"'Sweet Helena! Fair Helena!' Pluck me, wench, but the lord Antonio knows sound nuts! And sly! Why hear you now! he gets the duke to seize on the maid! The fox! The rat! Have I not heard him in his chamber thesethirty nights puff her name out his window with as many honeyed drawls of passion as—as—as—June has buds? 'Sweet Helena!'—la! 'Fair Helena!'—O! 'Dear Helena! my rose! my queen! my sun and moon and stars! Thy kiss is still at my lips, thy breast beats still on mine! my Helena!'—Um! Oh, 'tmust be a rare damsel. I'll make a sluice between her purse and mine, wench; do you hear?"
"'Sweet Helena! Fair Helena!' Pluck me, wench, but the lord Antonio knows sound nuts! And sly! Why hear you now! he gets the duke to seize on the maid! The fox! The rat! Have I not heard him in his chamber thesethirty nights puff her name out his window with as many honeyed drawls of passion as—as—as—June has buds? 'Sweet Helena!'—la! 'Fair Helena!'—O! 'Dear Helena! my rose! my queen! my sun and moon and stars! Thy kiss is still at my lips, thy breast beats still on mine! my Helena!'—Um! Oh, 'tmust be a rare damsel. I'll make a sluice between her purse and mine, wench; do you hear?"
Hæmon:Well—well?Bardas:No more. When I had struck him down,He swore it was unswerving all and truth.Hasting to warn I found Helena ta'enAnd sought you here.Hæmon(grasping his brows): Ah!Bardas:Helena who isAll purity!Hæmon:Ah sister, child!—Have IWith strength been father and with tendernessA mother been to her unfolding yearsBut to see now unchastest crueltyPluck her white bloom to ease his idle senseOne fragrant hour?—If it be so, no flowersShould blossom; only weeds whose witheringCan hurt no heart!Bardas:These tears should seal fierce oathsAgainst him!Hæmon:And they shall! until God wrecksHim in the tempest raised of his outrage!Bardas:Then may I be the rock on which he breaks!But hear; who comes? (Revellers are heard approaching.)We must aside untilThis mirth is past. (They conceal themselves.)
Hæmon:Well—well?
Bardas:No more. When I had struck him down,He swore it was unswerving all and truth.Hasting to warn I found Helena ta'enAnd sought you here.
Hæmon(grasping his brows): Ah!
Bardas:Helena who isAll purity!
Hæmon:Ah sister, child!—Have IWith strength been father and with tendernessA mother been to her unfolding yearsBut to see now unchastest crueltyPluck her white bloom to ease his idle senseOne fragrant hour?—If it be so, no flowersShould blossom; only weeds whose witheringCan hurt no heart!
Bardas:These tears should seal fierce oathsAgainst him!
Hæmon:And they shall! until God wrecksHim in the tempest raised of his outrage!
Bardas:Then may I be the rock on which he breaks!But hear; who comes? (Revellers are heard approaching.)We must aside untilThis mirth is past. (They conceal themselves.)
Enter revellers dressed as bacchanals and bacchantes, dancing and singing.
Bacchus, hey! was a god, hei-yo!The vine! a fig for the rest!With locks green-crowned and lips red-warm—The vine! the vine's the best!He loved maids, O-o-ay! hei-yo!The vine! a maiden's breast!He pressed the grape, and kissed the maid!—The cuckoo builds no nest!
Bacchus, hey! was a god, hei-yo!The vine! a fig for the rest!With locks green-crowned and lips red-warm—The vine! the vine's the best!He loved maids, O-o-ay! hei-yo!The vine! a maiden's breast!He pressed the grape, and kissed the maid!—The cuckoo builds no nest!
(All go dancing, exceptLydiaandPhaon,who clasps and kisses her passionately)
Lydia(breaking from him): Do you think kisses are so cheap? You must know mine fill my purse! A pretty gallant from Naples, with laces and silks and jewels gave me this ring last year for but one. And another lover from Venice gave me this (a bracelet)—but he looked so sad when he gave it. Ah, his eyes! I'd not have cared if he had given me naught.Phaon:Here, here, then! (Offers jewel.)Lydia(putting it aside): They say the ladies in Venice ride with their lovers through the streets all night in boats: and the very moon shines more passionately there. Is it true?Phaon:Yes, yes. But kiss me, Lydia! Take this jewel—my last. Be mine to-night, no other's! We'll prate of Venice another time.Lydia:Another time we'll prate of kisses. I'll not have the jewel.Phaon:Not have it! Now you're turning nun! a soft and virgin, silly nun! With a gray gown to hide these shoulders that—shall I whisper it?Lydia:Devil! they're not! A nice lover called them round and fair last night. And I've been sick! And—I—cruel! cruel! cruel! (Revellers are heard returning.) There, they're coming.Phaon:Never mind, my girl. But you mustn't scorn a man's blood when it's afire.
Lydia(breaking from him): Do you think kisses are so cheap? You must know mine fill my purse! A pretty gallant from Naples, with laces and silks and jewels gave me this ring last year for but one. And another lover from Venice gave me this (a bracelet)—but he looked so sad when he gave it. Ah, his eyes! I'd not have cared if he had given me naught.
Phaon:Here, here, then! (Offers jewel.)
Lydia(putting it aside): They say the ladies in Venice ride with their lovers through the streets all night in boats: and the very moon shines more passionately there. Is it true?
