Page:The Mysterious Mother - Walpole (1781).djvu/43

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A TRAGEDY.
35
One skims the surface, like the swallow's wing,
And scuds away unnotic'd. T'other nymph,
Like spotless swans in solemn majesty,
Breasts the full surge, and leaves long light behind.

COUNTESS.
Your courtly phrase, young knight, bespeaks a birth
Above the vulgar. May I ask, how old
Your residence in Narbonne? Whence your race?

FLORIAN.
In Brabant was I born: my father's name,
The baron of St. Orme. I wait at Narbonne
My letters of exchange, while passing homewards
To gather my late sire's no mean succession.

COUNTESS.
Dead is your father! and unwet your cheek!
Trust me, young sir, a father's guardian arm
Were well worth all the treasures it withheld.
A mother might be spar'd.

FLORIAN.
A mother might be spar'd.Mothers, like thee,
Were blessings.

COUNTESS
Were blessings.Curses!

PORTER.
Were blessings. Curses!Lady, 'tis the hour
Of pray'r. Shall I ring out the chapel-bell?

COUNTESS.
Stranger, I'm summon'd hence. Within these walls
I may not speak with thee: my solemn purpose
Admits no converse with unsteady youth.
But at St. Bridget's nunnery, to-morrow,
If you can spare some moments from your pastime,
In presence of the abbess, I would talk with thee.

FLORIAN.

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