The Mysterious Mother/Act 2 Scene 4
SCENE IV.
FLORIAN, COUNTESS, PORTER.
FLORIAN.
'Tis not far off the time the porter will'd me
Expect him here. My friend, indulging grief,
Chose no companion of his pensive walk.
Yes, I must serve thee. May my prosp'rous care
Restore thee to thy state, and aid thy love
To make the blooming Adeliza thine!
'Tis not far off the time the porter will'd me
Expect him here. My friend, indulging grief,
Chose no companion of his pensive walk.
Yes, I must serve thee. May my prosp'rous care
Restore thee to thy state, and aid thy love
To make the blooming Adeliza thine!
COUNTESS, apart to the Porter.
Methought he spoke of love and Adeliza.
Who may it be?
Methought he spoke of love and Adeliza.
Who may it be?
PORTER.
I never heard his name.
I never heard his name.
COUNTESS, approaching.
Stranger, did chance or purpose guide thy steps
To this lone dwelling?
[Porter makes signs to Florian not to discover
their former interview.
Stranger, did chance or purpose guide thy steps
To this lone dwelling?
[Porter makes signs to Florian not to discover
their former interview.
FLORIAN.
Pardon, gentle lady,
If curious to behold the pious matron
Whom Narbonne's plains obey, I sought this castle,
And deem my wish indulg'd in viewing thee.
Pardon, gentle lady,
If curious to behold the pious matron
Whom Narbonne's plains obey, I sought this castle,
And deem my wish indulg'd in viewing thee.
COUNTESS.
Me! stranger. Is affliction then so rare
It occupies the babbler Fame?—Oh! no.
My sorrows are not new. Austerities
And rigid penance tempt no curious eyes.
Nor speaks your air desire of searching out
The house of mourning. Rather should you seek
Some unsunn'd beauty, some unpractic'd fair one,
Who thinks the first soft sounds she hears, are love.
There may be such at Narbonne: none dwell here,
But melancholy, sorrow, and contrition.
Me! stranger. Is affliction then so rare
It occupies the babbler Fame?—Oh! no.
My sorrows are not new. Austerities
And rigid penance tempt no curious eyes.
Nor speaks your air desire of searching out
The house of mourning. Rather should you seek
Some unsunn'd beauty, some unpractic'd fair one,
Who thinks the first soft sounds she hears, are love.
There may be such at Narbonne: none dwell here,
But melancholy, sorrow, and contrition.
FLORIAN.
Pleasure has charms; but so has virtue too.
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.
Pleasure has charms; but so has virtue too.
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?
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.
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.
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.
Mothers, like thee,
Were blessings.
Mothers, like thee,
Were blessings.
COUNTESS
Curses!
Curses!
PORTER.
Lady, 'tis the hour
Of pray'r. Shall I ring out the chapel-bell?
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.
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.
Madam, I shall not fail.
Madam, I shall not fail.
COUNTESS.
Good angels guard thee!
[Exeunt Countess and Porter.
Good angels guard thee!
[Exeunt Countess and Porter.