Phaon:Yes, yes. But kiss me, Lydia! Take this jewel—my last. Be mine to-night, no other's! We'll prate of Venice another time.
Lydia:Another time we'll prate of kisses. I'll not have the jewel.
Phaon:Not have it! Now you're turning nun! a soft and virgin, silly nun! With a gray gown to hide these shoulders that—shall I whisper it?
Lydia:Devil! they're not! A nice lover called them round and fair last night. And I've been sick! And—I—cruel! cruel! cruel! (Revellers are heard returning.) There, they're coming.
Phaon:Never mind, my girl. But you mustn't scorn a man's blood when it's afire.
Re-enter Revellers singing
Bacchus, hey! was a god, hei-yo! etc.(After which all go, exceptZoeandBasil.
Bacchus, hey! was a god, hei-yo! etc.(After which all go, exceptZoeandBasil.
Zoe:O! O! O! but 'tis brave! Wine, Basil! Wine, my knight, my Bacchus! Ho! ho! my god! you wheeze like a cross-bow. Is it years, my wooer, years?—Ah! (She sighs.)Basil:Sighs—sighs! Now look for showers.Zoe:Basil—you were my first lover—except the duke Charles. Ah, did you see how that Helena looked when they gave her the duke's command? I was like that once. (Hæmonstarts forward.)Basil:Fiends, nymphs and saints! it's come! tears in your eyes! Zoe, stop it. Would you have mine leak and drive me to a monastery for shelter!
Zoe:O! O! O! but 'tis brave! Wine, Basil! Wine, my knight, my Bacchus! Ho! ho! my god! you wheeze like a cross-bow. Is it years, my wooer, years?—Ah! (She sighs.)
Basil:Sighs—sighs! Now look for showers.
Zoe:Basil—you were my first lover—except the duke Charles. Ah, did you see how that Helena looked when they gave her the duke's command? I was like that once. (Hæmonstarts forward.)
Basil:Fiends, nymphs and saints! it's come! tears in your eyes! Zoe, stop it. Would you have mine leak and drive me to a monastery for shelter!
Zoe(sings sadly and absently):She lay by the river, dead,A broken reed in her handA nymph whom an idle god had wedAnd led from her maidenland.
Zoe(sings sadly and absently):She lay by the river, dead,A broken reed in her handA nymph whom an idle god had wedAnd led from her maidenland.
Basil:O, had I been born a heathen!Zoe:He told me, Basil, I should live, a great lady, at his castle. And they should kiss my hand and courtesy to me. He meant but jest—I feared.—I feared! But—I loved him!Basil:Now, my damsel—!
Basil:O, had I been born a heathen!
Zoe:He told me, Basil, I should live, a great lady, at his castle. And they should kiss my hand and courtesy to me. He meant but jest—I feared.—I feared! But—I loved him!
Basil:Now, my damsel—!
Zoe(sings):The god was the great god Jove,Two notes would the bent reed blow,The one was sorrow, the other loveEnwove with a woman's woe.
Zoe(sings):The god was the great god Jove,Two notes would the bent reed blow,The one was sorrow, the other loveEnwove with a woman's woe.
Basil:Songs and snakes! Give me instead a Dominican's funeral! I'd as lief crawl bare-kneed to Rome and mouth the Pope's heel. O blessed Turks with their remorseless harems!—Zoe!
Basil:Songs and snakes! Give me instead a Dominican's funeral! I'd as lief crawl bare-kneed to Rome and mouth the Pope's heel. O blessed Turks with their remorseless harems!—Zoe!
Zoe(sings):She lay by the river dead;And he at feasting forgot.The gods, shall they be disquietedBy dread of a mortal's lot?
Zoe(sings):She lay by the river dead;And he at feasting forgot.The gods, shall they be disquietedBy dread of a mortal's lot?
(She wipes her eyes, trembles, looks at him and laughs hysterically.)
Bacchus! my Bacchus! with wet eyes! Up, up, lad! there's many a cup for us yet!
Bacchus! my Bacchus! with wet eyes! Up, up, lad! there's many a cup for us yet!
(They go, she leading and singing.He loved maids, O-o-ay! hei-yo!The vine! a maiden's breast! etc.
(They go, she leading and singing.He loved maids, O-o-ay! hei-yo!The vine! a maiden's breast! etc.
(HæmonandBardaslook at each other, then start after them terribly moved.)
Scene.—An audience hall in the castle ofCharles di Tocca;the next afternoon. The dark stained walls have been festooned with vines and flowers. On the left is the ducal throne. On the right sunlight through high-set windows. In the rear heavily draped doors. EnterCharles,who looks around and smiles with subtle content, then summons a servant.
Scene.—An audience hall in the castle ofCharles di Tocca;the next afternoon. The dark stained walls have been festooned with vines and flowers. On the left is the ducal throne. On the right sunlight through high-set windows. In the rear heavily draped doors. EnterCharles,who looks around and smiles with subtle content, then summons a servant.
Enter servant.
Charles:The princess Fulvia.Servant:She comes, sir, now.(Goes.
Charles:The princess Fulvia.
Servant:She comes, sir, now.(Goes.
EnterFulvia.
