Fulvia:He was with Hæmon?Giulia:On that seat.Fulvia:Convulsed,Yet passionless?Giulia:His words were lowFulvia:Why wereYou not asleep?Giulia:I——Fulvia:Did he beat his handsBriefly—and then no more?Giulia:I was behind——Fulvia:And could not see? But heard their names?The Greek is still without?Giulia:My lady, yes.Fulvia:Your voice is guilty. How came Hæmon in?Answer me, answer! No, go quickly! IfThe duke has entered now and sleeps! Or if——!
Fulvia:He was with Hæmon?
Giulia:On that seat.
Fulvia:Convulsed,Yet passionless?
Giulia:His words were low
Fulvia:Why wereYou not asleep?
Giulia:I——
Fulvia:Did he beat his handsBriefly—and then no more?
Giulia:I was behind——
Fulvia:And could not see? But heard their names?The Greek is still without?
Giulia:My lady, yes.
Fulvia:Your voice is guilty. How came Hæmon in?Answer me, answer! No, go quickly! IfThe duke has entered now and sleeps! Or if——!
(Words and swords are heard, then a shriek fromHelena.Charlesrushes in furiousand wounded in the arm, followed byHelena,Antonio,who is dazed, and from the Castle side byHæmon,guards, etc.)
Antonio:You, you, sir? father? I knew it not, so swiftYour rage fell on me.Charles(to a guard): Gaping, ghastly fool!Do you behold him murderous and layNo hand on him!Antonio:But, sir——!Charles:Let him not fawnAbout me! Seize him! God forgives not Hell.Not this blood only but my soul's be on him.Helena:O, do not, he——Charles:Stand! stand! Touch me not withYour voice or eyes or being! They are softWith perfidy, and stole me to believeThere's sweetness in a flower, light in air,And beauty in the innocence of earth.Bind him! Leucadia's just cliff awaitsAll traitors—'tis the law, they must be flungOut on the dizzy and supportless wind.Fulvia:But this shall never be! No, though your looksHeave out with hate upon me.Charles(convulsed, then coldly): You are dead,And speak to me. Once you were Fulvia—No more! And once my friend, now but a ghostWhom I must gaze upon forgetlessly.Obey, at once! and at to-morrow's sunset!(Antoniois taken and led out.)Helena(falling atCharles'feet): You cannot, will not—O, he is your sonAnd loves you much!Charles:Touch me not! touch me not!(ToHæmon.) Lead her away—and quickly,quickly, quickly! (Hæmongoes withHelenathrough the postern.Friends—friends—(unsteadily) I am—quite—friendless now—? (Clutching his wounded arm.) Ah—quite! (He faints.)Fulvia:Charles! Charles! my lord! return!—A numbnessHas barred the way of soothing to his breast!
Antonio:You, you, sir? father? I knew it not, so swiftYour rage fell on me.
Charles(to a guard): Gaping, ghastly fool!Do you behold him murderous and layNo hand on him!
Antonio:But, sir——!
Charles:Let him not fawnAbout me! Seize him! God forgives not Hell.Not this blood only but my soul's be on him.
Helena:O, do not, he——
Charles:Stand! stand! Touch me not withYour voice or eyes or being! They are softWith perfidy, and stole me to believeThere's sweetness in a flower, light in air,And beauty in the innocence of earth.Bind him! Leucadia's just cliff awaitsAll traitors—'tis the law, they must be flungOut on the dizzy and supportless wind.
Fulvia:But this shall never be! No, though your looksHeave out with hate upon me.
Charles(convulsed, then coldly): You are dead,And speak to me. Once you were Fulvia—No more! And once my friend, now but a ghostWhom I must gaze upon forgetlessly.Obey, at once! and at to-morrow's sunset!(Antoniois taken and led out.)
Helena(falling atCharles'feet): You cannot, will not—O, he is your sonAnd loves you much!
Charles:Touch me not! touch me not!(ToHæmon.) Lead her away—and quickly,quickly, quickly! (Hæmongoes withHelenathrough the postern.Friends—friends—(unsteadily) I am—quite—friendless now—? (Clutching his wounded arm.) Ah—quite! (He faints.)
Fulvia:Charles! Charles! my lord! return!—A numbnessHas barred the way of soothing to his breast!
