Bal. The song is English, and I oft have heard it In merry England,-never so plaintively.

Hist! hist! it comes again!

Voice (more loudly).

"Is it so strong

As for to leave me thus,
Who hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong

As for to leave me thus?
Say nay-say nay!"

Bal. 'Tis hushed, and all is still!

Pol.

Bal. Let us go down.

Pol.

All is not still!

Go down, Baldazzar,-go!

Bal. The hour is growing late-the Duke awaits

us,

Thy presence is expected in the hall

Below. What ails thee, Earl Politian?

Voice (distinctly).

"Who hath loved thee so long,

In wealth and woe among,

And is thy heart so strong?

Say nay-say nay!"

Bal. Let us descend!-'tis time. Politian, give

These fancies to the wind. Remember, pray,

Your bearing lately savoured much of rudeness
Unto the Duke. Arouse thee, and remember!
Pol. Remember? I do. Lead on!

member.

I do re

[Going.

Let us descend. Believe me, I would give,— Freely would give, the broad lands of my earldom

To look upon the face hidden by yon lattice,—

To gaze upon that veiled face, and hear

Once more that silent tongue."

Bal.

Let me beg you, sir,

Descend with me; the Duke may be offended.

Let us go down, I pray you.

Pol. (Aside.) 'Tis strange !-'t is very strange!

Methought the voice

Chimed in with my desires, and bade me stay!
[Approaching the window.

Sweet voice, I heed thee, and will surely stay!
Now be this Fancy, by Heaven! or be it Fate,
Still will I not descend. Baldazzar, make
Apology unto the Duke for me:

I go not down to-night.

Bal.

Shall be attended to.

Your lordship's pleasure

Good night, Politian.

Pol. Good night, my friend, good night.

Lalage. And dost thou speak of love
To me, Politian ?-dost thou speak of love
To Lalage?-Ah, woe-ah, woe is me!

This mockery is most cruel-most cruel indeed!
Politian. Weep not! oh, sob not thus!-thy

bitter tears

Will madden me. Oh mourn not, Lalage

Be comforted!

I know-I know it all,

And still I speak of love. Look at me, brightest, And beautiful Lalage !-turn here thine eyes! Thou askest me if I could speak of love,

Knowing what I know, and seeing what I have seen. Thou askest me that. and thus I answer thee

Thus on my bended knee I answer thee

[Kneeling.

Sweet Lalage, I love thee-love thee—love thee;

Thro' good and ill—thro' weal and woe I love thee.
Not mother, with her first-born on her knee,
Thrills with intenser love than I for thee.
Not on God's altar, in any time or clime,

Burned there a holier fire than burneth now

Within my spirit for thee. And do I love? [Arising. Even for thy woes I love thee-even for thy woes Thy beauty and thy woes.

Lal.

Alas, proud Earl,

Thou dost forget thyself, remembering me!
How, in thy father's halls, among the maidens

Pure and reproachless of thy princely line,

Could the dishonoured Lalage abide ?

Thy wife, and with a tainted memory—

My seared and blighted name, how would it tally
With the ancestral honours of thy house,

And with thy glory?

Pol.

Speak not to me of glory!

I hate I loathe the name; I do abhor

The unsatisfactory and ideal thing.

Art thou not Lalage and I Politian ?

Do I not love-art thou not beautiful

What need we more? Ha! glory!-now speak not of it!

By all I hold most sacred and most solemn—

By all I scorn on earth and hope in heaven

There is no deed I would more glory in,
Than in thy cause to scoff at this same glory,
And trample it under foot! What matters it-
What matters it, my fairest and my best,
That we go down unhonoured and forgotten
Into the dust, so we descend together?
Descend together; and then

chance

Lal. Why dost thou pause,

Pol. And then, perchance,

and then, per

Politian?

Arise together, Lalage, and roam

The starry and quiet dwellings of the blest,

And still

Lal.

Why dost thou pause, Politian?

Pol. And still together-together.

Lal. Now, Earl of Leicester,

Thou lovest me, and in my heart of hearts

I feel thou lovest me truly.

Pol. Oh, Lalage! [Throwing himself upon his knee.

And lovest thou me ?

Lal.

Hist! hush! within the gloom