The poetical works of George MacDonald in two volumes — Volume 1

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George MacDonald

Жанр

Зарубежная классика

Год написания книги

2018

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Steward.
I knew it was a favorite with my lord;
I've taken care of it. A month ago,
With my own hands I painted it all fresh,
Fitting new oars and rowlocks. The old sail
I'll have replaced immediately; and then
'Twill be as good as new.

Julian.
That's excellent.
Well, launch it in the evening. Make it fast
To the stone steps behind my garden study.
Stow in the lockers some sea-stores, and put
The money in the old desk in the study.

Steward.
I will, my lord. It will be safe enough.

SCENE XIV.—A road near the town. A Waggoner. STEPHEN, in lay dress, coming up to him

Stephen.
Whose castle's that upon the hill, good fellow?

Waggoner.
Its present owner's of the Uglii;
They call him Lorenzino.

Stephen.
Whose is that
Down in the valley?

Waggoner.
That is Count Lamballa's.

Stephen.
What is his Christian name?

Waggoner.
Omfredo. No,
That was his father's; his is Julian.

Stephen.
Is he at home?

Waggoner.
No, not for many a day.
His steward, honest man, I know is doubtful
Whether he be alive; and yet his land
Is better farmed than any in the country.

Stephen.
He is not married, then?

Waggoner.
No. There's a gossip
Amongst the women—but who would heed their talk!—
That love half-crazed, then drove him out of doors,
To wander here and there, like a bad ghost,
Because a silly wench refused him:—fudge!

Stephen.
Most probably. I quite agree with you.
Where do you stop?

Waggoner.
At the first inn we come to;
You'll see it from the bottom of the hill.
There is a better at the other end,
But here the stabling is by far the best.

Stephen.
I must push on. Four legs can never go
Down-hill so fast as two. Good morning, friend.

Waggoner.
Good morning, sir.

Stephen (aside)
I take the further house.

SCENE XV.—The Nurse's room. JULIAN and LILIA standing near the window

Julian.
But do you really love me, Lilia?

Lilia.
Why do you make me say it so often, Julian?
You make me say I love you, oftener far
Than you say you love me.

Julian.
To love you seems
So much a thing of mere necessity!
I can refrain from loving you no more
Than keep from waking when the sun shines full
Upon my face.

Lilia.
And yet I love to say