Scene.—A chamber in the Castle, opening on the right to a hall, curtained on the left from another chamber. In the rear is a window through which may be seen silvery hills of olive resting under the late afternoon sun: by it a shrine. Enter theCaptainof the Guard and aSoldierfrom the Hall.
Scene.—A chamber in the Castle, opening on the right to a hall, curtained on the left from another chamber. In the rear is a window through which may be seen silvery hills of olive resting under the late afternoon sun: by it a shrine. Enter theCaptainof the Guard and aSoldierfrom the Hall.
Soldier:There is no more?Captain:Not if you understand.Soldier:That do I—every link of it! I've servedUnder the bold de Montreal, and heFor stratagems—well, Italy knows him!Captain:You must be quick and secret.Soldier:As the endOf the world!Captain:Our duty's with the duke. But thenAntonio has our love.Soldier:That has he! Ah,That has he!Captain:Well, be close. None must escape,Remember, none be hurt. As for the princess,We'll hear the chink of ducats with her thanks.Soldier:Madonna save her!—The Judas of a fatherWho robs her rest!Captain(looking down the hall): 'Tis she who comes this way.So go, and haste. But fail not.Soldier:If I do,Bury me with a pagan, next a Turk!(Goes.
Soldier:There is no more?
Captain:Not if you understand.
Soldier:That do I—every link of it! I've servedUnder the bold de Montreal, and heFor stratagems—well, Italy knows him!
Captain:You must be quick and secret.
Soldier:As the endOf the world!
Captain:Our duty's with the duke. But thenAntonio has our love.
Soldier:That has he! Ah,That has he!
Captain:Well, be close. None must escape,Remember, none be hurt. As for the princess,We'll hear the chink of ducats with her thanks.
Soldier:Madonna save her!—The Judas of a fatherWho robs her rest!
Captain(looking down the hall): 'Tis she who comes this way.So go, and haste. But fail not.
Soldier:If I do,Bury me with a pagan, next a Turk!(Goes.
EnterFulvia.
Captain:Princess—Fulvia:Our plans grow to fulfilment—areNo way misplanted?Captain:Lady, all seems nowSeasonable for their expected fruit.Fulvia:No accident appears to threat and thwart them?Captain:Doubt not a fullest harvest of your hope.The duke himself shall for this deed at lastHave benediction.Fulvia:May it be! He's quick,Though quicker in forgetting. I will moveHim as I may.Captain:The kind and wise assaultsYour words shall make must move him, gracious lady.
Captain:Princess—
Fulvia:Our plans grow to fulfilment—areNo way misplanted?
Captain:Lady, all seems nowSeasonable for their expected fruit.
Fulvia:No accident appears to threat and thwart them?
Captain:Doubt not a fullest harvest of your hope.The duke himself shall for this deed at lastHave benediction.
Fulvia:May it be! He's quick,Though quicker in forgetting. I will moveHim as I may.
Captain:The kind and wise assaultsYour words shall make must move him, gracious lady.
EnterHæmon.
Hæmon:I seek the duke.Fulvia(dismissingCaptainwith a gesture):You would seek penitenceWere you less far in folly.Hæmon(as going):O—if he'sNot here, then——Fulvia:Sorrow too would strain your lips,Not cold defiance.Hæmon:Pardon: if you know,Where is he?Fulvia:Was it easy to o'erwhelmUnder the ruin of her dreams a sister?Hæmon:Better beneath her dreams than under shame.Fulvia:Your rashness cloaks itself in that excuse,Your ruth, and your suspicion that has doomedOne innocent.Hæmon:One innocent! His thoughtHad but betrayal for her!Fulvia:'Tis the GreekIn you avows it, no true voice.Hæmon:Then 'tisMy father murdered whose last moan I hearDriven about me in this castle's grayCold spaces. And the dead speak not to lie.Fulvia:No, no. You cannot brave your action withThe spur of that belief.Hæmon:What want you of me?Fulvia:This: ache and restlessness are on you.Hæmon(impatiently):No.Fulvia:And doubt begins in you that as a wolfWill scent the wounded quarry of your conscience.Hæmon:After he lured and wooed her under nightAnd secrecy?Fulvia:Not running there will youEscape its dread pursuit.Hæmon:He frauded—dupedHis father's trust!Fulvia:Or there! But one refugeHave you against its bitter ceaseless tooth,And that above the wilds of self-deceit.Hæmon:Why do you wind so sinuously about me?No refuge can be from an hour that's done.Shall we invert the glass or tilt the dialTo bring it back?Fulvia:But if there were?Hæmon:Where isThe duke—I will not bauble.Fulvia:If there were?Hæmon:I will no longer listen to the worm,You set to feed upon me—torturing!The sun melts to an end, and with the nightAntonio will not be.Fulvia:Yet there is time.Hæmon:The duke is fixed.Fulvia:No matter: 'gainst the swellAnd power of this peril you must lean.Hæmon:I——?Fulvia:Yes.Hæmon:You have a plan?Fulvia:One that is sure. (Steps are heard.)But through those curtains, quick. For more seek outThe Captain of the guard. The duke comes hither.
