Scene III. the Same.

[Enter Praetoria.]
Praetoria. Here by this iron suit I’ll stand until
Constantine comes near at hand.
[Enter Constantine.]
Constantine. Where are Eduard and Debrushka?
I left them not but five minutes ago
standing guard over this gleaming hulk 5
of armor.
Praetoria. I may have seen them exit stage left, down
the August Hall and into the garden,
holding hands, with skipping hearts half
elevated above their rosy path. 10
Constantine. A fair way to occupy a sunny
spring afternoon.
Praetoria. No doubt.
Constantine. Nor doubly doubtful that also fair
it might be if you and I followed the 15
same path.
Praetoria. Is that a double negative or a
double entendre?
[Enter Raoul.]
Constantine. An addled brain, sweet lady.
Raoul. Hello, future niece-in-law, and you dear 20
Constantine. Here, young sir, may I have a
word with you? I hope that you have noticed
the tailor’s daughter, Debrushka? She is
indeed a rare and wonderful flower,
beauty and grace in both her face and her 25
wit. She will make someone a very fine
and worthy scholar’s wife.
Constantine. She will, indeed, sir. And so will Praetoria.
Raoul. I agree!
Praetoria. The garden, then, Constantine? 30
[Exeunt Constantine and Praetoria.]
Raoul. But wouldn’t it be better if Constantine
showed Debrushka my garden? And Eduard
showed Praetoria?
[Enter Horatio and Eunomia.]
Horatio. Good evening, brother. Have you much news
to report? By your puzzlement I fear 35
the quest went unfulfilled.
Raoul. No, no, no. The witch Grutilda is no
longer with us. In pall of smoke and fire’s
flame she has gone to other regions.
Horatio. Then why this frown, this furrowed face, this look 40
of failure haunting your eyes?
Raoul. I have moved on from witch-hunting
to match-making.
Eunomia. A ticklish business, dear.
Raoul. I fear that I have graft together buds 45
from the wrong trestle. Stand away
from the window until I can trim this
unwanted growth before it full flowers.
Horatio. Means you this vignette, that Constantine and
Praetoria sit close, and quietly, 50
beneath the willow tree.
Raoul. Well, that, yes. But farther down the lane.
Eunomia. ‘Tis only Eduard and Debrushka,
holding hands as they face each other with gaze
transfixed, as lovers are want to do. 55
Raoul. What a mess. I simply tried to acquaint
young Constantine with the tailor’s daughter,
but Cupid’s arrow has gone awry.
Or, as if Grutilda’s spell,
half cast and missing its mark, dear sister, 60
upon the witch’s departure ricocheted,
twisting off-kilter that pure beam of love
leaving half magic, a skewed image,
an upside down and mirrored reflection
of our intent. 65
Eunomia. Or perhaps, Raoul, this window reveals
an upright truth that heretofore had been
hidden by unrealistic desires.
Horatio. Praetoria’s father, our most faithful
Parkerson, earlier today let go 70
a hint to what we now observe.
Raoul. And so I see the match I struck reveals
young hearts already sparked and
secretly burning on their own.
Horatio. Hang up the match-making, brother. It’s not 75
for amateurs. Join we now these lovers
and express our happy pleasure that this
revelation came not too late.
[Exeunt.]