The Complete Works of John Keats: Poems, Plays & Personal Letters. John Keats. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: John Keats
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Table of Contents

      The Courtyard of the Castle. Martial Music.

      Enter, from the outer gate, OTHO, Nobles, Knights, and Attendants. The Soldiers halt at the gate, with Banners in sight.

      Otho.

       Where is my noble herald?

      Enter CONRAD, from the Castle, attended by two Knights and

      Servants.

       ALBERT following.

       Well, hast told

       Auranthe our intent imperial?

       Lest our rent banners, too o’ the sudden shown,

       Should fright her silken casements, and dismay

       Her household to our lack of entertainment.

       A victory!

      Conrad.

       God save illustrious Otho!

      Otho.

       Aye, Conrad, it will pluck out all grey hairs;

       It is the best physician for the spleen;

       The courtliest inviter to a feast;

       The subtlest excuser of small faults;

       And a nice judge in the age and smack of wine.

      Enter, from the Castle, AURANTHE, followed by Pages holdingup her robes, and a tram of Women. She kneels.

      Hail my sweet hostess! I do thank the stars,

       Or my good soldiers, or their ladies’ eyes,

       That, after such a merry battle fought,

       I can, all safe in body and in soul,

       Kiss your fair hand and lady fortune’s too.

       My ring! now, on my life, it doth rejoice

       These lips to feel ‘t on this soft ivory!

       Keep it, my brightest daughter; it may prove

       The little prologue to a line of kings.

       I strove against thee and my hot-blood son,

       Dull blockhead that I was to be so blind,

       But now my sight is clear; forgive me, lady.

      Auranthe.

       My lord, I was a vassal to your frown,

       And now your favour makes me but more humble;

       In wintry winds the simple snow is safe,

       But fadeth at the greeting of the sun:

       Unto thine anger I might well have spoken,

       Taking on me a woman’s privilege,

       But this so sudden kindness makes me dumb.

      Otho.

       What need of this? Enough, if you will be

       A potent tutoress to my wayward boy,

       And teach him, what it seems his nurse could not

       To say, for once, I thank you. Sigifred!

      Albert.

       He has not yet return’d, my gracious liege.

      Otho.

       What then! No tidings of my friendly Arab?

      Conrad.

       None, mighty Otho.

       [To one of his Knights, who goes out.

       Send forth instantly

       An hundred horsemen from my honoured gates,

       To scour the plains and search the cottages.

       Cry a reward, to him who shall first bring

       News of that vanished Arabian,

       A full-heap’d helmet of the purest gold.

      Otho.

       More thanks, good Conrad; for, except my son’s,

       There is no face I rather would behold

       Than that same quick-eyed pagan’s. By the saints,

       This coming night of banquets must not light

       Her dazzling torches; nor the music breathe

       Smooth, without clashing cymbal, tones of peace

       And in-door melodies; nor the ruddy wine

       Ebb spouting to the lees; if I pledge not

       In my first cup, that Arab!

      Albert.

       Mighty Monarch,

       I wonder not this stranger’s victor-deeds

       So, hang upon your spirit. Twice in the fight

       It was my chance to meet his olive brow,

       Triumphant in the enemy’s shatter ‘d rhomb;

       And, to say truth, in any Christian arm

       I never saw such prowess.

      Otho.

       Did you ever?

       O, ’tis a noble boy! tut! what do I say?

       I mean a triple Saladin, whose eyes,

       When in the glorious scuffle they met mine,

       Seem’d to say “Sleep, old man, in safety sleep;

       I am the victory!”

      Conrad.

       Pity he’s not here.

      Otho.

       And my son too, pity he is not here.

       Lady Auranthe, I would not make you blush,

       But can you give a guess where Ludolph is?

       Know you not of him?

      Auranthe.

       Indeed, my liege, no secret

      Otho.

       Nay, nay, without more words, dost know of him?

      Auranthe.

       I would I were so over-fortunate,

       Both for his sake and mine, and to make glad

       A father’s ears with tidings of his son.

      Otho.

       I see ’tis like to be a tedious day.

       Were Theodore and Gonfred and the rest

       Sent forth with my commands?

      Albert.

       Aye, my lord.

      Otho.

       And no news! No news! ‘Faith! ’tis very strange

       He thus avoids us. Lady, is’t not strange?

       Will he be truant to you too? It is a shame.

      Conrad.

       Will ‘t please your highness enter, and accept

       The unworthy welcome of your servant’s house?

       Leaving your cares to one whose diligence

       May in few hours make pleasures of them all.

      Otho.

       Not so tedious, Conrad. No, no, no,

       I must see Ludolph or the What’s that shout!

       Voices without. Huzza! huzza! Long live the Emperor!

       Other Voices. Fall back! Away there!

      Otho.

       Say, what noise is that?

       [ALBERT advancing from the bark of the Stage, whither he had

       hastened on hearing the cheers of the soldiery.