Fulvia:My lord, flowers and vines upon these wallsThat seem always in dismal memoryAnd mist of grief? What means it?Charles:That sprung up,A greedy multitude upon the fields,Citron and olive were left hungry, soI quelled them!Fulvia:Magic ever dwells in flowersTo waft me back to childhood. (Taking some.)Poor pluckt budsIf they could speak like children torn from the breast.Charles:You're full of sighs and pity then?Fulvia:Yes, and—Of doubt.Charles:What so divides you?Fulvia:Helena—This Greek—I do not understand.Charles:Nor guess?You have not seen nor spoken to her?Fulvia:No.Charles: We'll have her. (Motions servant.)Go. Say that we wait her here,The lady Helena.(Servant goes.She's frighted—thinks'Tmay be her father found too deep a restWithin our care: yet has a hope that holdsThe tears still from her lids. I've smiled on her,Smiled, Fulvia, and she—Why do you cloud?Fulvia: I would this were undone.Charles:Undone? Undone?You would it were——?
Fulvia:My lord, flowers and vines upon these wallsThat seem always in dismal memoryAnd mist of grief? What means it?
Charles:That sprung up,A greedy multitude upon the fields,Citron and olive were left hungry, soI quelled them!
Fulvia:Magic ever dwells in flowersTo waft me back to childhood. (Taking some.)Poor pluckt budsIf they could speak like children torn from the breast.
Charles:You're full of sighs and pity then?
Fulvia:Yes, and—Of doubt.
Charles:What so divides you?
Fulvia:Helena—This Greek—I do not understand.
Charles:Nor guess?You have not seen nor spoken to her?
Fulvia:No.
Charles: We'll have her. (Motions servant.)Go. Say that we wait her here,The lady Helena.(Servant goes.She's frighted—thinks'Tmay be her father found too deep a restWithin our care: yet has a hope that holdsThe tears still from her lids. I've smiled on her,Smiled, Fulvia, and she—Why do you cloud?
Fulvia: I would this were undone.
Charles:Undone? Undone?You would it were——?
EnterHelena.
Ah, Greek! Our Fulvia,Who is as heart and health about our doors,Has speech for you. And politiesUntended groan for me.(He goes.Fulvia(looking sadly at her): Girl—child—Helena:Why doYou call me so with struggle on your breast?Fulvia:You're very fair.Helena:And was so free I thoughtThe world brimmed up with my full happiness.Fulvia:But find it is a sieve to all but grief?Helena:Is it then grief? I have not any tears,Yet seem girt by an emptiness that aches,Surrounds and whispers, what I dare not thinkOr, shapened, see.Fulvia:It stains too as a shroudThe morrow's face?Helena:You look at me—I thinkYou look at me, as if——?Fulvia:No child.Helena:Why amI in this place? You fear for me?Fulvia:Fear?Helena:Yes!A dumb dread trembles from you sufferingly.Fulvia:It is not fear. Or—no!—has vanished quite,Ashamed of its too naked idleness.Helena(shuddering): He cannot, will not!—Yet you feared!Fulvia:Be calm:Beauty is better so.Helena:Ah, you are cold!See a great shadow reach and wrap at me,Yet lend no light! By gentleness I pray you,What said he?Fulvia:Child——Helena:Child!—Ah, a moment's dreadBrings age on us!—If not by gentleness,Then by that love that women bear to men,By happiness too fleeting to tread earth,I pray you tell the fear your heart so hides!Fulvia:You are the guest of Charles di Tocca.Helena:Guest?Ah, guests are bidden, not commanded.—Where,Where can Antonio be gone. All dayNo token, quieting!Fulvia:Antonio, girl?Antonio?—Is it true?
Ah, Greek! Our Fulvia,Who is as heart and health about our doors,Has speech for you. And politiesUntended groan for me.(He goes.
Fulvia(looking sadly at her): Girl—child—
Helena:Why doYou call me so with struggle on your breast?
Fulvia:You're very fair.
Helena:And was so free I thoughtThe world brimmed up with my full happiness.
Fulvia:But find it is a sieve to all but grief?
Helena:Is it then grief? I have not any tears,Yet seem girt by an emptiness that aches,Surrounds and whispers, what I dare not thinkOr, shapened, see.
Fulvia:It stains too as a shroudThe morrow's face?
Helena:You look at me—I thinkYou look at me, as if——?
Fulvia:No child.
Helena:Why amI in this place? You fear for me?
Fulvia:Fear?
Helena:Yes!A dumb dread trembles from you sufferingly.
Fulvia:It is not fear. Or—no!—has vanished quite,Ashamed of its too naked idleness.
Helena(shuddering): He cannot, will not!—Yet you feared!
Fulvia:Be calm:Beauty is better so.
Helena:Ah, you are cold!See a great shadow reach and wrap at me,Yet lend no light! By gentleness I pray you,What said he?
Fulvia:Child——
Helena:Child!—Ah, a moment's dreadBrings age on us!—If not by gentleness,Then by that love that women bear to men,By happiness too fleeting to tread earth,I pray you tell the fear your heart so hides!
Fulvia:You are the guest of Charles di Tocca.
Helena:Guest?Ah, guests are bidden, not commanded.—Where,Where can Antonio be gone. All dayNo token, quieting!
Fulvia:Antonio, girl?Antonio?—Is it true?
Re-enterCharles.
