SECOND YEAR 1731.—KING CHARLES. Part I.
Enter and .—A pause.
Polyxena. And now, sir, what have you to say?
D'Ormea. Count Tende . . .
Polyxena. Affirm not I betrayed you; you resolve On uttering this strange intelligence —Nay, post yourself to find me ere I reach The capital, because you know King Charles Tarries a day or two at Evian baths Behind me:—but take warning,—here and thus [Seating herself in the royal seat.] I listen, if I listen—not your friend. Explicitly the statement, if you still Persist to urge it on me, must proceed: I am not made for aught else.
D'Ormea. Good! Count Tende . . .
Polyxena. I, who mistrust you, shall acquaint King Charles, Who even more mistrusts you.
D'Ormea. Does he so?
Polyxena. Why should he not?
D'Ormea. Ay, why not? Motives, seek You virtuous people, motives! Say, I serve God at the devil's bidding—will that do? I'm proud: our People have been pacified (Really I know not how)—
Polyxena. By truthfulness.
D'Ormea. Exactly ; that shows I had nought to do With pacifying them: our foreign perils Also exceed my means to stay: but here 'Tis otherwise, and my pride's piqued. Count Tende Completes a full year's absence: would you, madam, Have the old monarch back, his mistress back, His measures back? I pray you, act upon My counsel, or they will be.
Polyxena. When?
D'Ormea. Let's think. Home-matters settled—Victor's coming now; Let foreign matters settle—Victor's here: Unless I stop him; as I will, this way.
Polyxena. [Reading the papers he presents.] If this should prove a plot 'twixt you and Victor? You seek annoyances to give him pretext For what you say you fear!
D'Ormea. Oh, possibly! I go for nothing. Only show King Charles That thus Count Tende purposes return, And style me his inviter, if you please.
Polyxena. Half of your tale is true; most like, the Count Seeks to return: but why stay you with us? To aid in such emergencies.
D'Ormea. Keep safe Those papers: or, to serve me, leave no proof I thus have counselled: when the Count returns, And the King abdicates, 'twill stead me little To have thus counselled.
Polyxena. The King abdicate!
D'Ormea. He's good, we knew long since—wise, we discover— Firm, let us hope:—but I'd have gone to work With him away. Well!
[Charles without.] In the Council Chamber?
D'Ormea. All's lost!
Polyxena. Oh, surely, not King Charles! He's changed— That's not this year's care-burdened voice and step: 'Tis last year's step—the Prince's voice!
D'Ormea. I know!
[Enter Charles:—D'Ormea retiring a little.]
Charles. Now wish me joy, Polyxena! Wish it me The old way! [She embraces him.] There was too much cause for that! But I have found myself again! What's news At Turin? Oh, if you but felt the load I'm free of—free! I said this year would end Or it, or me—but I am free, thank God!
Polyxena. How, Charles?
Charles. You do not guess? The day I found Sardinia's hideous coil, at home, abroad, And how my father was involved in it,— Of course, I vowed to rest or smile no more Until I freed his name from obloquy. We did the people right—'twas much to gain That point, redress our nobles' grievance, too— But that took place here, was no crying shame: All must be done abroad,—if I abroad Appeased the justly angered Powers, destroyed The scandal, took down Victor's name at last From a bad eminence, I then might breathe And rest! No moment was to lose. Behold The proud result—a Treaty, Austria, Spain Agree to—
D'Ormea. [Aside.] I shall merely stipulate For an experienced headsman.
Charles. Not a soul Is compromised: the blotted Past's a blank: Even D'Ormea will escape unquestioned. See! It reached me from Vienna; I remained At Evian to despatch the Count his news; 'Tis gone to Chambery a week ago— And here am I: do I deserve to feel Your warm white arms around me?
D'Ormea. [coming forward.] He knows that?
Charles. What, in Heaven's name, means this?
D'Ormea. He knows that matters Are settled at Vienna? Not too late!
D'Ormea. Plainly, unless you post this very hour Some man you trust (say, me) to Chambery, And take precautions I'll acquaint you with, Your father will return here.
Charles. Is he crazed, This D'Ormea? Here? For what? As well return To take his crown!
D'Ormea. He will return for that.
Charles. [to Polyxena.] You have not listened to this man?
Polyxena. He spoke About your safety—and I listened.
[He disengages himself from her arm.]
Charles. [to D'Ormea.] What Apprised you of the Count's intentions?