ACT TWO
Scene.—An audience hall in the castle of Charles 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. Enter Charles, who looks around and smiles with subtle content, then summons a servant.
Enter servant.
Charles: The princess Fulvia.
Servant: She comes, sir, now.
(Goes.
Enter Fulvia.
Fulvia: My lord, flowers and vines upon these walls
That seem always in dismal memory
And mist of grief? What means it?
Charles: That sprung up,
A greedy multitude upon the fields,
Citron and olive were left hungry, so
I quelled them!
Fulvia: Magic ever dwells in flowers
To waft me back to childhood. (Taking some.)
Poor pluckt buds
If 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 rest
Within our care: yet has a hope that holds
The 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——?
Enter Helena.
Ah, Greek! Our Fulvia,
Who is as heart and health about our doors,
Has speech for you. And polities
Untended groan for me. (He goes.
Fulvia (looking sadly at her): Girl—child—
Helena: Why do
You call me so with struggle on your breast?
Fulvia: You're very fair.
Helena: And was so free I thought
The 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 think
Or, shapened, see.
Fulvia: It stains too as a shroud
The morrow's face?
Helena: You look at me—I think
You look at me, as if——?
Fulvia: No child.
Helena: Why am
I 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 dread
Brings 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 day
No token, quieting!
Fulvia: Antonio, girl?
Antonio?—Is it true?
Re-enter Charles.
Charles: So eager?—Truth
Has brewed more tears than lies. But, Fulvia,
Why doth it mated with Antonio's name
Wring thus your troubled hands?
Fulvia: My lord——
Charles: You falter?
No matter—now. (To Helena.) But you, my fair one, put
More 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-night
I 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 as
Nought could again be well?
Fulvia: O——
Charles: Now you frown?
Fulvia: The hope you nurse, then, if it prove a pang
Of serpent bitterness——
Charles: Prove pang? I then
But for an "if" must pluck it from me?
Fulvia: So
I must believe.
Charles: Pluck it from me! Will you—
Now will you have me mouth and foam and thresh
The quiet in me to a maelstrom! This
Is mine, this joy; and still is mine, though I
To keep it must bring on me bitterness
And bleeding and—I rage!
Fulvia: Then shall I cease,
And say no more? No, you are on a flood
Whose sinking may be rapid down to horror.
And she—this girl! It has been long since you
Gave license rein upon your will, and spur.
Do not so now.
Charles: License?
Fulvia: She is all morn
And 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 you
I 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, this
White dawn across my turbulence and night,
From license?—Hear me. I have sudden found
A door to let in heaven on my heart.
Had I not laughed to see your dread upon it
Write "license," perilous had been my frown.
Fulvia: You will——?
Charles: Yes—yes! About her brow shall curl
The coronet! Her wishes shall be sceptres
Waving 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 you
Build kingdoms on the wind, and empires on
A girl's ungiven heart?
Charles (slowly): Unto such love
As mine all things are given.
Fulvia: All things but love.
Charles: Stood she not as in pleading? Yes—and to
Her cheeks came hurried roses from her heart.
And her large eyes, did they not drift to mine
Caressing?—yet as if in them they found
The likeness of some visitant dear dream.
Fulvia: The likeness of some dream?
Charles: Question no more.
She is set in the centre of my need
As youth and fiercest passion could not set her.
Supernally as May she has burst on
My 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 avail
Not with her as might charm of equal years
And beauty?
Charles: Then—why then—why there may slip
An avalanche of raging and despair
Out of me! Hope of her once taken, all
The thwarted thunders of my want would rush
Into the void with lightnings for revenge!
Enter Antonio.
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 cove
And 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 is
More than your mother's gentleness.
Antonio: Else were
My name di Tocca, sir, and not myself.
Charles: You have my love.—But as you came met you
The cardinal?
Antonio: So close he should by this
Be 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 hear
The Pope's embassador with yielding.
Charles: Ah?—
But you, boy, draw out of this solitude
And musing moodiness. You should think but
On 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.
Enter Cecco.
Charles: Well, who——?
Cecco: The Cardinal, your grace.
Charles: Then go,
And bid our guests. Bring too Diogenes,
Our most amusing raveller of all
Philosophies. Say that the duke, his brother,
Humbly desires it! (Cecco goes.
Fulvia: And Helena?
Charles (to Antonio): Why do
You start, sir?—Fulvia, we must look to
This callow god our son. Yet, had our court
Two eyes of loveliness to drown his heart,
I'd think on oath 'twere done.
(Goes to the throne.)
Fulvia (low to Antonio): Listen. No word
Of Helena!
Charles: Now! is it secrets?
Fulvia: Sir,
He scorns to spill a drop of confidence
On my too thirsty questions.
Charles: Does he so
Tightly seal up his spirits?
