ACT II
SCENE.—Interior of the Temple of Artemis. Small gold gates onplatform in front of the veil before the colossal statue of theGoddess, and in the centre of the Temple a tripod altar, on which is alighted lamp. Lamps (lighted) suspended between each pillar. Tripods,vases, garlands of flowers, etc., about stage. Altar at back close toGoddess, with two cups. Solemn music. Priestesses decorating theTemple.
(The Chorus ofPRIESTESSESsing as they enter.)Artemis, Artemis, hear us, O Mother, hear us, and bless us!Artemis, thou that art life to the wind, to the wave, to the glebe,to the fire!Hear thy people who praise thee! O help us from all that oppress us!Hear thy priestesses hymn thy glory! O yield them all their desire!PRIESTESS.Phoebe, that man from Synorix, who has beenSo oft to see the Priestess, waits once moreBefore the Temple.PHOEBE.We will let her know.[Signs to one of the Priestesses, who goes out.Since Camma fled from Synorix to our Temple,And for her beauty, stateliness, and power,Was chosen Priestess here, have you not mark'dHer eyes were ever on the marble floor?To-day they are fixt and bright—they look straight out.Hath she made up her mind to marry him?PRIESTESS.To marry him who stabb'd her Sinnatus.You will not easily make me credit that.PHOEBE.Ask her.EnterCAMMAas Priestess (in front of the curtains).PRIESTESS.You will not marry Synorix?CAMMA.My girl, I am the bride of Death, and onlyMarry the dead.PRIESTESS.Not Synorix then?CAMMA.My girl,At times this oracle of great ArtemisHas no more power than other oraclesTo speak directly.PHOEBE.Will you speak to him,The messenger from Synorix who waitsBefore the Temple?CAMMA.Why not? Let him enter.[Comes forward on to step by tripod.Enter aMESSENGER.MESSENGER (kneels).Greeting and health from Synorix! More than onceYou have refused his hand. When last I saw you,You all but yielded. He entreats you nowFor your last answer. When he struck at Sinnatus—As I have many a time declared to you—He knew not at the moment who had fasten'dAbout his throat—he begs you to forget it.As scarce his act:—a random stroke: all elseWas love for you: he prays you to believe him.CAMMA.I pray him to believe—that I believe him.MESSENGER.Why that is well. You mean to marry him?CAMMA.I mean to marry him—if that be well.MESSENGER.This very day the Romans crown him kingFor all his faithful services to Rome.He wills you then this day to marry him,And so be throned together in the sightOf all the people, that the world may knowYou twain are reconciled, and no more feudsDisturb our peaceful vassalage to Rome.CAMMA.To-day? Too sudden. I will brood upon it.When do they crown him?MESSENGER.Even now.CAMMA.And where?MESSENGER.Here by your temple.CAMMA.Come once more to meBefore the crowning,—I will answer you.[Exit Messenger.PHOEBE.Great Artemis! O Camma, can it be well,Or good, or wise, that you should clasp a handRed with the sacred blood of Sinnatus?CAMMA.Good! mine own dagger driven by Synorix foundAll good in the true heart of Sinnatus,And quench'd it there for ever. Wise!Life yields to death and wisdom bows to Fate,Is wisest, doing so. Did not this manSpeak well? We cannot fight imperial Rome,But he and I are both Galatian-born,And tributary sovereigns, he and IMight teach this Rome—from knowledge of our people—Where to lay on her tribute—heavily hereAnd lightly there. Might I not live for that,And drown all poor self-passion in the senseOf public good?PHOEBE.I am sure you will not marry him.CAMMA.Are you so sure? I pray you wait and see.[Shouts (from the distance), 'Synorix! Synorix!'CAMMA.Synorix, Synorix! So they cried SinnatusNot so long since—they sicken me. The OneWho shifts his policy suffers something, mustAccuse himself, excuse himself; the ManyWill feel no shame to give themselves the lie.PHOEBE.Most like it was the Roman soldier shouted.CAMMA.Their shield-borne patriot of the morning starHang'd at mid-day, their traitor of the dawnThe clamour'd darling of their afternoon!And that same head they would have play'd at ball withAnd kick'd it featureless—they now would crown.[Flourish of trumpets.Enter a GalatianNOBLEMANwith crown on a cushion.NOBLE (kneels).Greeting and health from Synorix. He sends youThis diadem of the first Galatian Queen,That you may feed your fancy on the glory of it,And join your life this day with his, and wear itBeside him on his throne. He waits your answer.CAMMA.Tell him there is one shadow among the shadows,One ghost of all the ghosts—as yet so new,So strange among them—such an alien there,So much of husband in it still—that ifThe shout of Synorix and Camma sittingUpon one throne, should reach it,itwould riseHe!... HE, with that red star between the ribs,And my knife there—and blast the king and me,And blanch the crowd with horror. I dare not, sir!Throne him—and then the marriage—ay and tell himThat I accept the diadem of Galatia—[All are amazed.Yea, that ye saw me crown myself withal.[Puts on the crown.I wait him his crown'd queen.NOBLE.So will I tell him.[Exit.Music. Two Priestesses go up the steps before the shrine, draw thecurtains on either side (discovering the Goddess), then open the gatesand remain on steps, one on either side, and kneel. A priestess goesoff and returns with a veil of marriage, then assists Phoebe to veilCamma. At the same time Priestesses enter and stand on either side ofthe Temple. Camma and all the Priestesses kneel, raise their hands tothe Goddess, and bow down.[Shouts, 'Synorix! Synorix!'All rise.CAMMA.Fling wide the doors, and let the new-made childrenOf our imperial mother see the show.