)Was as 'twere the sleeping tiger,A sheathed sword my innate rageAnd my wrath a quiet ripple,Fate should not be forced by meansSo unjust and so vindictive,For they but excite it more;And thus he who would be victorO'er his fortune, must succeedBy wise prudence and self-strictness.Not before an evil comethCan it rightly be resistedEven by him who hath foreseen it,For although (the fact's admitted)By an humble resignationIt is possible to diminishIts effects, it first must happen,And by no means can be hindered.Let it serve as an exampleThis strange sight, this most surprisingSpectacle, this fear, this horror,This great prodigy; for none higherE'er was worked than this we see,After years of vain contriving,Prostrate at my feet a father,And a mighty king submitted.This the sentence of high heavenWhich he did his best to hinderHe could not prevent. Can I,Who in valour and in science,Who in years am so inferior,It avert? My lord, forgive me,Rise, sir, let me clasp thy hand;For since heaven has now apprized theeThat thy mode of counteractingIts decree was wrong, a willingSacrifice to thy revengeLet my prostrate neck be given.

BASILIUS. Son, this noble act of thineIn my heart of hearts revivethAll my love, thou'rt there reborn.Thou art Prince; the bay that bindethHeroes' brows, the palm, be thine,Let the crown thine own deeds give thee.

ALL. Long live Sigismund our King!

SIGISMUND. Though my sword must wait a littleEre great victories it can gain,I to-day will win the highest,The most glorious, o'er myself.--Give, Astolfo, give your plightedHand here to Rosaura, sinceIt is due and I require it.

ASTOLFO. Though 'tis true I owe the debt,Still 'tis needful to considerThat she knows not who she is;It were infamous, a stigmaOn my name to wed a woman . . . .

CLOTALDO. Stay, Astolfo, do not finish;For Rosaura is as nobleAs yourself. My sword will right herIn the field against the world:She's my daughter, that's sufficient.

ASTOLFO. What do you say?

CLOTALDO. Until I saw herTo a noble spouse united,I her birth would not reveal.It were now a long recital,But the sum is, she's my child.

ASTOLFO. That being so, the word I've plightedI will keep.

SIGISMUND. And that EstrellaMay not now be left afflicted,Seeing she has lost a princeOf such valour and distinction,I propose from mine own handAs a husband one to give her,Who, if he does not exceedHim in worth, perhaps may rival.Give to me thy hand.

ESTRELLA. I gainBy an honour so distinguished.

SIGISMUND. To Clotaldo, who so trulyServed my father, I can give himBut these open arms whereinHe will find what'er he wishes.

A SOLDIER. If thou honorest those who serve thee,Thus, to me the first beginnerOf the tumult through the land,Who from out the tower, thy prison,Drew thee forth, what wilt thou give?

SIGISMUND. Just that tower: and that you issueNever from it until death,I will have you guarded strictly;For the traitor is not neededOnce the treason is committed.

BASILIUS. So much wisdom makes one wonder.

ASTOLFO. What a change in his condition!

ROSAURA. How discreet! how calm! how prudent!

SIGISMUND. Why this wonder, these surprises,If my teacher was a dream,And amid my new aspiringsI am fearful I may wake,And once more a prisoner find meIn my cell? But should I not,Even to dream it is sufficient:For I thus have come to knowThat at last all human blissesPass and vanish as a dream,And the time that may be given meI henceforth would turn to gain:Asking for our faults forgiveness,Since to generous, noble heartsIt is natural to forgive them.