ware
Of any feud existing, or any cause
Of quarrel between your lordship and himself,
Cannot accept the challenge.

Pol. It is most true--
All this is very true. When saw you, sir,
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 Castigilone.

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
Thereby, in heat of anger, to address
Some words most unaccountable, in writing,
To me, Castiglione; the bearer being
Baldazzar, Duke of Surrey. I am aware
Of nothing which might warrant thee in this thing,
Having given thee no offence. Ha!--am I right?
'Twas a mistake?--undoubtedly--we all
Do err at times.

Pol. Draw, villain, and prate no more!

Cas. Ha!--draw?--and villain? have at thee then at once,
Proud Earl! (draws.)

Pol. (drawing.) Thus to the expiatory tomb,
Untimely sepulchre, I do devote thee
In the name of Lalage!

Cas. (letting fall his sword and recoiling to the extremity of the
stage)

Of Lalage!
Hold off--thy sacred hand!--avaunt, I say!
Avaunt--I will no