Charles:So eager?—TruthHas brewed more tears than lies. But, Fulvia,Why doth it mated with Antonio's nameWring thus your troubled hands?Fulvia:My lord——Charles:You falter?No matter—now. (ToHelena.) But you, my fair one, putMore merriment upon your lips and lids,And this (giving pearls) upon the lustre of your throat.Hither our guests come soon. Be with us then,And at your beauty's best. Now; trembling so?—Yet is the lily lovelier in the wind!(He looks after, musingly, as she goes.Fulvia:My lord——Charles:True, Fulvia—as titles go.Fulvia:My lord——Charles:Twice—but I'm not two lords.Fulvia:To-nightI think you are. But quench your jests.Charles:In tears?And groans? Where borrow them?Fulvia(turning away):So let it be.Charles:Why do you say so be it and sigh asNought could again be well?Fulvia:O——Charles:Now you frown?Fulvia:The hope you nurse, then, if it prove a pangOf serpent bitterness——Charles:Prove pang? I thenBut for an "if" must pluck it from me?Fulvia:SoI must believe.Charles:Pluck it from me! Will you—Now will you have me mouth and foam and threshThe quiet in me to a maelstrom! ThisIs mine, this joy; and still is mine, though ITo keep it must bring on me bitternessAnd bleeding and—I rage!Fulvia:Then shall I cease,And say no more? No, you are on a floodWhose sinking may be rapid down to horror.And she—this girl! It has been long since youGave license rein upon your will, and spur.Do not so now.Charles:License?Fulvia:She is all mornAnd dream and dew: make her not dark!Charles:You think—!Fulvia:Wake her not, ah, not suddenly on terror!Charles:On terror! (Laughing.)Fulvia:You've laughed nobler.Charles:Fulvia,Friend of my unrepaying years, dream youI who in empire youth too soon forgot,Who on my brow surprise the wafted dew,The presages of age and death, shake not?Fulvia:I knew not, but have waited oft such words.Charles:Ah what! this hope, this leaping in me, thisWhite dawn across my turbulence and night,From license?—Hear me. I have sudden foundA door to let in heaven on my heart.Had I not laughed to see your dread upon itWrite "license," perilous had been my frown.Fulvia:You will——?Charles:Yes—yes! About her brow shall curlThe coronet! Her wishes shall be sceptresWaving a swift fulfilment to her feet!Her pity shall leave ready graves unfilled,Her anger open earth for all who offend!She shall——Fulvia:Ah cease, infatuate man! Will youBuild kingdoms on the wind, and empires onA girl's ungiven heart?Charles(slowly):Unto such loveAs mine all things are given.Fulvia:All things but love.Charles: Stood she not as in pleading? Yes—and toHer cheeks came hurried roses from her heart.And her large eyes, did they not drift to mineCaressing?—yet as if in them they foundThe likeness of some visitant dear dream.Fulvia:The likeness of some dream?Charles:Question no more.She is set in the centre of my needAs youth and fiercest passion could not set her.Supernally as May she has burst onMy barren age. Pain, envious decay,And doubt that mystery wounds us with, and wrong,Flee from the gleam and whisper of her name.Fulvia:And if your coronet and heat availNot with her as might charm of equal yearsAnd beauty?Charles:Then—why then—why there may slipAn avalanche of raging and despairOut of me! Hope of her once taken, allThe thwarted thunders of my want would rushInto the void with lightnings for revenge!
Charles:So eager?—TruthHas brewed more tears than lies. But, Fulvia,Why doth it mated with Antonio's nameWring thus your troubled hands?
Fulvia:My lord——
Charles:You falter?No matter—now. (ToHelena.) But you, my fair one, putMore merriment upon your lips and lids,And this (giving pearls) upon the lustre of your throat.Hither our guests come soon. Be with us then,And at your beauty's best. Now; trembling so?—Yet is the lily lovelier in the wind!(He looks after, musingly, as she goes.
Fulvia:My lord——
Charles:True, Fulvia—as titles go.
Fulvia:My lord——
Charles:Twice—but I'm not two lords.
Fulvia:To-nightI think you are. But quench your jests.
Charles:In tears?And groans? Where borrow them?
Fulvia(turning away):So let it be.
Charles:Why do you say so be it and sigh asNought could again be well?
Fulvia:O——
Charles:Now you frown?
Fulvia:The hope you nurse, then, if it prove a pangOf serpent bitterness——
Charles:Prove pang? I thenBut for an "if" must pluck it from me?
Fulvia:SoI must believe.
Charles:Pluck it from me! Will you—Now will you have me mouth and foam and threshThe quiet in me to a maelstrom! ThisIs mine, this joy; and still is mine, though ITo keep it must bring on me bitternessAnd bleeding and—I rage!
Fulvia:Then shall I cease,And say no more? No, you are on a floodWhose sinking may be rapid down to horror.And she—this girl! It has been long since youGave license rein upon your will, and spur.Do not so now.
Charles:License?
Fulvia:She is all mornAnd dream and dew: make her not dark!
Charles:You think—!
Fulvia:Wake her not, ah, not suddenly on terror!
Charles:On terror! (Laughing.)
Fulvia:You've laughed nobler.
Charles:Fulvia,Friend of my unrepaying years, dream youI who in empire youth too soon forgot,Who on my brow surprise the wafted dew,The presages of age and death, shake not?
Fulvia:I knew not, but have waited oft such words.