Hæmon:I seek the duke.
Fulvia(dismissingCaptainwith a gesture):You would seek penitenceWere you less far in folly.
Hæmon(as going):O—if he'sNot here, then——
Fulvia:Sorrow too would strain your lips,Not cold defiance.
Hæmon:Pardon: if you know,Where is he?
Fulvia:Was it easy to o'erwhelmUnder the ruin of her dreams a sister?
Hæmon:Better beneath her dreams than under shame.
Fulvia:Your rashness cloaks itself in that excuse,Your ruth, and your suspicion that has doomedOne innocent.
Hæmon:One innocent! His thoughtHad but betrayal for her!
Fulvia:'Tis the GreekIn you avows it, no true voice.
Hæmon:Then 'tisMy father murdered whose last moan I hearDriven about me in this castle's grayCold spaces. And the dead speak not to lie.
Fulvia:No, no. You cannot brave your action withThe spur of that belief.
Hæmon:What want you of me?
Fulvia:This: ache and restlessness are on you.
Hæmon(impatiently):No.
Fulvia:And doubt begins in you that as a wolfWill scent the wounded quarry of your conscience.
Hæmon:After he lured and wooed her under nightAnd secrecy?
Fulvia:Not running there will youEscape its dread pursuit.
Hæmon:He frauded—dupedHis father's trust!
Fulvia:Or there! But one refugeHave you against its bitter ceaseless tooth,And that above the wilds of self-deceit.
Hæmon:Why do you wind so sinuously about me?No refuge can be from an hour that's done.Shall we invert the glass or tilt the dialTo bring it back?
Fulvia:But if there were?
Hæmon:Where isThe duke—I will not bauble.
Fulvia:If there were?
Hæmon:I will no longer listen to the worm,You set to feed upon me—torturing!The sun melts to an end, and with the nightAntonio will not be.
Fulvia:Yet there is time.
Hæmon:The duke is fixed.
Fulvia:No matter: 'gainst the swellAnd power of this peril you must lean.
Hæmon:I——?
Fulvia:Yes.
Hæmon:You have a plan?
Fulvia:One that is sure. (Steps are heard.)But through those curtains, quick. For more seek outThe Captain of the guard. The duke comes hither.
(Hæmongoes through the curtains.
Charlesenters, worn, dishevelled, and followed byCecco.He seesFulviaand pauses.
Fulvia:I come to plead.Charles:(turning away): Ah! Nature should have pledWith her your mother, 'gainst conception.Fulvia:Your trust is causelessly withdrawn. Yet forA breath again I beg it—for a moment!Charles:A moment were too much—or not enough.Is trust a flower of sudden birth we mayBid bloom with a command?Fulvia:Ah, that it were,Or bloomed as amaranth in those we love,Beyond all drought and withering of ill!But hear me——!Charles:Leave these words.Fulvia:Will you not turnOut of this rage?Charles:Leave them, I say, and cease!Still down the vortex of this destinyI would not farther have you drawn.Fulvia:Then fromIt draw yourself!Charles:Myself am but a hulkWhose treasures have already been engulfed.Fulvia:Yet shrink from it!Charles:A son, a friend, a—No,She was not mine!—I will not turn.Fulvia:It isYour fury that distorts us into guilt.Although he will not render up his heart,But flings you stony and unfilial speech,Fearing for her——Charles:Leave!Fulvia:We——Charles:Thrice have I said it!Fulvia:Yet must I not until your will is wasted.Charles(angrily): Ah!
Fulvia:I come to plead.
Charles:(turning away): Ah! Nature should have pledWith her your mother, 'gainst conception.
Fulvia:Your trust is causelessly withdrawn. Yet forA breath again I beg it—for a moment!
Charles:A moment were too much—or not enough.Is trust a flower of sudden birth we mayBid bloom with a command?
