It is not well to carry off Antonio
Ere we have heard the news from Rome.
Shall visit you again as soon as may be :
Then shall he entertain you, and your smiles
Help me to recompense his faithful service;
And when all that is properly performed,
I shall admit the public to these gardens,
And animate the shades and walks with groups
Of young and pretty subjects.
Your highness loves such picturesque additions.
I could retort upon thee if I would.
This half hour Tasso has been walking towards us;
Yet still he dallies, seems irresolute,
And cannot quite decide to come or go.
Wrapt in his dreams as usual!
TASSO, carrying a book covered with parchment.
Tasso. I come, half fearfully, to bring my work,
And hardly dare to place it in thy hand.
I know too well it yet is incomplete,
While I present it as a finished task;
But I know not when I should cease to feel
Faults that on each survey start up to vex me;
And better thus than tax your patience further.
I will not preface such a gift by aught;
I can but say, such as it is, 'tis yours.
This day shall be esteemed a festival,
Which places in my hand a gift so wished for,
I almost feared never to call it mine,
Fulfilling hopes too oft and long deferred;
Tasso. If you are satisfied, I must be so,
For I regard the work as yours in spirit.
The embodying, indeed, is mine; but all
Which gives my lay its worth and dignity
Takes rise from you. For if I were endowed
By Nature with the power to tell in song
The visitings of gentle Fancy, Fortune
Always refused to aid her sister's bounty;
The fire which flashed from the boy-poet's eye
Was often quenched with ineffectual tears,
Forced by his parents' undeserved distress;
And his lyre's sweetest tones could not alleviate
The sorrows of those dear ones: till thy grace
Sought out and drew me from this living grave
To liberty and light, wherein my soul
Her powers expanded, and gave forth a voice
Of love and courage. But for you this lay
Had never seen the light. Receive your work.
Be doubly honored for thy modesty.
Tasso. O, could I speak as I profoundly feel
My gratitude! My youth knew nought of arms;
Apart from action's busy scene I learned
From thee the varied forms of life. The wisdom
Of the commander, the heroic courage
Of youthful knighthood - if my lay could paint them,
'Tis from thy converse I have drawn their being.
Enough! Rejoice in the delight thou givest.
In the applause of all good minds.
Leon. Of all the world!
This moment gives reward and joy enough.
On you I thought whether I mused or wrote;
To give you pleasure was my constant wish,
My highest aim and hope. Who finds not
A world in his friends' hearts, can never merit
That the world hear his name. Why in this circle
My soul could live and find it wide enough;
Experience, wisdom, taste have forged the links
Which bind you to all after ages. What
Can crowds do for the artist? Mingled voices
Bewilder and confuse him. Only those
Who feel like you shall understand and judge me.
If in thy eyes we really represent
The present and the future world, we should not
Omit to give this thought some outward token :
The crown which even heroes must rejoice
To wreathe around the temples of the bard,
Without whom all their glory could not live,
Some genius must have placed upon the head
Of thy great ancestor for this occasion.
[Pointing to the bust of Virgil.
Methinks he says, "If you would truly venerate
The illustrious dead, do honor to the living,
As our contemporaries did to us.
My statue tells its tale, and needs no crown;
Bestow its living honors on the living.”
[ALPHONSO beckons his sister; she takes the crown
and approaches TASSO; he draws back.
Wilt thou refuse the imperishable crown
From such a hand?
Tasso. O, pardon me; such honor is not for me.
Soon shall the world pronounce it justly thine.
(Holding up the crown.)
pleasure, Tasso,
Wilt thou deny me the rare
Without a word to tell thee what I think?
The precious burden from that dearest hand
My head, though weak, shall not decline.
[Kneels down; she places it on his head.
Hail!
Thy first crown becomes thee well.
Another shall be added at the Capitol.
And plaudits there shall tell thee what the lips
Of friendship can but whisper now.
From this unworthy head; my locks are singed,
And thought burned from my brain as by the
Of an o'erpowering sun. A feverish heat
Inflames my veins. Pardon! it is too much.
Rather shall it protect thy head when wandering
In Fame's domain, which lies so near the sun,
And yield a grateful shade.
Of such refreshment. Rather place it
Amid the farthest clouds, that life-long toils
May strive to such an aim.
He who early wins,
Best prizes this world's sweetest blessings. He
Obtaining early, ill endures the loss
Of that which long possessed seems part of life;
And he who would possess must still be ready.
And that requires a never-failing strength,
Which now deserts me. In this prosperous moment
My heart misses the courage which ne'er failed me
In rudest shocks of past adversity.
Yet once again, my princess, hear my prayer;
Remove the crown; it does, and must, oppress me.
If thou couldst humbly walk beneath the weight
Of Nature's richest, rarest gifts, thou wilt not
Sink under that of laurel garlands:
Content thee in our will. Even if we wished,
We could not take them from the brows they once
Have consecrated.
To that still grove where oft I mused in sorrow,
To meditate my happiness. There no eye
Can glance reproaches at my want of merit ;
And should some fountain give me back the image
Of one who sits 'neath heaven's blue canopy
Amid those lofty pillars, his brow crowned
And his eye fixed in thought, I shall but fancy
Elysium lies before mine eye. I ask,
Who is the happy one? Some bard or hero
From the bright by-gone day. Where are the others,
His comrades and inspirers? O, to see them
Bound in a circle by that strongest magnet
Which links the answering souls of bards and heroes!
Homer felt not himself; his true existence
Was in the contemplation of two heroes;
And Alexander welcomes in Elysium
With like embrace Achilles and his poet.
O, might I share such greeting!
Dost thou disdain the present?
Which elevates me to such rapturous thoughts.
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