[Sunlight pours through the doors.I have no heart to do it. (To Phoebe). Look for me![Crouches. PHOEBElooks out.[Shouts, 'Synorix! Synorix!'PHOEBE.He climbs the throne. Hot blood, ambition, prideSo bloat and redden his face—O would it wereHis third last apoplexy! O bestial!O how unlike our goodly Sinnatus.CAMMA (on the ground).You wrong him surely; far as the face goesA goodlier-looking man than Sinnatus.PHOEBE (aside).How dare she say it? I could hate her for itBut that she is distracted. [A flourish of trumpets.CAMMA.Is he crown'd?PHOEBE.Ay, there they crown him.[Crowd without shout, 'Synorix! Synorix!'[A Priestess brings a box of spices toCAMMA,who throws them on the altar-flame.CAMMA.Rouse the dead altar-flame, fling in the spices,Nard, Cinnamon, amomum, benzoin.Let all the air reel into a mist of odour,As in the midmost heart of Paradise.Lay down the Lydian carpets for the king.The king should pace on purple to his bride,And music there to greet my lord the king. [Music.(To Phoebe). Dost thou remember when I wedded Sinnatus?Ay, thou wast there—whether from maiden fearsOr reverential love for him I loved,Or some strange second-sight, the marriage cupWherefrom we make libation to the GoddessSo shook within my hand, that the red wineRan down the marble and lookt like blood, like blood.PHOEBE.I do remember your first-marriage fears.CAMMA.I have no fears at this my second marriage.See here—I stretch my hand out—hold it there.How steady it is!PHOEBE.Steady enough to stab him!CAMMA.O hush! O peace! This violence ill becomesThe silence of our Temple. Gentleness,Low words best chime with this solemnity.Enter a procession of Priestesses and Children bearinggarlands and golden goblets, and strewing flowers.EnterSYNORIX (as King, with gold laurel-wreath crownand purple robes), followed byANTONIUS, PUBLIUS,Noblemen, Guards, and the Populace.CAMMA.Hail, King!SYNORIX.Hail, Queen!The wheel of Fate has roll'd me to the top.I would that happiness were gold, that IMight cast my largess of it to the crowd!I would that every man made feast to-dayBeneath the shadow of our pines and planes!For all my truer life begins to-day.The past is like a travell'd land now sunkBelow the horizon—like a barren shoreThat grew salt weeds, but now all drown'd in loveAnd glittering at full tide—the bounteous baysAnd havens filling with a blissful sea.Nor speak I now too mightily, being KingAnd happy! happiest, Lady, in my powerTo make you happy.CAMMA.Yes, sir.SYNORIX.Our Antonius,Our faithful friend of Rome, tho' Rome may setA free foot where she will, yet of his courtesyEntreats he may be present at our marriage.CAMMA.Let him come—a legion with him, if he will.(ToANTONIUS.) Welcome, my lord Antonius, to our Temple.(ToSYNORIX.) You on this side the altar.(ToANTONIUS.) You on that.Call first upon the Goddess, Synorix.[All face the Goddess. Priestesses, Children, Populace,and Guards kneel—the others remain standing.SYNORIX.O Thou, that dost inspire the germ with life,The child, a thread within the house of birth,And give him limbs, then air, and send him forthThe glory of his father—Thou whose breathIs balmy wind to robe our hills with grass,And kindle all our vales with myrtle-blossom,And roll the golden oceans of our grain,And sway the long grape-bunches of our vines,And fill all hearts with fatness and the lustOf plenty—make me happy in my marriage!CHORUS (chanting).Artemis, Artemis, hear him, Ionian Artemis!CAMMA.O Thou that slayest the babe within the wombOr in the being born, or after slayest himAs boy or man, great Goddess, whose storm-voiceUnsockets the strong oak, and rears his rootBeyond his head, and strows our fruits, and laysOur golden grain, and runs to sea and makes itFoam over all the fleeted wealth of kingsAnd peoples, hear.Whose arrow is the plague—whose quick flash splitsThe mid-sea mast, and rifts the tower to the rock,And hurls the victor's column down with himThat crowns it, hear.Who causest the safe earth to shudder and gape,And gulf and flatten in her closing chasmDomed cities, hear.Whose lava-torrents blast and blacken a provinceTo a cinder, hear.Whose winter-cataracts find a realm and leave itA waste of rock and ruin, hear. I call theeTo make my marriage prosper to my wish!CHORUS.Artemis, Artemis, hear her, Ephesian Artemis!CAMMA.Artemis, Artemis, hear me, Galatian Artemis!I call on our own Goddess in our own Temple.CHORUS.Artemis, Artemis, hear her, Galatian Artemis![Thunder. All rise.SYNORIX (aside).Thunder! Ay, ay, the storm was drawing hitherAcross the hills when I was being crown'd.I wonder if I look as pale as she?CAMMA.Art thou—still bent—on marrying?SYNORIX.Surely—yetThese are strange words to speak to Artemis.CAMMA.Words are not always what they seem, my King.I will be faithful to thee till thou die.SYNORIX.I thank thee, Camma,—I thank thee.CAMMA (turning toANTONIUS).Antonius,Much graced are we that our Queen Rome in youDeigns to look in upon our barbarisms.[Turns, goes up steps to altar before the Goddess.Takes a cup from off the altar. Holds it towardsANTONIUS. ANTONIUSgoes up to the foot of thesteps, opposite toSYNORIX.You see this cup, my lord. [Gives it to him.ANTONIUS.Most curious!The many-breasted mother ArtemisEmboss'd upon it.CAMMA.It is old, I know notHow many hundred years. Give it me again.It is the cup belonging our own Temple.