Page:The Works of the Late Edgar Allan Poe (Volume II).djvu/99

72 When saw you now, Baldazzar, in the frigid Ungenial Britain which we left so lately, A heaven so calm as this—so utterly free From the evil taint of clouds?—and he did say? Bal. No more, my lord, than I have told you, sir: The Count Castiglione will not fight, Having no cause for quarrel. Pol. Now this is true— All very true. Thou art my friend, Baldazzar, And I have not forgotten it—thou'lt do me A piece of service; wilt thou go back and say Unto this man, that I, the Earl of Leicester, Hold him a villain?—thus much, I prythee, say Unto the Count—it is exceeding just He should have cause for quarrel. Bal. My lord!—my friend!——— Pol. (aside.) 'Tis he—he comes himself! (aloud.) thou reasonest well. I know what thou wouldst say—not send the message— Well!—I will think of it—I will not send it. Now prythee, leave me—hither doth come a person With whom affairs of a most private nature I would adjust. Bal. I go—to-morrow we meet, Do we not?—at the Vatican. Pol. At the Vatican.(exit Bal.) Enter Castiglione. Cas. The Earl of Leicester here! Pol. I am the Earl of Leicester, and thou seest, Dost thou not? that I am here. Cas. My lord, some strange, Some singular mistake—misunderstanding— Hath without doubt arisen: thou hast been urged