Page:Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition) v14.djvu/76

54

The hour has struck,—they will be here anon,—

Trust them to keep tryst for a villainous deed.

I had need to whet the memory of my wrong,

Or my girl's angel face and innocent tongue

Had shaken even my steadfastness of purpose!

And Malatesta's wife has done her kindness,—

I would that she had not! But what's such slight service

To my huge wrong? Let me but think of that!

I grow too human near my child. I lack

The sharp sting of court scorn to spur the sides

Of my intent! With her I'm free to weep,

With them, I still must laugh,—still be their ape,

To mop and mow and wake their shallow mirth.

True, I can sometimes bite, as monkeys do.

They'll make mirth of that, too! O courtly sirs!

Sweet-spoken, stalwart gallants! if you knew

The hate that rankles underneath my motley,

The scorn that barbs my wit, the bitterness

That grins behind my laughter, you would start

And shudder o'er your cups, and cross yourselves

As if the devil were in your company!

Once my revenge achieved, I'll spurn my chain,

Fool it no more, but give what's left of life

To thought of her I've lost, and love of her

That yet is left me. [Enter,, and , masked and cloaked.