[Puts it back on altar, and takes up the cupof Act I. Showing it toANTONIUS.Here is another sacred to the Goddess,The gift of Synorix; and the Goddess, beingFor this most grateful, wills, thro' me her Priestess,In honour of his gift and of our marriage,That Synorix should drink from his own cup.SYNORIX.I thank thee, Camma,—I thank thee.CAMMA.For—my lord—It is our ancient custom in GalatiaThat ere two souls be knit for life and death,They two should drink together from one cup,In symbol of their married unity,Making libation to the Goddess. Bring meThe costly wines we use in marriages.[They bring in a large jar of wine.CAMMApours wine into cup.(ToSYNORIX.) See here, I fill it.(ToANTONIUS.) Will you drink, my lord?ANTONIUS.I? Why should I? I am not to be married.CAMMA.But that might bring a Roman blessing on us.ANTONIUS (refusing cup).Thy pardon, Priestess!CAMMA.Thou art in the right.This blessing is for Synorix and for me.See first I make libation to the Goddess,[Makes libation.And now I drink. [Drinks and fills the cup again.Thy turn, Galatian King.Drink and drink deep—our marriage will be fruitful.Drink and drink deep, and thou wilt make me happy.[SYNORIXgoes up to her. She hands him the cup. He drinks.SYNORIX.There, Gamma! I have almost drain'd the cup—A few drops left.CAMMA.Libation to the Goddess.[He throws the remaining drops on the altarand givesCAMMAthe cup.CAMMA (placing the cup on the altar).Why then the Goddess hears.[Comes down and forward to tripod. ANTONIUSfollows.Antonius,Where wast thou on that morning when I cameTo plead to thee for Sinnatus's life,Beside this temple half a year ago?ANTONIUS.I never heard of this request of thine.SYNORIX (coming forward hastily to foot of tripod steps).I sought him and I could not find him. Pray you,Go on with the marriage rites.CAMMA.Antonius——'Camma!' who spake?ANTONIUS.Not I.PHOEBE.Nor any here.CAMMA.I am all but sure that some one spake. Antonius,If you had found him plotting against Rome,Would you have tortured Sinnatus to death?ANTONIUS.No thought was mine of torture or of death,But had I found him plotting, I had counsell'd himTo rest from vain resistance. Rome is fatedTo rule the world. Then, if he had not listen'd,I might have sent him prisoner to Rome.SYNORIX.Why do you palter with the ceremony?Go on with the marriage rites.CAMMA.They are finish'd.SYNORIX.How!CAMMA.Thou hast drunk deep enough to make me happy.Dost thou not feel the love I bear to theeGlow thro' thy veins?SYNORIX.The love I bear to theeGlows thro' my veins since first I look'd on thee.But wherefore slur the perfect ceremony?The sovereign of Galatia weds his Queen.Let all be done to the fullest in the sightOf all the Gods.Nay, rather than so clipThe flowery robe of Hymen, we would addSome golden fringe of gorgeousness beyondOld use, to make the day memorial, whenSynorix, first King, Camma, first Queen o' the Realm,Drew here the richest lot from Fate, to liveAnd die together.This pain—what is it?—again?I had a touch of this last year—in—Rome.Yes, yes. (ToANTONIUS.) Your arm—a moment—It will pass.I reel beneath the weight of utter joy—This all too happy day, crown—queen at once.[Staggers.O all ye Gods—Jupiter!—Jupiter! [Falls backward.CAMMA.Dost thou cry out upon the Gods of Rome?Thou art Galatian-born. Our ArtemisHas vanquish'd their Diana.SYNORIX (on the ground).I am poison'd.She—close the Temple door. Let her not fly.CAMMA (leaning on tripod).Have I not drunk of the same cup with thee?SYNORIX.Ay, by the Gods of Rome and all the world,She too—she too—the bride! the Queen! and I—Monstrous! I that loved her.CAMMA.I lovedhim.SYNORIX.O murderous mad-woman! I pray you lift meAnd make me walk awhile. I have heard these poisonsMay be walk'd down.[ANTONIUSandPUBLIUSraise him up.My feet are tons of lead,They will break in the earth—I am sinking—hold me—Let me alone.[They leave him; he sinks down on ground.Too late—thought myself wise—A woman's dupe. Antonius, tell the SenateI have been most true to Rome—would have been trueToher—if—if—— [Falls as if dead.CAMMA (coming and leaning over him).So falls the throne of an hour.SYNORIX (half rising).Throne? is it thou? the Fates are throned, not we—Not guilty of ourselves—thy doom and mine—Thou—coming my way too—Camma—good-night.[Dies.CAMMA (upheld by weeping Priestesses).Thy way? poor worm, crawl down thine own black holeTo the lowest Hell. Antonius, is he there?I meant thee to have follow'd—better thus.Nay, if my people must be thralls of Rome,He is gentle, tho' a Roman.[Sinks back into the arms of the Priestesses.ANTONIUS.Thou art oneWith thine own people, and tho' a Roman IForgive thee, Camma.CAMMA (raising herself).'CAMMA!'—why there againI am most sure that some one call'd. O women,Ye will have Roman masters. I am gladI shall not see it. Did not some old GreekSay death was the chief good? He had my fate for it,Poison'd. (Sinks back again.) Have I the crown on? I will goTo meet him, crown'd! crown'd victor of my will—On my last voyage—but the wind has fail'd—Growing dark too—but light enough to row.Row to the blessed Isles! the blessed Isles!—Sinnatus!Why comes he not to meet me? It is the crownOffends him—and my hands are too sleepyTo lift it off. [PHOEBEtakes the crown off.Who touch'd me then? I thank you.[Rises, with outspread arms.There—league on league of ever-shining shoreBeneath an ever-rising sun—I see him—'Camma, Camma!' Sinnatus, Sinnatus! [Dies.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.The Count Federigo Degli Alberighi.Filippo,Count's foster-brother.The lady Giovanna.Elisabetta,the Count's nurse.
THE FALCON
