HELENA: And is the world Not s.p.a.ce enough but he must needs come here!

If it were----?

ANTONIO: Haemon?--'Twere perhaps not ill.

HELENA: I know not! Broodings smoulder from his moods Feverous bitter.

ANTONIO: Kindness then shall quench them.

But now, away. Forget this dread and be you By day my lark, by night my nightingale, Not a sad bird of boding!

HELENA: With the day All will be well.

ANTONIO: Remember then you are Only a little slept from your life's sh.o.r.e Out on the infinite of love, whose air Is awe and mystery.

HELENA: I go, my lord.

Think of me oft!

ANTONIO (_taking her in his arms_): My Helena!

(_She goes with PAULA. He steps aside and watches the approaching forms._)

'Tis Haemon!

My father!

_Enter CHARLES friendly, with HaeMON._

CHARLES: So, no farther? you'll stop here?

HaeMON: Sir, if you grant it. I----

CHARLES (_twittingly_): Some rendezvous?

Who is she? Ah, young blood and Spring and night!

HaeMON: No rendezvous, my lord.

CHARLES: Some lay then you Would muse on?

HaeMON: Yes, a lay.

CHARLES: And one of love?

The word, you see, founts easy to my lips.

(_With confidential archness._) 'Tis recent in my thought--as you will learn.

HaeMON: How, sir, and when?

CHARLES: O, when? Be not surprised!-- Well, to the lay!

(_He goes._

HaeMON: Cruel! His soldiers waste The bread of honesty, the hope of age!

Are drunken, b.l.o.o.d.y, indolent, and l.u.s.t To tear all innocence away and robe Our loveliest in shame!--Yet me, a Greek, He suddenly befriends!

ANTONIO (_coming forward_): Haemon----

HaeMON: Ah, you?

ANTONIO: There's room between your tone and courtesy.

HaeMON: And shall be while I'm readier to bend Over a beggar's pain than prince's fingers.

ANTONIO: And yet you know me better----

HaeMON: Than to believe You're not Antonio, son of Charles di Tocca?

ANTONIO: I'd be your friend.

HaeMON: So would he: and he smiles.

ANTONIO: There are deep reasons for it.

HaeMON: With him too!

Against a miracle, you are his heir!

ANTONIO: I think it would be well for you to listen.

My confidence once curbed----

HaeMON: May bite and paw?

Let it! for fools are threats, and cowards. Were You Tamerlane and mine the skull should cap A b.l.o.o.d.y pyramid of enemies, I'd----!

ANTONIO: Hear me. Will you be so blind?

HaeMON: To your Fair graces? No, my lord--not so. Your sword And doublet are sublimely worn! sublimely!

Your curls would tempt an empress' fingers, and----

ANTONIO: Why is my anger silent?

HaeMON: Let it speak And not this subtle pride! You would be friend, A friend to me--a friend!--Did not your father Into a sick and sunless keep cast mine Because he was a Greek and still a Greek, And would not be a slave? His cunning has Not whispered death about him as a pest?

He--he, my friend? and you?--And I on him Should lean, and flatter----?

ANTONIO: Cease: though he has stains The times are tyrannous and men like beasts Find mercy preservation's enemy.

You're heated with suspicion and old wrong, But take my hand as pledge----

HaeMON (_refusing it_): That you'll be false?

_Enter BARDAS._

BARDAS: I've sought you, Haemon. Antonio? We are Well met then: to your doors my want was bent With a request.

ANTONIO: Which gladly I shall hear And if I can will grant.

BARDAS: My haste is blunt-- As is my tongue.