Fulvia:Ah, that it were,Or bloomed as amaranth in those we love,Beyond all drought and withering of ill!But hear me——!
Charles:Leave these words.
Fulvia:Will you not turnOut of this rage?
Charles:Leave them, I say, and cease!Still down the vortex of this destinyI would not farther have you drawn.
Fulvia:Then fromIt draw yourself!
Charles:Myself am but a hulkWhose treasures have already been engulfed.
Fulvia:Yet shrink from it!
Charles:A son, a friend, a—No,She was not mine!—I will not turn.
Fulvia:It isYour fury that distorts us into guilt.Although he will not render up his heart,But flings you stony and unfilial speech,Fearing for her——
Charles:Leave!
Fulvia:We——
Charles:Thrice have I said it!
Fulvia:Yet must I not until your will is wasted.
Charles(angrily): Ah!
(Fulviasighs then goes slowly.)
Charles:Cecco!Cecco:My lord?Charles:The hour?Cecco(going to window):It leans to sunset.Charles:The sky—the sky?Cecco:A murk moves slowly up.Charles(wearily): There should be storm—gloating of wind and grindOf hopeless thunders. Lightnings should laugh outAs tongues of fiends. There should be storm.(His head sinks on his breast.)(Suddenly.) Yet!—yet!——Cecco:My lord?Charles:The glow and glory of her seemDead in me!Cecco:Of—the Greek?Charles:And yearning hasGrown impotent—as 'twere a moment's folly,A left and quickly quenched desire of youthKindled in me!—To youth alone love's sudden.Cecco:Sir, dare I speak?Charles:Speak.Cecco:When Antonio——Charles:Cease: but a whisper of his name and IAm frenzy—frenzy—though the stillness burnsAnd bursts with it!
Charles:Cecco!
Cecco:My lord?
Charles:The hour?
Cecco(going to window):It leans to sunset.
Charles:The sky—the sky?
Cecco:A murk moves slowly up.
Charles(wearily): There should be storm—gloating of wind and grindOf hopeless thunders. Lightnings should laugh outAs tongues of fiends. There should be storm.(His head sinks on his breast.)(Suddenly.) Yet!—yet!——
Cecco:My lord?
Charles:The glow and glory of her seemDead in me!
Cecco:Of—the Greek?
Charles:And yearning hasGrown impotent—as 'twere a moment's folly,A left and quickly quenched desire of youthKindled in me!—To youth alone love's sudden.
Cecco:Sir, dare I speak?
Charles:Speak.
Cecco:When Antonio——
Charles:Cease: but a whisper of his name and IAm frenzy—frenzy—though the stillness burnsAnd bursts with it!
(Ceccosteps back. A pause.)
Charles:The sun, how hangs it now?Cecco(going to window): Above the bloody waving of the sea,Eager to dip.Charles(staggering up): Ah, I was in a foam——Bitten by hounds of fury and despair!Did you not, Fulvia, pleading for them sayThey quailed but would not flee and leave me waste?Cecco:She is not here, my liege.Charles:Antonio!Ah, boy! thou ever wast to me as waftsOf light, of song, of summer on the hills!Soft now I feel thy baby arms about me,And all the burgeon of thy youth, ere proudAnd cruel years grew in me, comes againOn wings and stealing winds of memory!Cecco:O, then, sir——Charles:Yes. Fly, fly! and stay the guard!He must not—Ah!—down fearful fathoms, downInto the roar!(Ceccostarts. He stops him.)Yet he has flung me fromImmeasurable peaks, and I have sunkForevermore beneath hope's horizon.Who falls so close the grave can rise no more.Cecco:This your despair would wound him more than death.Forget the girl.Charles:She? Ah, my sullen, wild,And gloomy pulse beat with a rightful scornAgainst the hours that sieged it. Stony wasIts solitude and fierce, bastioned againstAll danger of quick blisses—till, with furyFor that mute tenderness which women's loveLays on the desolation of the world,She ravished it!—Yet now 'tis still and cold.Cecco:But 'twas unknowingly.Charles:A woman's smileNever was luring, never, but she knew it,As hawk the cruel rapture of his wings.Cecco:She though is young, and youth——Charles:Must pay with moanThe shriving!—Ah, the sun—the sun—where burns it?Cecco: Upon a cloud whence it must spring to night.Charles: So low?Cecco:Sir, yes.Charles:Ah, 'tis? so low?Cecco:Red nowIt rushes forth.Charles:A breathing of the world,And then!—Antonio!Cecco:Again a cloudWithholds.Charles: Antonio!Cecco:It dips, my lord.Charles(frenzied): O, will great Christ upon it lay no fear!Let it swoon down as if its sinking sentNo signal unto Death—and plunge, plunge thee,Antonio, forever from the day!Has He no miracle will seize it yet!Nor will lend now His thunder to cry hold,His lightning to flame off the hands that grasp,Bidden to hurl thee o'er!Cecco:'Tis sunk!Charles(rushing to window):Yes!—Yes! (Starting back horrified.) The vision of it! Ah,—see you not, see!They lift him, swing him—Now! down, down, down, down!The rocks! the lash! the foam!