SCENE.—An Italian Cottage. Castle and Mountains seen throughWindow.Elisabetta discovered seated on stool in window darning. The Countwith Falcon on his hand comes down through the door at back. Awithered wreath on the wall.
ELISABETTA.So, my lord, the Lady Giovanna, who hath been away so long, came backlast night with her son to the castle.COUNT.Hear that, my bird! Art thou not jealous of her?My princess of the cloud, my plumed purveyor,My far-eyed queen of the winds—thou that canst soarBeyond the morning lark, and howsoe'erThy quarry wind and wheel, swoop down upon himEagle-like, lightning-like—strike, make his feathersGlance in mid heaven. [Crosses to chair.I would thou hadst a mate!Thy breed will die with thee, and mine with me:I am as lone and loveless as thyself. [Sits in chair.Giovanna here! Ay, ruffle thyself—bejealous!Thou should'st be jealous of her. Tho' I bred theeThe full-train'd marvel of all falconry,And love thee and thou me, yet if GiovannaBe here again—No, no! Buss me, my bird!The stately widow has no heart for me.Thou art the last friend left me upon earth—No, no again to that. [Rises and turns.My good old nurse,I had forgotten thou wast sitting there.ELISABETTA.Ay, and forgotten thy foster-brother too.COUNT.Bird-babble for my falcon! Let it pass.What art thou doing there?ELISABETTA.Darning your lordship.We cannot flaunt it in new feathers now:Nay, if wewillbuy diamond necklacesTo please our lady, we must darn, my lord.This old thing here (points to necklace round her neck),they are but blue beads—my Piero,God rest his honest soul, he bought 'em for me,Ay, but he knew I meant to marry him.How couldst thou do it, my son? How couldst thou do it?COUNT.She saw it at a dance, upon a neckLess lovely than her own, and long'd for it.ELISABETTA.She told thee as much?COUNT.No, no—a friend of hers.ELISABETTA.Shame on her that she took it at thy hands,She rich enough to have bought it for herself!COUNT.She would have robb'd me then of a great pleasure.ELISABETTA.But hath she yet return'd thy love?COUNT.Not yet!ELISABETTA.She should return thy necklace then.COUNT.Ay, ifShe knew the giver; but I bound the sellerTo silence, and I left it privilyAt Florence, in her palace.ELISABETTA.And sold thine ownTo buy it for her. She not know? She knowsThere's none such other——COUNT.Madman anywhere.Speak freely, tho' to call a madman madWill hardly help to make him sane again.EnterFILIPPO.FILIPPO.Ah, the women, the women! Ah, Monna Giovanna, you here again! you thathave the face of an angel and the heart of a—that's too positive! Youthat have a score of lovers and have not a heart for any of them—that's positive-negative: you that havenotthe head of a toad, andnota heart like the jewel in it—that's too negative; you that havea cheek like a peach and a heart like the stone in it—that's positiveagain—that's better!ELISABETTA.Sh—sh—Filippo!FILIPPO (turns half round).Here has our master been a-glorifying and a-velveting and a-silkinghimself, and a-peacocking and a-spreading to catch her eye for a dozenyear, till he hasn't an eye left in his own tail to flourish among thepeahens, and all along o' you, Monna Giovanna, all along o' you!ELISABETTA.Sh—sh—Filippo! Can't you hear that you are saying behind his backwhat you see you are saying afore his face?COUNT.Let him—he never spares me to my face!FILIPPO.No, my lord, I never spare your lordship to your lordship's face, norbehind your lordship's back, nor to right, nor to left, nor to roundabout and back to your lordship's face again, for I'm honest, yourlordship.COUNT.Come, come, Filippo, what is there in the larder?[ELISABETTAcrosses to fireplace and puts on wood.FILIPPO.Shelves and hooks, shelves and hooks, and when I see the shelves I amlike to hang myself on the hooks.COUNT.No bread?FILIPPO.Half a breakfast for a rat!COUNT,Milk?FILIPPO.Three laps for a cat!COUNT.Cheese?FILIPPO.A supper for twelve mites.COUNT.Eggs?FILIPPO.One, but addled.COUNT.No bird?FILIPPO.Half a tit and a hern's bill.COUNT.Let be thy jokes and thy jerks, man! Anything or nothing?FILIPPO.Well, my lord, if all-but-nothing be anything, and one plate of driedprunes be all-but-nothing, then there is anything in your lordship'slarder at your lordship's service, if your lordship care to call forit.COUNT.Good mother, happy was the prodigal son,For he return'd to the rich father; IBut add my poverty to thine. And allThro' following of my fancy. Pray thee makeThy slender meal out of those scraps and shredsFilippo spoke of. As for him and me,There sprouts a salad in the garden still.(To the Falcon?) Why didst thou miss thy quarry yester-even?To-day, my beauty, thou must dash us downOur dinner from the skies. Away, Filippo![Exit, followed byFILIPPO.ELISABETTA.I knew it would come to this. She has beggared him. I always knew itwould come to this! (Goes up to table as if to resume darning, andlooks out of window.) Why, as I live, there is Monna Giovanna comingdown the hill from the castle. Stops and stares at our cottage. Ay,ay! stare at it: it's all you have left us. Shame upon you! Shebeautiful! sleek as a miller's mouse! Meal enough, meat enough, wellfed; but beautiful—bah! Nay, see, why she turns down the paththrough our little vineyard, and I sneezed three times this morning.Coming to visit my lord, for the first time in her life too! Why,bless the saints! I'll be bound to confess her love to him at last. Iforgive her, I forgive her! I knew it would come to this—I alwaysknew it must come to this! (Going up to door during latter part ofspeech and opens it.) Come in, Madonna, come in. (Retires to frontof table and curtseys as theLADY GIOVANNAenters, then moves chairtowards the hearth.) Nay, let me place this chair for your ladyship.