Browning's England Part 33

_Austin._ He's so young!

_Guendolen._ Young? Old enough, I think, to half surmise He never had obtained an entrance here, Were all this fear and trembling needed.

_Austin._ Hush!

He reddens.

_Guendolen._ Mark him, Austin; that's true love!

Ours must begin again.

_Tresham._ We'll sit, my lord.

Ever with best desert goes diffidence.

I may speak plainly nor be misconceived.

That I am wholly satisfied with you On this occasion, when a falcon's eye Were dull compared with mine to search out faults, Is somewhat. Mildred's hand is hers to give Or to refuse.

_Mertoun._ But you, you grant my suit?

I have your word if hers?

_Tresham._ My best of words If hers encourage you. I trust it will.

Have you seen Lady Mildred, by the way?

_Mertoun._ I ... I ... our two demesnes, remember, touch; I have been used to wander carelessly After my stricken game: the heron roused Deep in my woods, has trailed its broken wing Thro' thicks and glades a mile in yours,--or else Some eya.s.s ill-reclaimed has taken flight And lured me after her from tree to tree, I marked not whither. I have come upon The lady's wondrous beauty unaware, And--and then ... I have seen her.

_Guendolen_ [_aside to AUSTIN_]. Note that mode Of faltering out that, when a lady pa.s.sed, He, having eyes, did see her! You had said-- "On such a day I scanned her, head to foot; Observed a red, where red should not have been, Outside her elbow; but was pleased enough Upon the whole." Let such irreverent talk Be lessoned for the future!

_Tresham._ What's to say May be said briefly. She has never known A mother's care; I stand for father too.

Her beauty is not strange to you, it seems-- You cannot know the good and tender heart, Its girl's trust and its woman's constancy, How pure yet pa.s.sionate, how calm yet kind, How grave yet joyous, how reserved yet free As light where friends are--how imbued with lore The world most prizes, yet the simplest, yet The ... one might know I talked of Mildred--thus We brothers talk!

_Mertoun._ I thank you.

_Tresham._ In a word, Control's not for this lady; but her wish To please me outstrips in its subtlety My power of being pleased: herself creates The want she means to satisfy. My heart Prefers your suit to her as 'twere its own.

Can I say more?

_Mertoun._ No more--thanks, thanks--no more!

_Tresham._ This matter then discussed....

_Mertoun._ --We'll waste no breath On aught less precious. I'm beneath the roof Which holds her: while I thought of that, my speech To you would wander--as it must not do, Since as you favor me I stand or fall.

I pray you suffer that I take my leave!

_Tresham._ With less regret 't is suffered, that again We meet, I hope, so shortly.

_Mertoun._ We? again?-- Ah yes, forgive me--when shall ... you will crown Your goodness by forthwith apprising me When ... if ... the lady will appoint a day For me to wait on you--and her.

_Tresham._ So soon As I am made acquainted with her thoughts On your proposal--howsoe'er they lean-- A messenger shall bring you the result.

_Mertoun._ You cannot bind me more to you, my lord.

Farewell till we renew ... I trust, renew A converse ne'er to disunite again.

_Tresham._ So may it prove!

_Mertoun._ You, lady, you, sir, take My humble salutation!

_Guendolen and Austin._ Thanks!

_Tresham._ Within there!

[_+Servants+ enter. TRESHAM conducts MERTOUN to the door. Meantime AUSTIN remarks_,

Here I have an advantage of the Earl, Confess now! I'd not think that all was safe Because my lady's brother stood my friend!

Why, he makes sure of her--"do you say, yes"-- "She'll not say, no,"--what comes it to beside?

I should have prayed the brother, "speak this speech, For Heaven's sake urge this on her--put in this-- Forget not, as you'd save me, t'other thing,-- Then set down what she says, and how she looks, And if she smiles, and" (in an under breath) "Only let her accept me, and do you And all the world refuse me, if you dare!"

_Guendolen._ That way you'd take, friend Austin? What a shame I was your cousin, tamely from the first Your bride, and all this fervor's run to waste!

Do you know you speak sensibly to-day?

The Earl's a fool.

_Austin._ Here's Thorold. Tell him so!

_Tresham_ [_returning_]. Now, voices, voices! 'St! the lady's first!

How seems he?--seems he not ... come, faith give fraud The mercy-stroke whenever they engage!

Down with fraud, up with faith! How seems the Earl?

A name! a blazon! if you knew their worth, As you will never! come--the Earl?

_Guendolen._ He's young.

_Tresham._ What's she? an infant save in heart and brain.

Young! Mildred is fourteen, remark! And you ...

Austin, how old is she?

_Guendolen._ There's tact for you!

I meant that being young was good excuse If one should tax him....

_Tresham._ Well?

_Guendolen._ --With lacking wit.

_Tresham._ He lacked wit? Where might he lack wit, so please you?

_Guendolen._ In standing straighter than the steward's rod And making you the tiresomest harangue, Instead of slipping over to my side And softly whispering in my ear, "Sweet lady, Your cousin there will do me detriment He little dreams of: he's absorbed, I see, In my old name and fame--be sure he'll leave My Mildred, when his best account of me Is ended, in full confidence I wear My grandsire's periwig down either cheek.

I'm lost unless your gentleness vouchsafes"....

_Tresham._ ... "To give a best of best accounts, yourself, Of me and my demerits." You are right!

He should have said what now I say for him.

Yon golden creature, will you help us all?

Here's Austin means to vouch for much, but you --You are ... what Austin only knows! Come up, All three of us: she's in the library No doubt, for the day's wearing fast. Precede!

_Guendolen._ Austin, how we must--!

_Tresham._ Must what? Must speak truth, Malignant tongue! Detect one fault in him!