Charles:Ah what! this hope, this leaping in me, thisWhite dawn across my turbulence and night,From license?—Hear me. I have sudden foundA door to let in heaven on my heart.Had I not laughed to see your dread upon itWrite "license," perilous had been my frown.
Fulvia:You will——?
Charles:Yes—yes! About her brow shall curlThe coronet! Her wishes shall be sceptresWaving a swift fulfilment to her feet!Her pity shall leave ready graves unfilled,Her anger open earth for all who offend!She shall——
Fulvia:Ah cease, infatuate man! Will youBuild kingdoms on the wind, and empires onA girl's ungiven heart?
Charles(slowly):Unto such loveAs mine all things are given.
Fulvia:All things but love.
Charles: Stood she not as in pleading? Yes—and toHer cheeks came hurried roses from her heart.And her large eyes, did they not drift to mineCaressing?—yet as if in them they foundThe likeness of some visitant dear dream.
Fulvia:The likeness of some dream?
Charles:Question no more.She is set in the centre of my needAs youth and fiercest passion could not set her.Supernally as May she has burst onMy barren age. Pain, envious decay,And doubt that mystery wounds us with, and wrong,Flee from the gleam and whisper of her name.
Fulvia:And if your coronet and heat availNot with her as might charm of equal yearsAnd beauty?
Charles:Then—why then—why there may slipAn avalanche of raging and despairOut of me! Hope of her once taken, allThe thwarted thunders of my want would rushInto the void with lightnings for revenge!
EnterAntonio.
Antonio:Sir, I'm returned.Charles:With lightnings that shall—(Sees him.) You?Antonio? My eyes had other thought.Open your news—but mind 'tis not of failure.Antonio:We seized the murderous robbers in their coveAnd o'er the cliff, as our just law commands,To death flung them.Charles:So with all traitors be it.Antonio:So should it.Charles:Well, 'twas swift. In you there isMore than your mother's gentleness.Antonio:Else wereMy name di Tocca, sir, and not myself.Charles:You have my love.—But as you came met youThe cardinal?Antonio:So close he should by thisBe at our gates.Charles:He'll miss no welcome, and—Perhaps—we shall— (Smiles on them.) Give me that cross you wear,My Fulvia. It may——Antonio:Sir, this is good!We earnestly beseech of you to hearThe Pope's embassador with yielding.Charles:Ah?—But you, boy, draw out of this solitudeAnd musing moodiness. You should think butOn silly sighs and kisses, rhymes and trysts!Must I yet teach your coldness youth?(A trumpet, and sound of opening gates.)Draw out!Antonio:I have to-day desired some words of this.
Antonio:Sir, I'm returned.
Charles:With lightnings that shall—(Sees him.) You?Antonio? My eyes had other thought.Open your news—but mind 'tis not of failure.
Antonio:We seized the murderous robbers in their coveAnd o'er the cliff, as our just law commands,To death flung them.
Charles:So with all traitors be it.
Antonio:So should it.
Charles:Well, 'twas swift. In you there isMore than your mother's gentleness.
Antonio:Else wereMy name di Tocca, sir, and not myself.
Charles:You have my love.—But as you came met youThe cardinal?
Antonio:So close he should by thisBe at our gates.
Charles:He'll miss no welcome, and—Perhaps—we shall— (Smiles on them.) Give me that cross you wear,My Fulvia. It may——
Antonio:Sir, this is good!We earnestly beseech of you to hearThe Pope's embassador with yielding.
Charles:Ah?—But you, boy, draw out of this solitudeAnd musing moodiness. You should think butOn silly sighs and kisses, rhymes and trysts!Must I yet teach your coldness youth?(A trumpet, and sound of opening gates.)Draw out!
Antonio:I have to-day desired some words of this.
EnterCecco.
Charles:Well, who——?Cecco:The Cardinal, your grace.Charles:Then go,And bid our guests. Bring too Diogenes,Our most amusing raveller of allPhilosophies. Say that the duke, his brother,Humbly desires it!(Ceccogoes.Fulvia:And Helena?Charles(toAntonio):Why doYou start, sir?—Fulvia, we must look toThis callow god our son. Yet, had our courtTwo eyes of loveliness to drown his heart,I'd think on oath 'twere done.
Charles:Well, who——?
Cecco:The Cardinal, your grace.
Charles:Then go,And bid our guests. Bring too Diogenes,Our most amusing raveller of allPhilosophies. Say that the duke, his brother,Humbly desires it!(Ceccogoes.
Fulvia:And Helena?
Charles(toAntonio):Why doYou start, sir?—Fulvia, we must look toThis callow god our son. Yet, had our courtTwo eyes of loveliness to drown his heart,I'd think on oath 'twere done.
(Goes to the throne.)
Fulvia(low toAntonio): Listen. No wordOf Helena!Charles:Now! is it secrets?Fulvia:Sir,He scorns to spill a drop of confidenceOn my too thirsty questions.Charles:Does he soTightly seal up his spirits?Fulvia:Put the rogueTo prison on stale bread, my lord: I halfBelieve he's full of treasons.Charles(laughing):Do you hear!Because you are the son and scout our foesJustice is not impossible upon you!
Fulvia(low toAntonio): Listen. No wordOf Helena!
Charles:Now! is it secrets?