Charles:The sun, how hangs it now?
Cecco(going to window): Above the bloody waving of the sea,Eager to dip.
Charles(staggering up): Ah, I was in a foam——Bitten by hounds of fury and despair!Did you not, Fulvia, pleading for them sayThey quailed but would not flee and leave me waste?
Cecco:She is not here, my liege.
Charles:Antonio!Ah, boy! thou ever wast to me as waftsOf light, of song, of summer on the hills!Soft now I feel thy baby arms about me,And all the burgeon of thy youth, ere proudAnd cruel years grew in me, comes againOn wings and stealing winds of memory!
Cecco:O, then, sir——
Charles:Yes. Fly, fly! and stay the guard!He must not—Ah!—down fearful fathoms, downInto the roar!(Ceccostarts. He stops him.)Yet he has flung me fromImmeasurable peaks, and I have sunkForevermore beneath hope's horizon.Who falls so close the grave can rise no more.
Cecco:This your despair would wound him more than death.Forget the girl.
Charles:She? Ah, my sullen, wild,And gloomy pulse beat with a rightful scornAgainst the hours that sieged it. Stony wasIts solitude and fierce, bastioned againstAll danger of quick blisses—till, with furyFor that mute tenderness which women's loveLays on the desolation of the world,She ravished it!—Yet now 'tis still and cold.
Cecco:But 'twas unknowingly.
Charles:A woman's smileNever was luring, never, but she knew it,As hawk the cruel rapture of his wings.
Cecco:She though is young, and youth——
Charles:Must pay with moanThe shriving!—Ah, the sun—the sun—where burns it?
Cecco: Upon a cloud whence it must spring to night.
Charles: So low?
Cecco:Sir, yes.
Charles:Ah, 'tis? so low?
Cecco:Red nowIt rushes forth.
Charles:A breathing of the world,And then!—Antonio!
Cecco:Again a cloudWithholds.
Charles: Antonio!
Cecco:It dips, my lord.
Charles(frenzied): O, will great Christ upon it lay no fear!Let it swoon down as if its sinking sentNo signal unto Death—and plunge, plunge thee,Antonio, forever from the day!Has He no miracle will seize it yet!Nor will lend now His thunder to cry hold,His lightning to flame off the hands that grasp,Bidden to hurl thee o'er!
Cecco:'Tis sunk!
Charles(rushing to window):Yes!—Yes! (Starting back horrified.) The vision of it! Ah,—see you not, see!They lift him, swing him—Now! down, down, down, down!The rocks! the lash! the foam!
(Sinks exhausted in his chair.Ceccopours out wine.)
Enter hurriedly,aSoldier.
Soldier:Great lord!Cecco:What now!It is ill-timed!Soldier:Great lord, there's mutiny!Cecco: And where?Soldier:Hear me, great sir, there's mutiny!Cecco: The town? the town?Charles(rousing):Ay——?Soldier:Mutiny! your haste!Charles: O, mutiny.Soldier:Sir, yes!Charles:And do the ranksOf hell roar up at me?—It is not strange.Soldier(confused): The ranks of—pardon, lord.Charles:Do the skies rage——?They were else dead to madness.Soldier:Sir, it isYour guard beyond the gates.Charles:'Tis every throatOf earth and realm unearthly has a cryAgainst me and against!Soldier:No, but a few——Charles: You doubt it?—Are my eyes not bloody? Say!Soldier: Sir! sir!Charles: My lips then are not pale with murderBitterly done?Soldier:Pale—no.Charles:Yet have I killed;Spoke death with them—not reasonless—yet death.And all the lost have echoes of it: hearYou not a spirit clamor on the air?Ploughing as storms of pain it passes through me.Mutiny? Go. I could call chaos fair,And fawn on infinite ruin—fawn and praise.(Soldiergoes.Yet will not yield! (ToCecco.) My robes and coronet!(Ceccogoes to obey.I'll sit in them and mock at greatness thatA passion may unthrone. If we weep notCalamity will leave to torture us,And fate for want of tears will thirst to death!
