Lal. ’Tis sworn!
An Apartment in a Palace. POLITIAN and BALDAZZAR.
Baldazzar. Arouse thee now, Politian!
Thou
must not—nay indeed, indeed, thou shalt
not
Give
way unto these humors. Be thyself!
Shake
off the idle fancies that beset thee
And
live, for now thou diest!
Politian. Not so, Baldazzar!
Surely
I live.
Bal. Politian, it doth grieve
me
To
see thee thus!
Pol. Baldazzar, it doth grieve
me
To
give thee cause for grief, my honored friend.
Command
me, sir! what wouldst thou have me do?
At
thy behest I will shake off that nature
Which
from my forefathers I did inherit,
Which
with my mother’s milk I did imbibe,
And
be no more Politian, but some other.
Command
me, sir!
Bal. To the field then—to
the field—
To
the senate or the field.
Pol. Alas! alas!
There
is an imp would follow me even there!
There
is an imp hath followed me even there!
There
is—what voice was that?
Bal. I heard it not.
I
heard not any voice except thine own,
And
the echo of thine own.
Pol. Then I but dreamed.
Bal. Give not thy soul to dreams:
the camp—the court
Befit
thee—Fame awaits thee—Glory calls—
And
her the trumpet-tongued thou wilt not hear
In
hearkening to imaginary sounds
And
phantom voices.
Pol. It is a phantom
voice!
Didst
thou not hear it then?
Bal I heard it not.
Pol. Thou heardst it not!—Baldazzar,
speak no more
To
me, Politian, of thy camps and courts.
Oh!
I am sick, sick, sick, even unto death,
Of
the hollow and high-sounding vanities
Of
the populous Earth! Bear with me yet awhile
We
have been boys together—school-fellows—
And
now are friends—yet shall not be so long—
For
in the Eternal City thou shalt do me
A
kind and gentle office, and a Power—
A
Power august, benignant, and supreme—
Shall
then absolve thee of all further duties
Unto
thy friend.