[LADY GIOVANNAmoves slowly down stage, then crossesto chair, looking about her, bows as she sees theMadonna over fireplace, then sits in chair.LADY GIOVANNA.Can I speak with the Count?ELISABETTA.Ay, my lady, but won't you speak with the old woman first, and tellher all about it and make her happy? for I've been on my knees everyday for these half-dozen years in hope that the saints would send usthis blessed morning; and he always took you so kindly, he always tookthe world so kindly. When he was a little one, and I put the bitterson my breast to wean him, he made a wry mouth at it, but he took it sokindly, and your ladyship has given him bitters enough in this world,and he never made a wry mouth at you, he always took you so kindly—which is more than I did, my lady, more than I did—and he sohandsome—and bless your sweet face, you look as beautiful thismorning as the very Madonna her own self—and better late than never—but come when they will—then or now—it's all for the best, come whenthey will—they are made by the blessed saints—these marriages.[Raises her hands.LADY GIOVANNA.Marriages? I shall never marry again!ELISABETTA (rises and turns).Shame on her then!LADY GIOVANNA.Where is the Count?ELISABETTA.Just goneTo fly his falcon.LADY GIOVANNA.Call him back and sayI come to breakfast with him.ELISABETTA.Holy mother!To breakfast! Oh sweet saints! one plate of prunes!Well, Madam, I will give your message to him.[Exit.LADY GIOVANNA.His falcon, and I come to ask for his falcon,The pleasure of his eyes—boast of his hand—Pride of his heart—the solace of his hours—His one companion here—nay, I have heardThat, thro' his late magnificence of livingAnd this last costly gift to mine own self,[Shows diamond necklace.He hath become so beggar'd, that his falconEv'n wins his dinner for him in the field.That must be talk, not truth, but truth or talk,How can I ask for his falcon?[Rises and moves as she speaks.O my sick boy!My daily fading Florio, it is thouHath set me this hard task, for when I sayWhat can I do—what can I get for thee?He answers, 'Get the Count to give me his falcon,And that will make me well.' Yet if I ask,He loves me, and he knows I know he loves me!Will he not pray me to return his love—To marry him?—(pause)—I can never marry him.His grandsire struck my grandsire in a brawlAt Florence, and my grandsire stabb'd him there.The feud between our houses is the barI cannot cross; I dare not brave my brother,Break with my kin. My brother hates him, scornsThe noblest-natured man alive, and I—Who have that reverence for him that I scarceDare beg him to receive his diamonds back—How can I, dare I, ask him for his falcon?[Puts diamonds in her casket.Re-enterCOUNTandFILIPPO. COUNTturns toFILIPPO.COUNT.Do what I said; I cannot do it myself.FILIPPO.Why then, my lord, we are pauper'd out and out.COUNT.Do what I said! [Advances and bows low.Welcome to this poor cottage, my dear lady.LADY GIOVANNA.And welcome turns a cottage to a palace.COUNT.'Tis long since we have met!LADY GIOVANNA.To make amendsI come this day to break my fast with you.COUNT.I am much honour'd—yes— [Turns toFILIPPO.Do what I told thee. Must I do it myself?FlLIPPO.I will, I will. (Sighs.) Poor fellow![Exit.COUNT.Lady, you bring your light into my cottageWho never deign'd to shine into my palace.My palace wanting you was but a cottage;My cottage, while you grace it, is a palace.LADY GIOVANNA.In cottage or in palace, being stillBeyond your fortunes, you are still the kingOf courtesy and liberality.COUNT.I trust I still maintain my courtesy;My liberality perforce is deadThro' lack of means of giving.LADY GIOVANNA.Yet I comeTo ask a gift. [Moves toward him a little.COUNT.It will be hard, I fear,To find one shock upon the field when allThe harvest has been carried.LADY GIOVANNA.But my boy—(Aside.) No, no! not yet—I cannot!COUNT.Ay, how is he,That bright inheritor of your eyes—your boy?LADY GIOVANNA.Alas, my Lord Federigo, he hath fallenInto a sickness, and it troubles me.COUNT.Sick! is it so? why, when he came last yearTo see me hawking, he was well enough:And then I taught him all our hawking-phrases.LADY GIOVANNA.Oh yes, and once you let him fly your falcon.COUNT.How charm'd he was! what wonder?—A gallant boy,A noble bird, each perfect of the breed.LADY GIOVANNA (sinks in chair).What do you rate her at?COUNT.My bird? a hundredGold pieces once were offer'd by the Duke.I had no heart to part with her for money.LADY GIOVANNA.No, not for money.[COUNTturns away and sighs.Wherefore do you sigh?COUNT.I have lost a friend of late.LADY GIOVANNA.I could sigh with youFor fear of losing more than friend, a son;And if he leave me—all the rest of life—That wither'd wreath were of more worth to me.[Looking at wreath on wall.COUNT.That wither'd wreath is of more worth to meThan all the blossom, all the leaf of thisNew-wakening year. [Goes and takes down wreath.LADY GIOVANNA.And yet I never sawThe land so rich in blossom as this year.COUNT (holding wreath toward her).Was not the year when this was gather'd richer?LADY GIOVANNA.How long ago was that?COUNT.Alas, ten summers!A lady that was beautiful as daySat by me at a rustic festivalWith other beauties on a mountain meadow,And she was the most beautiful of all;Then but fifteen, and still as beautiful.The mountain flowers grew thickly round about.I made a wreath with some of these; I ask'dA ribbon from her hair to bind it with;I whisper'd, Let me crown you Queen of Beauty,And softly placed the chaplet on her head.A colour, which has colour'd all my life,Flush'd in her face; then I was call'd away;And presently all rose, and so departed.Ah! she had thrown my chaplet on the grass,And there I found it.