UGOLINO.
7
Now will the would be Prophets hug themselves,
And say, "I saw this downfall," and the scum
Of base born slaves, who yesterday had crawled,
To lick the dust I trod upon; now triumph,
Like upstart brambles, o'er the fallen pine.
Enter Second Merchant, r. e.
Sec. Mer. Sir, you are well encounter'd,—I have here,
A note of yours for fifty ducats, 'tis
A trifle, which I would not name to you,
But I have been much press'd for moneys lately,
And
Ugo. Sir, your conduct needs not an excuse
You shall be paid, and freely.—[Merchant uncovers.] Nay, sir, keep,—
Keep on your hat.—the wind respects not persons,
And you may suffer thro' civility:
What! you have heard of my misfortune, then?
And, like the expecting shark, which follows still
The dying mariner,—thou dog'st my heels
To make thy clutch the first. [Throws down a purse.
There, [crosses to r.] feed on that.
And come anon for more. I'll pay ye all!
With gold, or with my blood! Hence, whilst thou’rt safe,
My wits may fail me soon—and make thy stay.
But dangerous.
Sec. Mer. I'faith, I'll take his counsel.
[Aside.] I fancy'd all along 'twould come to this. [Exit l.
Ugo. The storm begins,—well, I must buffet it!
Let the weak sink beneath the howling blast,
I'll brave its fury. Ha! what form is that,
Which breaks upon my sight—like the first streak
Of morning, on benighted travellers?
'Tis she.
It is Olympia—O thou piece of witchcraft,
Thou breathing statue, thou unyielding softness,
Say, by what spell hast thou enchanted me,
That I must pay with dotage thy aversion,
And bless thee, whilst I drain the bitter cup
Which thou hast drugg'd for me? beneath thine eye
That spirit sinks, which all the contumely
This world can load it with, would fail to bow—
Fly, Ugolino! fly, that fatal glance!
Which thy heart withers in, yet worships still. [Exit r.
And say, "I saw this downfall," and the scum
Of base born slaves, who yesterday had crawled,
To lick the dust I trod upon; now triumph,
Like upstart brambles, o'er the fallen pine.
Enter Second Merchant, r. e.
Sec. Mer. Sir, you are well encounter'd,—I have here,
A note of yours for fifty ducats, 'tis
A trifle, which I would not name to you,
But I have been much press'd for moneys lately,
And
Ugo. Sir, your conduct needs not an excuse
You shall be paid, and freely.—[Merchant uncovers.] Nay, sir, keep,—
Keep on your hat.—the wind respects not persons,
And you may suffer thro' civility:
What! you have heard of my misfortune, then?
And, like the expecting shark, which follows still
The dying mariner,—thou dog'st my heels
To make thy clutch the first. [Throws down a purse.
There, [crosses to r.] feed on that.
And come anon for more. I'll pay ye all!
With gold, or with my blood! Hence, whilst thou’rt safe,
My wits may fail me soon—and make thy stay.
But dangerous.
Sec. Mer. I'faith, I'll take his counsel.
[Aside.] I fancy'd all along 'twould come to this. [Exit l.
Ugo. The storm begins,—well, I must buffet it!
Let the weak sink beneath the howling blast,
I'll brave its fury. Ha! what form is that,
Which breaks upon my sight—like the first streak
Of morning, on benighted travellers?
'Tis she.
It is Olympia—O thou piece of witchcraft,
Thou breathing statue, thou unyielding softness,
Say, by what spell hast thou enchanted me,
That I must pay with dotage thy aversion,
And bless thee, whilst I drain the bitter cup
Which thou hast drugg'd for me? beneath thine eye
That spirit sinks, which all the contumely
This world can load it with, would fail to bow—
Fly, Ugolino! fly, that fatal glance!
Which thy heart withers in, yet worships still. [Exit r.
Enter Olympia followed by a Servant, l.
Olym. He doth avoid me then? I thank him for't,
'Tis an ungracious task to smooth the brow,
And smile where frowns are rather merited:
Yet so must I dissemble when we meet,
Or rouse the slumb'ring demon lodged within him.
Olym. He doth avoid me then? I thank him for't,
'Tis an ungracious task to smooth the brow,
And smile where frowns are rather merited:
Yet so must I dissemble when we meet,
Or rouse the slumb'ring demon lodged within him.
