书城公版The Hunchback
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第10章 SCENE III.--The Street

[Enter CLIFFORD and STEPHEN, meeting.]

Ste. Letters, Sir Thomas.

Clif. Take them home again, I shall not read them now.

Ste. Your pardon, sir, But here is one directed strangely.

Clif. How?

Ste. "To Master Clifford, gentleman, now styled Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet."Clif. Indeed!

Whence comes that letter?

Ste. From abroad.

Clif. Which is it?

Ste. So please you, this, Sir Thomas.

Clif. Give it me.

Ste. That letter brings not news to wish him joy upon. If he was disturbed before, which I guessed by his looks he was, he is not more at ease now. His hand to his head! A most unwelcome letter!

If it brings him news of disaster, fortune does not give him his deserts; for never waited servant upon a kinder master.

Clif. Stephen!

Ste. Sir Thomas!

Clif. From my door remove The plate that bears my name.

Ste. The plate, Sir Thomas!

Clif. The plate--collect my servants and instruct them To make out each their claims, unto the end Of their respective terms, and give them in To my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow, That I keep house no more. As you go home, Call at my coachmaker's and bid him stop The carriage I bespoke. The one I have Send with my horses to the mart whereat Such things are sold by auction. They're for sale;Pack up my wardrobe, have my trunks conveyed To the inn in the next street; and when that's done, Go round my tradesmen and collect their bills, And bring them to me at the inn.

Ste. The inn!

Clif. Yes; I go home no more. Why, what's the matter?

What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up?

You'll get another place. I'll certify You're honest and industrious, and all That a servant ought to be.

Ste. I see, Sir Thomas, Some great misfortune has befallen you?

Clif. No!

I have health; I have strength; my reason, Stephen, and A heart that's clear in truth, with trust in God.

No great disaster can befall the man Who's still possessed of these! Good fellow, leave me.

What you would learn, and have a right to know, I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, hence!

Mischance has fallen on me--but what of that?

Mischance has fallen on many a better man.

I prithee leave me. I grow sadder while I see the eye with which you view my grief.

'Sdeath, they will out! I would have been a man, Had you been less a kind and gentle one.

Now, as you love me, leave me.

Ste. Never master So well deserved the love of him that served him.

[STEPHEN goes out.]

Clif. Misfortune liketh company; it seldom Visits its friends alone. Ha! Master Walter, And ruffled too. I'm in no mood for him.

[Enter MASTER WALTER.]

Wal. So, Sir--Sir Thomas Clifford! what with speed And choler--I do gasp for want of breath.

Clif. Well, Master Walter?

Wal. You're a rash young man, sir;

Strong-headed and wrong-headed, and I fear, sir, Not over delicate in that fine sense Which men of honour pride themselves upon!

Clif. Well, Master Walter?

Wal. A young woman's heart, sir, Is not a stone to carve a posy on!

Which knows not what is writ on't; which you may buy, Exchange, or sell, sir, keep or give away, sir:

It is a richer--yet a poorer thing;

Priceless to him that owns and prizes it;

Worthless, when owned, not prized; which makes the man That covets it, obtains it, and discards it -A fool, if not a villain, sir.

Clif. Well, sir?

Wal. You never loved my ward, sir!

Clif. The bright Heavens Bear witness that I did!

Wal. The bright Heavens, sir, Bear not false witness. That you loved her not Is clear--for had you loved her, you'd have plucked Your heart from out your breast, ere cast her from your heart!

Old as I am, I know what passion is.

It is the summer's heat, sir, which in vain We look for frost in. Ice, like you, sir, knows But little of such heat! We are wronged, sir, wronged!

You wear a sword, and so do I.

Clif. Well, sir!

Wal. You know the use, sir, of a sword?

Clif. I do.

To whip a knave, sir, or an honest man!

A wise man or a fool--atone for wrong, Or double the amount on't! Master Walter, Touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think On my side lies the grievance. I would not say so Did I not think so. As for love--look, sir, That hand's a widower's, to its first mate sworn To clasp no second one. As for amends, sir, You're free to get them from a man in whom You've been forestalled by fortune, for the spite Which she has vented on him, if you still Esteem him worth your anger. Please you read That letter. Now, sir, judge if life is dear To one so much a loser.

Wal. What, all gone!

Thy cousin living they reported dead!

Clif. Title and land, sir, unto which add love!

All gone, save life and honour, which, ere I'll lose, I'll let the other go.

Wal. We're public here, And may be interrupted. Let us seek Some spot of privacy. Your letter, sir.

[Gives it back.]

Though fortune slights you, I'll not slight you; not Your title or the lack of it I heed.

Whether upon the score of love or hate, With you and you alone I settle, sir.

We've gone too far. 'Twere folly now to part Without a reckoning.

Clif. Just as you please.

Wal. You've done A noble lady wrong.

Clif. That lady, sir, Has done me wrong.

Wal. Go to, thou art a boy Fit to be trusted with a plaything, not A woman's heart. Thou knowest not what it is!

And that I'll prove to thee, soon as we find Convenient place. Come on, sir! you shall get A lesson that shall serve you for the rest Of your life. I'll make you own her, sir, a piece Of Nature's handiwork, as costly, free From bias, flaw, and fair, as ever yet Her cunning hand turned out. Come on, sir! come!

[They go out.]