[Lets his hands fall, holding wreath despondingly.LADY GIOVANNA (after pause).How long since do you say?COUNT.That was the very year before you married.LADY GIOVANNA.When I was married you were at the wars.COUNT.Had she not thrown my chaplet on the grass,It may be I had never seen the wars.[Replaces wreath whence he had taken it.LADY GIOVANNA.Ah, but, my lord, there ran a rumour thenThat you were kill'd in battle. I can tell youTrue tears that year were shed for you in Florence.COUNT.It might have been as well for me. UnhappilyI was but wounded by the enemy thereAnd then imprison'd.LADY GIOVANNA.Happily, however,I see you quite recover'd of your wound.COUNT.No, no, not quite, Madonna, not yet, not yet.Re-enterFILIPPO.FILIPPO.My lord, a word with you.COUNT.Pray, pardon me![LADY GIOVANNAcrosses, and passes behind chair andtakes down wreath; then goes to chair by table.COUNT (toFILIPPO).What is it, Filippo?FILIPPO.Spoons, your lordship.COUNT.Spoons!FILIPPO.Yes, my lord, for wasn't my lady born with a golden spoon in herladyship's mouth, and we haven't never so much as a silver one for thegolden lips of her ladyship.COUNT.Have we not half a score of silver spoons?FILIPPO.Half o' one, my lord!COUNT.How half of one?FILIPPO.I trod upon him even now, my lord, in my hurry, and broke him.COUNT.And the other nine?FILIPPO.Sold! but shall I not mount with your lordship's leave to herladyship's castle, in your lordship's and her ladyship's name, andconfer with her ladyship's seneschal, and so descend again with someof her ladyship's own appurtenances?COUNT.Why—no, man. Only see your cloth be clean.[ExitFILIPPO.LADY GIOVANNA.Ay, ay, this faded ribbon was the modeIn Florence ten years back. What's here? a scrollPinned to the wreath.My lord, you have said so muchOf this poor wreath that I was bold enoughTo take it down, if but to guess what flowersHad made it; and I find a written scrollThat seems to run in rhymings. Might I read?COUNT.Ay, if you will.LADY GIOVANNA.It should be if you can.(Reads.) 'Dead mountain.' Nay, for who could trace a handSo wild and staggering?COUNT.This was penn'd, Madonna,Close to the grating on a winter mornIn the perpetual twilight of a prison,When he that made it, having his right handLamed in the battle, wrote it with his left.LADY GIOVANNA.O heavens! the very letters seem to shakeWith cold, with pain perhaps, poor prisoner! Well,Tell me the words—or better—for I seeThere goes a musical score along with them,Repeat them to their music.COUNT.You can touchNo chord in me that would not answer youIn music.LADY GIOVANNA.That is musically said.[COUNTtakes guitar. LADY GIOVANNAsits listeningwith wreath in her hand, and quietly removesscroll and places it on table at the end of the song.COUNT (sings, playing guitar).'Dead mountain flowers, dead mountain-meadow flowers,Dearer than when you made your mountain gay,Sweeter than any violet of to-day,Richer than all the wide world-wealth of May,To me, tho' all your bloom has died away,You bloom again, dead mountain-meadow flowers.'EnterELISABETTAwith cloth.ELISABETTA.A word with you, my lord!COUNT (singing).'O mountain flowers!'ELISABETTA.A word, my lord! (Louder).COUNT (sings).'Dead flowers!'ELISABETTA.A word, my lord! (Louder).COUNT.I pray you pardon me again![LADY GIOVANNAlooking at wreath.(COUNTtoELISABETTA.)What is it?ELISABETTA.My lord, we have but one piece of earthenware toserve the salad in to my lady, and that cracked!COUNT.Why then, that flower'd bowl my ancestorFetch'd from the farthest east—we never use itFor fear of breakage—but this day has broughtA great occasion. You can take it, nurse!ELISABETTA.I did take it, my lord, but what with my lady'scoming that had so flurried me, and what with thefear of breaking it, I did break it, my lord: it isbroken!COUNT.My one thing left of value in the world!No matter! see your cloth be white as snow!ELISABETTA (pointing thro' window).White? I warrant thee, my son, as the snow yonderon the very tip-top o' the mountain.COUNT.And yet to speak white truth, my good old mother,I have seen it like the snow on the moraine.ELISABETTA:How can your lordship say so? There my lord![Lays cloth.O my dear son, be not unkind to me.And one word more. [Going—returns.COUNT (touching guitar).Good! let it be but one.ELISABETTA.Hath she return'd thy love?COUNT.Not yet!ELISABETTA.And will she?COUNT (looking atLADY GIOVANNA).I scarce believe it!ELISABETTA.Shame upon her then! [Exit.COUNT (sings).'Dead mountain flowers'——Ah well, my nurse has brokenThe thread of my dead flowers, as she has brokenMy china bowl. My memory is as dead.[Goes and replaces guitar.Strange that the words at home with me so longShould fly like bosom friends when needed most.So by your leave if you would hear the rest,The writing.LADY GIOVANNA (holding wreath toward him).There! my lord, you are a poet,And can you not imagine that the wreath,Set, as you say, so lightly on her head,Fell with her motion as she rose, and she,A girl, a child, then but fifteen, howeverFlutter'd or flatter'd by your notice of her,Was yet too bashful to return for it?COUNT.Was it so indeed? was it so? was it so?