VAL. If fortune's tide Have met a turn, no matter by what means, Would it be well to stand aloof, and miss The way to honour? Will not thy absence Rather awake impertinent remark,-- Be deemed his will?
RICHE. There's reason in thy words; And more, so prodigal is he, so reckless, New honours he may heap on her, and plead Omission on my part as his excuse. I'll spare him that pretence.--Prepare for Baugenci.
DU N. There is a magic In the full sweet tones of her impressive voice, Which heard but once, dwells long upon the ear, Charmed with the sound; then sinks into the heart, No more to be forgotten, pleading still When she herself is mute. How goes the hour?
XAINT. Day's harbinger, with chilly lips, has kissed The pine's tall top. The camp is locked in sleep So deep, that yon marauding fox's step Distinctly may be heard.
DU N. Sleep flies my lids-- For the first time I dread to-morrow's chance. The attempt is bold, and skilfully conceived, On Suffolk's ranks to fall, and break his force Ere Talbot can arrive and strength unite; But if the project fail!--(_Aside,_) I cannot think Of her disgraced, without a pang.
XAINT. Should fail! Who fears defeat in what the maid devises?
DU N. Heaven doth not always smile on those he loves. Time offers marvels: once the name of Joan I scorned, abhorred! I do not hate it now, Though now I've cause. She robs me of renown, And at her bidding I unsheath my sword.
XAINT. She may be proud!--a victory she has won, That spirit to subdue. She hath in truth A charm to make stern hearts most meek, and yet She is not beautiful, as men count beauty.
DU N. She is the better suited to my taste; I do despise the doll, where nought of soul Is ever seen to light the faultless eye.
XAINT. Yet glances have been cast on thee Which might have thawed the coldest heart, and caused An angry lance to tremble in its rest.
DU N. Hers is that beauty by the mind conferred, The outward vestment lumined by the soul, Which sets respect as centinel to guard The treasure stored within, and from approach Too near, restrains those whisperers of nought, Who throng impertinent around the form, Which owes to symmetry alone, and feature, Its power to fascinate. There is a dignity Withal in her simplicity, which awes The surer for the company unwont In which 'tis found. Nature herein has mocked The cunning artist's skill, who, in a rim Of purest silver sets his goodliest stone, Making the metal richer for the gem.