Fulvia:Sir,He scorns to spill a drop of confidenceOn my too thirsty questions.
Charles:Does he soTightly seal up his spirits?
Fulvia:Put the rogueTo prison on stale bread, my lord: I halfBelieve he's full of treasons.
Charles(laughing):Do you hear!Because you are the son and scout our foesJustice is not impossible upon you!
The guests enter, among themHæmonandBardas,following theCardinal Julianand his suite, and lastHelena,whomFulvialeads aside.
Cardinal:Peace, worthy duke!Charles:And more, lord Cardinal,We would to-day enlarge our worthinessWith you and with great Rome.Cardinal:Firmly I craveIt may be so.Charles:Here unto all our guestsWe then do disavow our heresies——For faith's as air, as ease to life—and seekAt your absolving lips release from ourRough disobedience. Nor shall we shunThe lash and needed weight of penitence.
Cardinal:Peace, worthy duke!
Charles:And more, lord Cardinal,We would to-day enlarge our worthinessWith you and with great Rome.
Cardinal:Firmly I craveIt may be so.
Charles:Here unto all our guestsWe then do disavow our heresies——For faith's as air, as ease to life—and seekAt your absolving lips release from ourRough disobedience. Nor shall we shunThe lash and needed weight of penitence.
(A murmur of approval.)
Julian:These words, great lord, fall wise and soothing well.Who so confesses, plants beneath his footA step to scale all impotence and wrong.Our royal Pope's conditions shall be told,Pledge them consenting seal and you shall beBriefly and fully free. (Motions his secretary.)Secretary(opens and reads): "Whereas the dukeDi Tocca has offended——"Cardinal:Pass the offence.Be it oblivion's. On, the penalty.Secretary:"Therefore the duke di Tocca humbling himselfMust pay into our vaults two hundred ducats—"Charles:It shall be three.Secretary:"And send a hundred menArmed 'gainst the foes that threaten Italy."Charles:See to it, yes, Antonio, ere a dawn.Secretary:"He must also yield up the princess FulviaWho's fled her father's house and rightful marriage."Fulvia(toJulian): You told me not of this—no word, my lord!Cardinal:My silence as my speech is not my own.Charles:We'll more of it—a measure more.Read on.Secretary:"And for the better amity and wealOf Italy and Christ's most Holy Church,He is enjoined to wed with BeatriceOf Florence. If his wilful boldness grantsObedience, his sins shall melt to restUnder the calm of full forgiveness. He——"Charles:A mild, a courteous, O a modest Pope!I must tear from my happiness a friendWho fled a father's searing cruelty,And cast her back in the flames! And I must bindMy crippled years that fare toward the graveIn the cold clasp of an unloving hand!No! No!Then, sir, and Cardinal, 'tis not enough!I pray you swift again to Rome and pleadMost suppliantly that I for penance maySwear my true son is shame-begot, or lendMy kin to drink clean of its fouling dampSome pestilent prison! And 'tis impious tooThat any still should trust my love. BeseechHis Holiness' command for death upon them!Cardinal: This is your answer?Charles(rises):A mite! a mite of it!The rest is I will wed where I will wedThough every hill of earth raise up its popeTo bellow at me thunderous damnation!I will—I will— (Falls back convulsed.)Fulvia(hastening to him): Charles, ah! Wine for him, wine! (It is brought.)Antonio: Lord Cardinal, spare yourself more and go.You shall learn if a change may loose this strain.
Julian:These words, great lord, fall wise and soothing well.Who so confesses, plants beneath his footA step to scale all impotence and wrong.Our royal Pope's conditions shall be told,Pledge them consenting seal and you shall beBriefly and fully free. (Motions his secretary.)
Secretary(opens and reads): "Whereas the dukeDi Tocca has offended——"
Cardinal:Pass the offence.Be it oblivion's. On, the penalty.
Secretary:"Therefore the duke di Tocca humbling himselfMust pay into our vaults two hundred ducats—"
Charles:It shall be three.
Secretary:"And send a hundred menArmed 'gainst the foes that threaten Italy."
Charles:See to it, yes, Antonio, ere a dawn.
Secretary:"He must also yield up the princess FulviaWho's fled her father's house and rightful marriage."
Fulvia(toJulian): You told me not of this—no word, my lord!
Cardinal:My silence as my speech is not my own.
Charles:We'll more of it—a measure more.Read on.
Secretary:"And for the better amity and wealOf Italy and Christ's most Holy Church,He is enjoined to wed with BeatriceOf Florence. If his wilful boldness grantsObedience, his sins shall melt to restUnder the calm of full forgiveness. He——"
Charles:A mild, a courteous, O a modest Pope!I must tear from my happiness a friendWho fled a father's searing cruelty,And cast her back in the flames! And I must bindMy crippled years that fare toward the graveIn the cold clasp of an unloving hand!No! No!Then, sir, and Cardinal, 'tis not enough!I pray you swift again to Rome and pleadMost suppliantly that I for penance maySwear my true son is shame-begot, or lendMy kin to drink clean of its fouling dampSome pestilent prison! And 'tis impious tooThat any still should trust my love. BeseechHis Holiness' command for death upon them!
Cardinal: This is your answer?
Charles(rises):A mite! a mite of it!The rest is I will wed where I will wedThough every hill of earth raise up its popeTo bellow at me thunderous damnation!I will—I will— (Falls back convulsed.)
