Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 4

Name: Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 4
Author: Bridges, Robert

Bridges, Robert

English drama; English poetry

_Con._                 I believe it not.
    Would he speak for you, he were here to speak.

    _Hu._ But if at least he hath gone out from the palace
    Under strict guard, and sails to-night for Spain?

    _Con._ He is gone?                                              1700

    _Hu._              He is gone.

    _Con._                         Under constraint?

    _Hu._                                            Most certain,
    And charged with treason.

    _Con._ (_turning to Ph._). Now, Philip, I bid thee speak.

    _Ph._ Ay, Constance, it is true, but ...

    _Con._                                   Ay? thou too.
    Ay and but: falsest falsehood, seeking grace
    In shame. I knew devilry lurked about
    When I came hither. I’ll go. I’ll not believe.
    I shall know truth at last.                                [_Going._

    _Hu._                       Nay, Constance, stay.
    Philip will answer thee. Thou questionest him;
    Hear him with patience. I shall leave thee with him.
    Thou hast been a duteous daughter hitherto,
    Recover my good grace ere I return.                             1710
    (_To Ph._) ’Twas an omission, duke, I gave no order
    To seize the villain’s servants. I’ll go do it.
    Use thy occasion.                                           [_Exit._

    _Ph._             Constance, I beg thy favour.

    _Con._ I stay, your grace,—why should I go? My father
    Hath bid me hear thee: and ’tis nought to me.
    Say what thou wouldst: speak on, nor be officious
    To suit thy meaning to me, for there’s nothing
    I can believe or doubt.

    _Ph._                   O, Constance, think not
    That could I end thy sorrow by denial
    Of what thou hast heard, I would not. All is true.
    My kindest office is to unmask the ill                          1721
    That this ill hath prevented, and to show thee
    A balance of good. There lies ’gainst Manuel
    Far more than we have charged and he confessed:
    He loves thee, thinkest thou?—He hath used his place
    To plot against thy father. I here have papers
    In which thyself mayst see what accusation
    He hath writ in secret. They are addressed to Spain,
    And would have been presented ...

    _Con._                            ’Tis his writing.
    Whence was this filched?                                        1730

    _Ph._                    He gave them me himself.

    _Con._ O, a most open foe. Did he enjoin thee
    To bear them to my father?

    _Ph._                      Nor have I done so.

    _Con._ Then this, duke, yet remains for thee to do.
    Take them at once. I know not what they mean:
    But if ’tis secret it may be betrayed.
    Do it, I pray thee, do it.                                 [_Exit._

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Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 4

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