[Leans forward to take wreath, and touchesLADYGIOVANNA'Shand, which she withdraws hastily;he places wreath on corner of chair.LADY GIOVANNA (with dignity).I did not say, my lord, that it was so;I said you might imagine it was so.EnterFILIPPOwith bowl of salad, which he places on table.FILIPPO.Here's a fine salad for my lady, for tho' we have been a soldier, andridden by his lordship's side, and seen the red of the battle-field,yet are we now drill-sergeant to his lordship's lettuces, and professto be great in green things and in garden-stuff.LADY GIOVANNA.I thank thee, good Filippo. [ExitFILIPPO.EnterELISABETTAwith bird on a dish which she places ontable.ELISABETTA (close to table).Here's a fine fowl for my lady; I had scant time to do him in. I hopehe be not underdone, for we be undone in the doing of him.LADY GIOVANNA.I thank you, my good nurse.FILIPPO (re-entering with plate of prunes).And here are fine fruits for my lady—prunes, my lady, from the treethat my lord himself planted here in the blossom of his boyhood—andso I, Filippo, being, with your ladyship's pardon, and as yourladyship knows, his lordship's own foster-brother, would commend themto your ladyship's most peculiar appreciation.[Puts plate on table.ELISABETTA.Filippo!LADY GIOVANNA (COUNTleads her to table).Will you not eat with me, my lord?COUNT.I cannot,Not a morsel, not one morsel. I have brokenMy fast already. I will pledge you. Wine!Filippo, wine![Sits near table; FILIPPObrings flask, fillstheCOUNT'Sgoblet, thenLADY GIOVANNA'S;ELISABETTAstands at the back ofLADYGIOVANNA'Schair.COUNT.It is but thin and cold,Not like the vintage blowing round your castle.We lie too deep down in the shadow here.Your ladyship lives higher in the sun.[They pledge each other and drink.LADY GIOVANNA.If I might send you down a flask or twoOf that same vintage? There is iron in it.It has been much commended as a medicine.I give it my sick son, and if you beNot quite recover'd of your wound, the wineMight help you. None has ever told me yetThe story of your battle and your wound.FILIPPO (coming forward).I can tell you, my lady, I can tell you.ELISABETTA.Filippo! will you take the word out of your master's own mouth?FILIPPO.Was it there to take? Put it there, my lord.COUNT.Giovanna, my dear lady, in this same battleWe had been beaten—they were ten to one.The trumpets of the fight had echo'd down,I and Filippo here had done our best,And, having passed unwounded from the field,Were seated sadly at a fountain side,Our horses grazing by us, when a troop,Laden with booty and with a flag of oursTa'en in the fight——FILIPPO.Ay, but we fought for it back,And kill'd——ELISABETTA.Filippo!COUNT.A troop of horse——FILIPPO.Five hundred!COUNT.Say fifty!FILIPPO.And we kill'd 'em by the score!ELISABETTA.Filippo!FILIPPO.Well, well, well! I bite my tongue.COUNT.We may have left their fifty less by five.However, staying not to count how many,But anger'd at their flaunting of our flag,We mounted, and we dash'd into the heart of 'em.I wore the lady's chaplet round my neck;It served me for a blessed rosary.I am sure that more than one brave fellow owedHis death to the charm in it.ELISABETTA.Hear that, my lady!COUNT.I cannot tell how long we strove beforeOur horses fell beneath us; down we wentCrush'd, hack'd at, trampled underfoot. The night,As some cold-manner'd friend may strangely do usThe truest service, had a touch of frostThat help'd to check the flowing of the blood.My last sight ere I swoon'd was one sweet faceCrown'd with the wreath.Thatseem'd to come and go.They left us there for dead!ELISABETTA.Hear that, my lady!FILIPPO.Ay, and I left two fingers there for dead. See, my lady!(Showing his hand.)LADY GIOVANNA.I see, Filippo!FILIPPO.And I have small hope of the gentleman gout in my great toe.LADY GIOVANNA.And why, Filippo? [Smiling absently.FILIPPO.I left him there for dead too!ELISABETTA.She smiles at him—how hard the woman is!My lady, if your ladyship were notToo proud to look upon the garland, youWould find it stain'd——COUNT (rising).Silence, Elisabetta!ELISABETTA.Stain'd with the blood of the best heart that everBeat for one woman. [Points to wreath on chair.LADY GIOVANNA (rising slowly).I can eat no more!COUNT.You have but trifled with our homely salad,But dallied with a single lettuce-leaf;Not eaten anything.LADY GIOVANNA.Nay, nay, I cannot.You know, my lord, I told you I was troubled.My one child Florio lying still so sick,I bound myself, and by a solemn vow,That I would touch no flesh till he were wellHere, or else well in Heaven, where all is well.[ELISABETTAclears table of bird and salad; FILIPPOsnatchesup the plate of prunes and holds them toLADY GIOVANNA.FILIPPO.But the prunes, my lady, from the tree that his lordship——LADY GIOVANNA.Not now, Filippo. My lord Federigo,Can I not speak with you once more alone?COUNT.You hear, Filippo? My good fellow, go!FILIPPO.But the prunes that your lordship——ELISABETTA.Filippo!COUNT.Ay, prune our company of thine own and go!ELISABETTA.Filippo!FILIPPO (turning).Well, well! the women![Exit.COUNT.And thou too leave us, my dear nurse, alone.ELISABETTA (folding up cloth and going).And me too! Ay, the dear nurse will leave you alone;but, for all that, she that has eaten the yolk is scarcelike to swallow the shell.