Fulvia(hastening to him): Charles, ah! Wine for him, wine! (It is brought.)
Antonio: Lord Cardinal, spare yourself more and go.You shall learn if a change may loose this strain.
(TheCardinalgoes with his suite amid timid reverence.)
Charles(struggling): I will—this frenzy—off my throat—! I— (Recovering.) Ah,Thou, Fulvia? 'Twas as a fiend swung on me.And shame! fear oozes out upon my brow,And I——. (Rises and calms himself.) Forgive, friends, this so sudden wrenchUpon your pleasure. One too quick made saint,Stands feebly: but at once wilt I atone.Where is Diogenes—where is he? HisTangled fantastic wisdom shall divert us.
Charles(struggling): I will—this frenzy—off my throat—! I— (Recovering.) Ah,Thou, Fulvia? 'Twas as a fiend swung on me.And shame! fear oozes out upon my brow,And I——. (Rises and calms himself.) Forgive, friends, this so sudden wrenchUpon your pleasure. One too quick made saint,Stands feebly: but at once wilt I atone.Where is Diogenes—where is he? HisTangled fantastic wisdom shall divert us.
(Diogenes,who has stood unconscious of all that has passed, is pushed forward.)
Ah, peer of Socrates and perfect Plato,Leave your unseeing silence now and tell us——
Ah, peer of Socrates and perfect Plato,Leave your unseeing silence now and tell us——
EnterAgabusgazing anxiously and wildly before him.
Who's this?Agabus(hoarsely): Where went he—the Shadow?—whither?Charles: Who's this broke from his grave upon us?Agabus(searching still):Where?I followed him—he sped and there was cold!Behind him blows a horror!(Stops in fascinated awe beforeHelena.)Ah, on her head!His touch! his earthless finger!—and she rotsTo dust! to dust!Antonio:Ill monk! are there no menThat you must wring a woman so with fear?Agabus:Ha, men? Christ save all men but lovers! all! (Crosses himself.)Charles:Antonio, how speaks he?Antonio:Sir, most madWith the pestilence of evil prophecy.(To guards.) Forth with him!Charles:Stay.Antonio:Let him not, for he willBeguile you to some ravening belief.Agabus(going up toCharles,staring at him in suppressed excitement): A lover! a lover! and he loves in vain!Wilt go? There is a cave—(taking his hand), we'll curse her—come!Charles:Out! out! (Throws him from the dais.)Agabus:Christ save all men but— (Seeking vacantly.) Ah, the Shadow!Has no one seen him? none?—the Shadow? none?(Goes dazed. Guests whisper, awed.Charles:He is obsessed—vile utterly!A Guest:O duke,I pray, good-night.Another:And I, my lord.Another:And I——Another:And——Charles:Friends, you shall not—no. This pall will pass,My hospitality is up, you shall not!Another:Pardon, O duke, we——Charles:Though some grudging windBlows us away from mirth, 'tis still in view,We've lute and dance that yet shall bring us in.1st Lady:O, dance!Charles:Cecco, our Circes from the Nile.(Ceccogoes.2d Lady:The Nile! Ah, Cleopatra's Nile?Charles:Her own;And sinuous as Nile water is their grace.
Who's this?
Agabus(hoarsely): Where went he—the Shadow?—whither?
Charles: Who's this broke from his grave upon us?
Agabus(searching still):Where?I followed him—he sped and there was cold!Behind him blows a horror!(Stops in fascinated awe beforeHelena.)Ah, on her head!His touch! his earthless finger!—and she rotsTo dust! to dust!
Antonio:Ill monk! are there no menThat you must wring a woman so with fear?
Agabus:Ha, men? Christ save all men but lovers! all! (Crosses himself.)
Charles:Antonio, how speaks he?
Antonio:Sir, most madWith the pestilence of evil prophecy.(To guards.) Forth with him!
Charles:Stay.
Antonio:Let him not, for he willBeguile you to some ravening belief.
Agabus(going up toCharles,staring at him in suppressed excitement): A lover! a lover! and he loves in vain!Wilt go? There is a cave—(taking his hand), we'll curse her—come!
Charles:Out! out! (Throws him from the dais.)
Agabus:Christ save all men but— (Seeking vacantly.) Ah, the Shadow!Has no one seen him? none?—the Shadow? none?(Goes dazed. Guests whisper, awed.
Charles:He is obsessed—vile utterly!
A Guest:O duke,I pray, good-night.
Another:And I, my lord.
Another:And I——
Another:And——
Charles:Friends, you shall not—no. This pall will pass,My hospitality is up, you shall not!
Another:Pardon, O duke, we——
Charles:Though some grudging windBlows us away from mirth, 'tis still in view,We've lute and dance that yet shall bring us in.
1st Lady:O, dance!
Charles:Cecco, our Circes from the Nile.(Ceccogoes.
2d Lady:The Nile! Ah, Cleopatra's Nile?
Charles:Her own;And sinuous as Nile water is their grace.
Enter two Egyptian girls, who dance, then go.
