can I have in common with such insipid wretches, whose souls, like their watches, are regulated by machinery? What pleasure can I have in the society of people whose answers to my questions I know beforehand? How can I hold communion with men who dare not venture on an opinion of their own lest it should differ from mine! Away with them – I care not to ride a horse that has not spirit enough to champ the bit! (Goes to the window.)
SOPHY. But surely, my lady, you except the prince, the handsomest, the wittiest, and the most gallant man in all his duchy.
LADY MILFORD (returning). Yes, in his duchy, that was well said – and it is only a royal duchy, Sophy, that could in the least excuse my weakness. You say the world envies me! Poor thing! It should rather pity me! Believe me, of all who drink of the streams of royal bounty there is none more miserable than the sovereign's favorite, for he who is great and mighty in the eyes of others comes to her but as the humble suppliant! It is true that by the talisman of his greatness he can realize every wish of my heart as readily as the magician calls forth the fairy palace from the depths of the earth! He can place the luxuries of both Indies upon my table, turn the barren wilderness to a paradise, can bid the broad rivers of his land play in triumphal arches over my path, or expend all the hard-earned gains of his subjects in a single feu-de-joie to my honor. But can he school his heart to respond to one great or ardent emotion? Can he extort one noble thought from his weak and indigent brain? Alas! my heart is thirsting amid all this ocean of splendor; what avail, then, a thousand virtuous sentiments when I am only permitted to indulge in the pleasures of the senses.
SOFHY (regarding her with surprise). Dear lady, you amaze me! how long is it since I entered your service?
LADY MILFORD. Do you ask because this is the first day on which you have learnt to know me? I have sold my honor to the prince, it is true, but my heart is still my own – a heart, dear Sophy, which even yet may be worth the acceptance of an honorable man – a heart over which the pestilential blast of courtly corruption has passed as the breath which for a moment dims the mirror's lustre. Believe me my spirit would long since have revolted against this miserable thraldom could my ambition have submitted to see another advanced to my place.
SOPHY. And could a heart like yours so readily surrender itself to mere ambition?
LADY MILFORD (with energy). Has it not already been avenged? nay, is it not even at this very moment making me pay a heavy atonement (with emphasis laying her hand on SOPHY'S shoulder)? Believe me, Sophy, woman has but to choose between ruling and serving, but the utmost joy of power is a worthless possession if the mightier joy of being slave to the man we love be denied us.
SOPHY. A truth, dear lady, which I could least of all have expected to hear from your lips!
LADY MILFORD. And wherefore, Sophy? Does not woman show, by her childish mode of swaying the sceptre of power, that she is only fit to go in leading-strings! Have not my fickle humors – my eager pursuit of wild dissipation – betrayed to you that I sought in these to stifle the still wilder throbbings of my heart?
SOPHY (starting back with surprise). This from you, my lady?
LADY MILFORD (continuing with increasing energy). Appease these throbbings. Give me the man in whom my thoughts are centered – the man I adore, without whom life were worse than death. Let me but hear from his lips that the tears of love with which my eyes are bedewed outvie the gems that sparkle in my hair, and I will throw at the feet of the prince his heart and his dukedom, and flee to the uttermost parts of the earth with the man of my love!
SOPHY (looking at her in alarm). Heavens! my lady! control your emotion —
LADY MILFORD (in surprise). You change color! To what have I given utterance? Yet, since I have said thus much, let me say still more – let my confidence be a pledge of your fidelity, – I will tell you all.
SOPHY (looking anxiously around). I fear my lady – I dread it – I have heard enough!
LADY MILFORD. This alliance with the major – you, like the rest of the world, believe to be the result of a court intrigue – Sophy, blush not – be not ashamed of me – it is the work of – my love!
SOPHY. Heavens! As I suspected!
LADY MILFORD. Yes, Sophy, they are all deceived. The weak prince – the diplomatic baron – the silly marshal – each and all of these are firmly convinced that this marriage is a most infallible means of preserving me to the prince, and of uniting us still more firmly! But this will prove the very means of separating us forever, and bursting asunder these execrable bonds. The cheater cheated – outwitted by a weak woman. Ye yourselves are leading me to the man of my heart – this was all I sought. Let him but once be mine – be but mine – then, oh, then, a long farewell to all this despicable pomp!
SCENE II. – An old valet of the DUKE'S, with a casket of jewels. The former
VALET. His serene highness begs your ladyship's acceptance of these jewels as a nuptial present. They have just arrived from Venice.
LADY MILFORD (opens the casket and starts back in astonishment). What did these jewels cost the duke?
VALET. Nothing!
LADY MILFORD. Nothing! Are you beside yourself? (retreating a step or two.) Old man! you fix on me a look as though you would pierce me through. Did you say these precious jewels cost nothing?
VALET. Yesterday seven thousand children of the land left their homes to go to America – they pay for all.
LADY MILFORD (sets the casket suddenly down, and paces up and down the room; after a pause, to the VALET). What distresses you, old man? you are weeping!
VALET (wiping his eyes, and trembling violently). Yes, for these jewels. My two sons are among the number.
LADY MILFORD. But they went not by compulsion?
VALET (laughing bitterly). Oh! dear no! they were all volunteers! There were certainly some few forward lads who pushed to the front of the ranks and inquired of the colonel at what price the prince sold his subjects per yoke, upon which our gracious ruler ordered the regiments to be marched to the parade, and the malcontents to be shot. We heard the report of the muskets, and saw brains and blood spurting about us, while the whole band shouted – "Hurrah for America!"
LADY MILFORD. And I heard nothing of all this! saw nothing!
VALET. No, most gracious lady, because you rode off to the bear-hunt with his highness just at the moment the drum was beating for the march. 'Tis a pity your ladyship missed the pleasure of the sight – here, crying children might be seen following their wretched father – there, a mother distracted with grief was rushing forward to throw her tender infant among the bristling bayonets – here, a bride and bridegroom were separated with the sabre's stroke – and there, graybeards were seen to stand in despair, and fling their very crutches after their sons in the New World – and, in the midst of all this, the drums were beating loudly, that the prayers and lamentations might not reach the Almighty ear.
LADY MILFORD (rising in violent emotion). Away with these jewels – their rays pierce my bosom like the flames of hell. Moderate your grief, old man. Your children shall be restored to you. You shall again clasp them to your bosom.
VALET (with warmth). Yes, heaven knows! We shall meet again! As they passed the city gates they turned round and cried aloud: "God bless our wives and children – long life to our gracious sovereign. At the day of judgment we shall all meet again!"
LADY MILFORD (walks up and down the room in great agitation). Horrible! most horrible! – and they would persuade me that I had dried up all the tears in the land. Now, indeed, my eyes are fearfully opened! Go – tell the prince that I will thank him in person! (As the valet is going she drops the purse into his hat.) And take this as a recompense for the truth you have revealed to me.
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