Soldier:Great lord!
Cecco:What now!It is ill-timed!
Soldier:Great lord, there's mutiny!
Cecco: And where?
Soldier:Hear me, great sir, there's mutiny!
Cecco: The town? the town?
Charles(rousing):Ay——?
Soldier:Mutiny! your haste!
Charles: O, mutiny.
Soldier:Sir, yes!
Charles:And do the ranksOf hell roar up at me?—It is not strange.
Soldier(confused): The ranks of—pardon, lord.
Charles:Do the skies rage——?They were else dead to madness.
Soldier:Sir, it isYour guard beyond the gates.
Charles:'Tis every throatOf earth and realm unearthly has a cryAgainst me and against!
Soldier:No, but a few——
Charles: You doubt it?—Are my eyes not bloody? Say!
Soldier: Sir! sir!
Charles: My lips then are not pale with murderBitterly done?
Soldier:Pale—no.
Charles:Yet have I killed;Spoke death with them—not reasonless—yet death.And all the lost have echoes of it: hearYou not a spirit clamor on the air?Ploughing as storms of pain it passes through me.Mutiny? Go. I could call chaos fair,And fawn on infinite ruin—fawn and praise.(Soldiergoes.Yet will not yield! (ToCecco.) My robes and coronet!(Ceccogoes to obey.I'll sit in them and mock at greatness thatA passion may unthrone. If we weep notCalamity will leave to torture us,And fate for want of tears will thirst to death!
EnterCardinal.
Ah, priestly sir.Cardinal:Infuriate man!Charles:Speak so.I lust for bitterness.Cardinal:What have you done!Charles(shuddering, then smiling): Watched the sun set. Did it not, think you, bleedUnwontedly along the waves?Cardinal:O horror!Horrible when a father slays and smiles!Charles: Not so, lord Cardinal, not so!—but whenHe slays and smileth not.Cardinal:Beyond all mercy!Charles: Therefore I smile. Men should not mid the triteEnchanting and vain trickery of earthTill they no longer hope of it, or want.Smiles should be kept for life's unbearable.Cardinal: Murderer!Charles:Ah!Cardinal:Heretic!Charles:Well.
Ah, priestly sir.
Cardinal:Infuriate man!
Charles:Speak so.I lust for bitterness.
Cardinal:What have you done!
Charles(shuddering, then smiling): Watched the sun set. Did it not, think you, bleedUnwontedly along the waves?
Cardinal:O horror!Horrible when a father slays and smiles!
Charles: Not so, lord Cardinal, not so!—but whenHe slays and smileth not.
Cardinal:Beyond all mercy!
Charles: Therefore I smile. Men should not mid the triteEnchanting and vain trickery of earthTill they no longer hope of it, or want.Smiles should be kept for life's unbearable.
Cardinal: Murderer!
Charles:Ah!
Cardinal:Heretic!
Charles:Well.
(Goes to shrine and casts it out the window.)
Cardinal:Fool! fool!Charles: There are no wise men, O lord Cardinal.Cardinal: Heaven let Antonio's death under the seaMake every wave a tongue against your rest,And 'gainst the rock of this impenitence!(Charleslistens as to something afar off.)No wind should blow that has not sting of it,No light stream that it stains not!Charles(sighing):You have loosedYour robe, lord prelate—see.Cardinal:O stone! thou stone!Charles: Have peace. A keener cry comes up to meThan frenzy can invoke: a vaster painThan justice from Omnipotence may call.Cardinal: My lips shall learn it.Charles: "Father" moans it. "Father!"——It is my ears' inheritance forever.
Cardinal:Fool! fool!
Charles: There are no wise men, O lord Cardinal.
Cardinal: Heaven let Antonio's death under the seaMake every wave a tongue against your rest,And 'gainst the rock of this impenitence!(Charleslistens as to something afar off.)No wind should blow that has not sting of it,No light stream that it stains not!
Charles(sighing):You have loosedYour robe, lord prelate—see.