Guests(applauding): Bravely!—O, brave!Charles:Do they not whirl it lithe?With limbs like swallow wings upon the blue?1st Lady:'Twas witchery!3d Lady:Such eyes! such hair!2d Lady:And thus,Did Cleopatra thus steal Antony?Wrap him about with motion that would seizeHis senses to an ecstasy? O, oh,To dance so!Charles:And so steal an Antony?We'll frame a law on thieving of men's heart's!2d Lady:Then, vainly! 'tis a theft men like the most.Charles:When in its stead the thief has left her own—But shall we woo no boon of mirth save dance?A lute! a lute! (One is gone for.) Some new lay, Hæmon, come!And every word must dip its syllablesIn Pindar's spring to trip so lightly forth.Hæmon:I have no lay.Charles:The lute! (It is offeredHæmon.)Sing us of loveThat builds a Paradise of kisses, thinksThe Infinite bound up in an embrace.Whose sighs seem to it hurricanes of pain,Whose tears as seas of molten misery.Hæmon:I have none—cannot.Charles:Now will you fright offAgain our timid cheer?Hæmon:While she, my sister—!(The lute is offered again.)I cannot, will not!Charles:Will not? will not? Look!I had an honor pluckt to laurel it,A wreath of noble worth, a thing to tell——Hæmon:Honor upon dishonor sits not well.Charles(not hearing): Heat me not with denial. Is new blissRaised from the dead in me but to fall backAs stone ere it has breathed? Have I so frequentDrained you? Be slow to tempt me—In me movesPeril that has a passion to leap forth!Hæmon:Antonio, speak! Where's innocence and whereBegins deceit?Fulvia(toHæmonaside): Ask it not, or you stepOn waiting hazard and calamity.Charles:New fret? and new confusion? In the blindPower and passing of this night is thereConspiracy?—plot of some here? or ofThat One whose necromancy wields the world?I care not!—I care not! We must have mirth!Have mirth! though it be laughter at damned souls.Hæmon:And I must wake it? I with laugh and lay,Doting upon dishonor?Charles:What means he?Hæmon:Give me again my sister from these walls,Since might is yours, strip from me wealth and lifeAnd more, and all—but let her not, no, no,Meet here the touch and leprosy of shame!Charles(laughing): Said I not, said I, friends, we should have mirth?You shall laugh with me laughter bright as wine.Antonio:But, sir, this is not good for laughter! Sir!Hæmon(toAntonio): Ah, put the lamb on—bleat mock sympathy!Charles(still laughing): Fulvia, O, he foots it in the tracksOf your own fear! and wanders to delusion!Hæmon:Will you laugh at me, fiend!Charles:Boy!Hæmon:Had I butOmnipotence a moment and could dashAnnihilation on you and your race!
Guests(applauding): Bravely!—O, brave!
Charles:Do they not whirl it lithe?With limbs like swallow wings upon the blue?
1st Lady:'Twas witchery!
3d Lady:Such eyes! such hair!
2d Lady:And thus,Did Cleopatra thus steal Antony?Wrap him about with motion that would seizeHis senses to an ecstasy? O, oh,To dance so!
Charles:And so steal an Antony?We'll frame a law on thieving of men's heart's!
2d Lady:Then, vainly! 'tis a theft men like the most.
Charles:When in its stead the thief has left her own—But shall we woo no boon of mirth save dance?A lute! a lute! (One is gone for.) Some new lay, Hæmon, come!And every word must dip its syllablesIn Pindar's spring to trip so lightly forth.
Hæmon:I have no lay.
Charles:The lute! (It is offeredHæmon.)Sing us of loveThat builds a Paradise of kisses, thinksThe Infinite bound up in an embrace.Whose sighs seem to it hurricanes of pain,Whose tears as seas of molten misery.
Hæmon:I have none—cannot.
Charles:Now will you fright offAgain our timid cheer?
Hæmon:While she, my sister—!(The lute is offered again.)I cannot, will not!
Charles:Will not? will not? Look!I had an honor pluckt to laurel it,A wreath of noble worth, a thing to tell——
Hæmon:Honor upon dishonor sits not well.
Charles(not hearing): Heat me not with denial. Is new blissRaised from the dead in me but to fall backAs stone ere it has breathed? Have I so frequentDrained you? Be slow to tempt me—In me movesPeril that has a passion to leap forth!
Hæmon:Antonio, speak! Where's innocence and whereBegins deceit?
Fulvia(toHæmonaside): Ask it not, or you stepOn waiting hazard and calamity.
Charles:New fret? and new confusion? In the blindPower and passing of this night is thereConspiracy?—plot of some here? or ofThat One whose necromancy wields the world?I care not!—I care not! We must have mirth!Have mirth! though it be laughter at damned souls.
Hæmon:And I must wake it? I with laugh and lay,Doting upon dishonor?
Charles:What means he?
Hæmon:Give me again my sister from these walls,Since might is yours, strip from me wealth and lifeAnd more, and all—but let her not, no, no,Meet here the touch and leprosy of shame!
Charles(laughing): Said I not, said I, friends, we should have mirth?You shall laugh with me laughter bright as wine.
Antonio:But, sir, this is not good for laughter! Sir!
Hæmon(toAntonio): Ah, put the lamb on—bleat mock sympathy!
Charles(still laughing): Fulvia, O, he foots it in the tracksOf your own fear! and wanders to delusion!
Hæmon:Will you laugh at me, fiend!
Charles:Boy!
Hæmon:Had I butOmnipotence a moment and could dashAnnihilation on you and your race!
(Throws his glove inAntonio'sface.)