Bardas: I've sought you, Hæmon. 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.

      Hæmon: Then yield it us at once,

      Our mood is so.

      Bardas: Hæmon, I love your sister.

      Not love: I am idolatrous before

      Her foot's least print, and cannot breathe or pray

      But where she's sometime been and left a heaven!

      Hæmon: Therefore you'll cry it maudlin at the streets?

      Bardas: Necessity's not over delicate.

      Antonio, sue for me. You have been apt

      In all love's skill they say. My oath on it

      Your words once sown upon her listening

      Would not lie fruitless did they bid her yield

      More than her most.

      Hæmon: Bardas! Do you – Does such

      Unseemliness run in your thought?

      Bardas: Peace, Hæmon.

      Antonio, speak.

      Antonio: You're strange in this request.

      Helena, whom I've seen, would little thank

      The eyes that told her own where they should love.

      Bardas: I saved your life, my lord.

      Antonio: And I've besought

      Occasion oft for loaning of some chance

      Worthily to repay you. If 'tis this,

      I am distrest. I cannot plead your suit.

      Bardas: You cannot or you will not?

      Antonio: I have said.

      Ask me for service on your foes, for gold,

      Faith or devotion, friendship you're aloof to,

      For all that will and honor well may render

      With nicety, and I'll be wings and heart,

      More – drudge to your desire.

      Hæmon: Nobly, my lord!

      Bardas, you must atone —

      Bardas: Peace, Hæmon.

      Hæmon: Peace

      Is goad and gall! Why do you burn my cheek

      With this indignity?

      Bardas: Do you ask why? (to Antonio.)

      A little since one of your father's guard

      Gave his command in seal to Helena

      Upon the streets, to instantly repair

      Unto his halls – which she must henceforth honor.

      You knew it not?

      Antonio: My father?

      Bardas: O, well feigned.

      Be sure none will suspect he is too old

      For knightly feat like this – and that he has

      A son!

      Antonio: To Helena! my father! sealed!

      Hæmon: Bardas, you bring the truth? – And so, my lord,

      You stab me through another – you, my friend?

      Antonio (to Bardas): Do you mean that – ?

      Bardas: Until this hour I held

      The race of Charles di Tocca bold, or other

      But empty of all lies in deed or speech,

      It grows – a little low?

      Antonio: Why you are mad!

      Are mad! I'm naked of this thing, and hide

      No guilt behind the wonder of my face.

      For Paradises brimming with all Beauty

      I would not lay one fancy's weight of shame

      On her you name!

      Bardas: A pretty protest – but

      A breath too heavenly.

      Antonio: Leave sneering there!

      You have repaid yourself – cast on me words

      Intolerable more than loss of life.

      You both shall learn this night's entangling.

      But know, between her, Helena, and shame

      I burn with flaming heart and fearless hand!

      Hæmon: He can be false and wear this mien of truth?

      Bardas: I'll not believe!

      Hæmon: But, what: my sister seized?

      Bardas: Ah, what! – "He burns with flaming heart!" – have we

      No flesh to understand this passion then?

      Bound to the wings of wide ambition he

      Will choose undowered worth? – To the ordeal

      Of mere suspicion's flaming I'd not trust

      The fairness of his name; but doubts in me

      Are sunk with proofs.

      Hæmon: No, no!

      Bardas: Unyielding.

      Hæmon: Proof?

      He could not. No! he dare not!

      Bardas: Yet the rogue

      Cecco, the duke's half-seneschal, half-spy,

      I passed upon the streets o'ermuch in wine,

      Leaning upon a tipsier jade and spouting

      With drunken mockery,