[Turns and curtseys stiffly toLADY GIOVANNA,thenexit. LADY GIOVANNAtakes out diamond necklace from casket.LADY GIOVANNA.I have anger'd your good nurse; these old-world servantsAre all but flesh and blood with those they serve.My lord, I have a present to return you,And afterwards a boon to crave of you.COUNT.No, my most honour'd and long-worshipt lady,Poor Federigo degli AlberighiTakes nothing in return from you exceptReturn of his affection—can denyNothing to you that you require of him.LADY GIOVANNA.Then I require you to take back your diamonds—[Offering necklace.I doubt not they are yours. No other heartOf such magnificence in courtesyBeats—out of heaven. They seem'd too rich a prizeTo trust with any messenger. I cameIn person to return them. [Count draws back.If the phrase'Return' displease you, we will say—exchange themFor your—for your——COUNT (takes a step toward her and then back).For mine—and what of mine?LADY GIOVANNA.Well, shall we say this wreath and your sweet rhymes?COUNT.But have you ever worn my diamonds?LADY GIOVANNA.No!For that would seem accepting of your love.I cannot brave my brother—but be sureThat I shall never marry again, my lord!COUNT.Sure?LADY GIOVANNA.Yes!COUNT.Is this your brother's order?LADY GIOVANNA.No!For he would marry me to the richest manIn Florence; but I think you know the saying—'Better a man without riches, than riches without a man.'COUNT.A noble saying—and acted on would yieldA nobler breed of men and women. Lady,I find you a shrewd bargainer. The wreathThat once you wore outvalues twentyfoldThe diamonds that you never deign'd to wear.But lay them there for a moment![Points to table. LADY GIOVANNAplaces necklace on table.And be youGracious enough to let me know the boonBy granting which, if aught be mine to grant,I should be made more happy than I hopedEver to be again.LADY GIOVANNA.Then keep your wreath,But you will find me a shrewd bargainer still.I cannot keep your diamonds, for the giftI ask for, to my mind and at this presentOutvalues all the jewels upon earth.COUNT.It should be love that thus outvalues all.You speak like love, and yet you love me not.I have nothing in this world but love for you.LADY GIOVANNA.Love? itislove, love for my dying boy,Moves me to ask it of you.COUNT.What? my time?Is it my time? Well, I can give my timeTo him that is a part of you, your son.Shall I return to the castle with you? Shall ISit by him, read to him, tell him my tales,Sing him my songs? You know that I can touchThe ghittern to some purpose.LADY GIOVANNA.No, not that!I thank you heartily for that—and you,I doubt not from your nobleness of nature,Will pardon me for asking what I ask.COUNT.Giovanna, dear Giovanna, I that onceThe wildest of the random youth of FlorenceBefore I saw you—all my noblenessOf nature, as you deign to call it, drawsFrom you, and from my constancy to you.No more, but speak.LADY GIOVANNA.I will. You know sick people,More specially sick children, have strange fancies,Strange longings; and to thwart them in their moodMay work them grievous harm at times, may evenHasten their end. I would you had a son!It might be easier then for you to makeAllowance for a mother—her—who comesTo rob you of your one delight on earth.How often has my sick boy yearn'd for this!I have put him off as often; but to-dayI dared not—so much weaker, so much worseFor last day's journey. I was weeping for him:He gave me his hand: 'I should be well againIf the good Count would give me——COUNT.Give me.LADY GIOVANNA.His falcon.COUNT (starts back).My falcon!LADY GIOVANNA.Yes, your falcon, Federigo!COUNT.Alas, I cannot!LADY GIOVANNA.Cannot? Even so!I fear'd as much. O this unhappy world!How shall I break it to him? how shall I tell him?The boy may die: more blessed were the ragsOf some pale beggar-woman seeking almsFor her sick son, if he were like to live,Than all my childless wealth, if mine must die.I was to blame—the love you said you bore me—My lord, we thank you for your entertainment,[With a stately curtsey.And so return—Heaven help him!—to our son.[Turns—COUNT (rushes forward).Stay, stay, I am most unlucky, most unhappy.You never had look'd in on me before,And when you came and dipt your sovereign headThro' these low doors, you ask'd to eat with me.I had but emptiness to set before you,No not a draught of milk, no not an egg,Nothing but my brave bird, my noble falcon,My comrade of the house, and of the field.She had to die for it—she died for you.Perhaps I thought with those of old, the noblerThe victim was, the more acceptableMight be the sacrifice. I fear you scarceWill thank me for your entertainment now.LADY GIOVANNA (returning).I bear with him no longer.COUNT.No, Madonna!And he will have to bear with it as he may.LADY GIOVANNA.I break with him for ever!COUNT.Yes, Giovanna,But he will keep his love to you for ever!LADY GIOVANNA.You? you? not you! My brother! my hard brother!O Federigo, Federigo, I love you!Spite of ten thousand brothers, Federigo.[falls at his feet.COUNT (impetuously).Why then the dying of my noble birdHath served me better than her living—then[Takes diamonds from table.These diamonds are both yours and mine—have wonTheir value again—beyond all markets—thereI lay them for the first time round your neck.[Lays necklace round her neck.And then this chaplet—No more feuds, but peace,Peace and conciliation! I will makeYour brother love me. See, I tear awayThe leaves were darken'd by the battle—[Pulls leaves off and throws them down.—crown youAgain with the same crown my Queen of Beauty.[Places wreath on her head.Rise—I could almost think that the dead garlandWill break once more into the living blossom.Nay, nay, I pray you rise.[Raises her with both hands.We two togetherWill help to heal your son—your son and mine—We shall do it—we shall do it. [Embraces her.The purpose of my being is accomplish'd,And I am happy!LADY GIOVANNA.And I too, Federigo.