Cardinal:O stone! thou stone!
Charles: Have peace. A keener cry comes up to meThan frenzy can invoke: a vaster painThan justice from Omnipotence may call.
Cardinal: My lips shall learn it.
Charles: "Father" moans it. "Father!"——It is my ears' inheritance forever.
EnterFulvia
Fulvia: Lord Cardinal, one of your servants hasIn quarrel been struck, and mortally 'tis feared.Quickly to him: then I may plead of youEscort to Rome.Cardinal:I do not understand.Fulvia: But shall.Cardinal:To Rome?Fulvia:Do not pause here to learnWith the dear minutes of a dying man.(Cardinalgoes.Charles: You baffle and bewilder.Fulvia:Well.Charles:You—?—Yes!I am beat off by it.Fulvia:Ten years of shelterHave you held over me.Charles:Ten years——Fulvia:Whose days,Whose every moment else had borne a torture.Charles: Now——?Fulvia:I, perhaps, must go.Charles:Must?—Still I grope.Fulvia: Must go! Though in this castle's aged calmAnd melancholy dusk no shadow isOr niche but may remember prayer for thee.Charles: To Rome? You must?—I am under a spell.Fulvia: We, thou and I, after the battle's foamOr chase's tired return, often have breathedThe passionate deep hours away in restAnd sympathy.Charles: Say on. Your voice—I marvel——Fulvia: And at the dawn have looked and sighed, then slowWith quiet clasp of fingers turned apart.Charles: You go?—But, on!—your tone—in it I feel——Fulvia: Have we not fast been friends?Charles:What hath your voice?Fulvia: Such friends have we not been as grow up fromEternity?Charles:You say it, and I wake.Fulvia: Such friends—till yesterday you——Charles:Ah!Fulvia: Changed sudden as the sea when cometh storm.Charles: I had forgot—forgot!—the sun!—the sea!The sea!—Antonio!—The cliff—the surf!The shroud and funeral fury of the waves!Fulvia: Be calm.Charles(rising excitedly): I'll stay it! Cecco, our fleetest foot!A rain of ducats if he shall outspeedThis doom on us. More! more! a flood of them,If he——Fulvia(drawing him to his chair): Be patient—calm.Charles:I—I—remember,'Tis night!Fulvia:Yes, night.Charles:The sun's no more! It hathGone down beyond all mercy and recall.Fulvia: Beyond?—Ah!Charles(quickly): Fulvia?Fulvia:'Tis hard to think!Charles: You utter and he seemeth still of life.Fulvia: He was a child in mimic mail clad outWhen first this threshold poured its welcome to me.Charles: Softly you muse it, and call to your eyesNo quailing nor a flame of execration!You do not burst out on me? from me doNot shrink as from an executioner?Fulvia: I am a woman who in tears came toYour strength, in tears depart.Charles:And will not judge?But fear me—fear, and flee?—You shall not go!Fulvia: PerhapsCharles: Again "perhaps"—this calm "perhaps!"——To Rome?—I say you shall not.Fulvia:Yet should he,Antonio, from those curtains come——Charles:Should—should?You speak not reasonably. Why do you say"If he should come?"Fulvia:Because——Charles:You've touchedAnd led me trembling from reality!Those curtains?—those?—just those?—You shall not go.Fulvia: I will not then.Charles:But something breaks from you,And as an air of resurrection stirs.Speak; on your words I wait unutterably.Fulvia: Did not a soldier lately come, my lord,Breathless with eager speech of mutiny——?Charles: Well—well——?Fulvia:Within your guard?Charles:My guard? No—yes——What do I see yet cannot in your words?Fulvia: The mutiny was roused at my command.Charles: Say it—say all!Fulvia:To save you the mad blotOf a son's blood.Charles:Antonio——?Fulvia:Lives!Charles:Low—low——Joy come too furious has piercing peril.He lives?—You have done this? With these soft hands,These little hands, held off the shears of Fate?Have dared? and have not feared?Fulvia:Your danger wasMy fear—that, and no more.Charles:He lives?—I haveNo worth, no gratitude, no gift that mayAnswer this deed—no glow, no eloquenceBut would ring poor in rarest words of earth.He lives?—Years yet are mine. Too brief they'll beTo muse with love of this!Fulvia:No, no, my lord.Charles: But where is he? Belief, tho' risen, strainsIn me as if 'twere fast in cerementsThat seeing must unbind.Fulvia:Turn then, and see.
