And why is it but recently, I pray?

GARCERAN. Respect, I thought the wonted mate of love;
But love together with contempt, my lord--

KING. "Contempt" were far too hard a word; perhaps
An "unregard"--yet, nathless--marvelous!

GARCERAN. In sooth, the marvel is a little old,
For it began that day in Paradise
When God from Adam's rib created Eve.

KING. And yet he closed the breast when it was done,
And placed the will to guard the entering in.
Thou may'st to camp, but not alone:--with me.

RACHEL (_sitting up_).

The sun is creeping into my retreat.
Who props for me the curtain on yon side?

(_Looking off stage at the right._)

There go two men, both bearing heavy arms;
The lance would serve my purpose very well.

(_Calling off stage._)

Come here! This way! What, are ye deaf?
Come quick!

[_The servant, returning with the lance and helmet, accompanied by a
second servant bearing the King's shield and cuirass, enters._]

RACHEL. Give me your lance, good man, and stick the point
Here in the ground, and then the roof will be
Held up in that direction. Thus it throws
A broader shadow. Quickly, now! That's right!
You other fellow, like a snail, you bear
Your house upon your back, unless, perhaps,
A house for some one else. Show me the shield!
A mirror 'tis, in sooth! 'Tis crude, of course,
As all is, here, but in a pinch 'twill do.

(_They hold the shield before her._)

One brings one's hair in order, pushes back
Whatever may have ventured all too far,
And praises God who made one passing fair.
This mirror's curve distorts me! Heaven help!
What puffy cheeks are these? No, no, my friend,
What roundness nature gives us, satisfies.--
And now the helmet--useless in a fight,
For it conceals what oft'nest wins--the eyes;
But quite adapted to the strife of love.
Put me the helm upon my head.--You hurt!--
And if one's love rebels and shows his pride,
Down with the visor!

(_Letting it down._)

He in darkness stands!
But should he