Fulvia: Lord Cardinal, one of your servants hasIn quarrel been struck, and mortally 'tis feared.Quickly to him: then I may plead of youEscort to Rome.
Cardinal:I do not understand.
Fulvia: But shall.
Cardinal:To Rome?
Fulvia:Do not pause here to learnWith the dear minutes of a dying man.(Cardinalgoes.
Charles: You baffle and bewilder.
Fulvia:Well.
Charles:You—?—Yes!I am beat off by it.
Fulvia:Ten years of shelterHave you held over me.
Charles:Ten years——
Fulvia:Whose days,Whose every moment else had borne a torture.
Charles: Now——?
Fulvia:I, perhaps, must go.
Charles:Must?—Still I grope.
Fulvia: Must go! Though in this castle's aged calmAnd melancholy dusk no shadow isOr niche but may remember prayer for thee.
Charles: To Rome? You must?—I am under a spell.
Fulvia: We, thou and I, after the battle's foamOr chase's tired return, often have breathedThe passionate deep hours away in restAnd sympathy.
Charles: Say on. Your voice—I marvel——
Fulvia: And at the dawn have looked and sighed, then slowWith quiet clasp of fingers turned apart.
Charles: You go?—But, on!—your tone—in it I feel——
Fulvia: Have we not fast been friends?
Charles:What hath your voice?
Fulvia: Such friends have we not been as grow up fromEternity?
Charles:You say it, and I wake.
Fulvia: Such friends—till yesterday you——Charles:Ah!
Fulvia: Changed sudden as the sea when cometh storm.
Charles: I had forgot—forgot!—the sun!—the sea!The sea!—Antonio!—The cliff—the surf!The shroud and funeral fury of the waves!
Fulvia: Be calm.
Charles(rising excitedly): I'll stay it! Cecco, our fleetest foot!A rain of ducats if he shall outspeedThis doom on us. More! more! a flood of them,If he——
Fulvia(drawing him to his chair): Be patient—calm.
Charles:I—I—remember,'Tis night!
Fulvia:Yes, night.
Charles:The sun's no more! It hathGone down beyond all mercy and recall.
Fulvia: Beyond?—Ah!
Charles(quickly): Fulvia?
Fulvia:'Tis hard to think!
Charles: You utter and he seemeth still of life.
Fulvia: He was a child in mimic mail clad outWhen first this threshold poured its welcome to me.
Charles: Softly you muse it, and call to your eyesNo quailing nor a flame of execration!You do not burst out on me? from me doNot shrink as from an executioner?
Fulvia: I am a woman who in tears came toYour strength, in tears depart.
Charles:And will not judge?But fear me—fear, and flee?—You shall not go!
Fulvia: Perhaps
Charles: Again "perhaps"—this calm "perhaps!"——To Rome?—I say you shall not.
Fulvia:Yet should he,Antonio, from those curtains come——
Charles:Should—should?You speak not reasonably. Why do you say"If he should come?"
Fulvia:Because——
Charles:You've touchedAnd led me trembling from reality!Those curtains?—those?—just those?—You shall not go.
Fulvia: I will not then.
Charles:But something breaks from you,And as an air of resurrection stirs.Speak; on your words I wait unutterably.
Fulvia: Did not a soldier lately come, my lord,Breathless with eager speech of mutiny——?
Charles: Well—well——?
Fulvia:Within your guard?
Charles:My guard? No—yes——What do I see yet cannot in your words?
Fulvia: The mutiny was roused at my command.
Charles: Say it—say all!
Fulvia:To save you the mad blotOf a son's blood.
Charles:Antonio——?
Fulvia:Lives!
Charles:Low—low——Joy come too furious has piercing peril.He lives?—You have done this? With these soft hands,These little hands, held off the shears of Fate?Have dared? and have not feared?
Fulvia:Your danger wasMy fear—that, and no more.
Charles:He lives?—I haveNo worth, no gratitude, no gift that mayAnswer this deed—no glow, no eloquenceBut would ring poor in rarest words of earth.He lives?—Years yet are mine. Too brief they'll beTo muse with love of this!
Fulvia:No, no, my lord.
Charles: But where is he? Belief, tho' risen, strainsIn me as if 'twere fast in cerementsThat seeing must unbind.
Fulvia:Turn then, and see.
(Antoniosteps from the curtains.)