Fulvia: Put the rogue
To prison on stale bread, my lord: I half
Believe he's full of treasons.
Charles (laughing): Do you hear!
Because you are the son and scout our foes
Justice is not impossible upon you!
The guests enter, among them Hæmon and Bardas, following the Cardinal Julian and his suite, and last Helena, whom Fulvia leads aside.
Cardinal: Peace, worthy duke!
Charles: And more, lord Cardinal,
We would to-day enlarge our worthiness
With you and with great Rome.
Cardinal: Firmly I crave
It may be so.
Charles: Here unto all our guests
We then do disavow our heresies——
For faith's as air, as ease to life—and seek
At your absolving lips release from our
Rough disobedience. Nor shall we shun
The 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 foot
A step to scale all impotence and wrong.
Our royal Pope's conditions shall be told,
Pledge them consenting seal and you shall be
Briefly and fully free. (Motions his secretary.)
Secretary (opens and reads): "Whereas the duke
Di Tocca has offended——"
Cardinal: Pass the offence.
Be it oblivion's. On, the penalty.
Secretary: "Therefore the duke di Tocca humbling himself
Must pay into our vaults two hundred ducats—"
Charles: It shall be three.
Secretary: "And send a hundred men
Armed 'gainst the foes that threaten Italy."
Charles: See to it, yes, Antonio, ere a dawn.
Secretary: "He must also yield up the princess Fulvia
Who's fled her father's house and rightful marriage."
Fulvia (to Julian): 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 weal
Of Italy and Christ's most Holy Church,
He is enjoined to wed with Beatrice
Of Florence. If his wilful boldness grants
Obedience, his sins shall melt to rest
Under the calm of full forgiveness. He——"
Charles: A mild, a courteous, O a modest Pope!
I must tear from my happiness a friend
Who fled a father's searing cruelty,
And cast her back in the flames! And I must bind
My crippled years that fare toward the grave
In the cold clasp of an unloving hand!
No! No!
Then, sir, and Cardinal, 'tis not enough!
I pray you swift again to Rome and plead
Most suppliantly that I for penance may
Swear my true son is shame-begot, or lend
My kin to drink clean of its fouling damp
Some pestilent prison! And 'tis impious too
That any still should trust my love. Beseech
His 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 wed
Though every hill of earth raise up its pope
To 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.
(The Cardinal goes 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 wrench
Upon your pleasure. One too quick made saint,
Stands feebly: but at once wilt I atone.
Where is Diogenes—where is he? His
Tangled 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——
Enter Agabus gazing 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 before Helena.)
Ah, on her head!
His touch! his earthless finger!—and she rots
To dust! to dust!
Antonio: Ill monk! are there no men
That 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 mad
With the pestilence of evil prophecy.
(To guards.) Forth with him!
Charles: Stay.
Antonio: Let him not, for he will
Beguile you to some ravening belief.
Agabus (going up to Charles, 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 wind
Blows 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.
(Cecco goes.
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 seize
His 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 syllables
In Pindar's spring to trip so lightly forth.
Hæmon: I have no lay.
Charles: The lute! (It is offered Hæmon.)
Sing us of love
That builds a Paradise of kisses, thinks
The 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 off
Again 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 bliss
Raised from the dead in me but to fall back
As stone ere it has breathed? Have I so frequent
Drained you? Be slow to tempt me—In me moves
Peril that has a passion to leap forth!
Hæmon: Antonio, speak! Where's innocence and where
Begins deceit?
Fulvia (to Hæmon aside): Ask it not, or you step
On waiting hazard and calamity.
Charles: New fret? and new confusion? In the blind
Power and passing of this night is there
Conspiracy?—plot of some here? or of
That 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 life
And 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 (to Antonio): Ah, put the lamb on—bleat mock sympathy!
Charles (still laughing): Fulvia, O, he foots it in the tracks
Of your own fear! and wanders to delusion!
Hæmon: Will you laugh at me, fiend!
Charles: Boy!
Hæmon: Had I but
Omnipotence a moment and could dash
Annihilation on you and your race!
(Throws his glove in Antonio's face.)
Helena: Hæmon!
Fulvia (restraining her): No, Helena.
Charles: Omnipotence?
And could Omnipotence make such a fool?
There must be two Gods in the world to do it.
Hæmon: She shall not——!
(Attempts to kill Helena.)
Antonio (preventing): Fury!—Ah! what would you do?
Charles: Such things can be? A sister, yet he strikes? (Hæmon is seized.)
Helena: O let me speak with him, sir, let me speak!
Charles: Not now, girl, no, not now—lest in his breath
Be venom for thee! (To soldiers.) Shut him from our gates
Till he repent this fever.
(Hæmon goes quietly out.)
(To guests who are suspicious and undetermined.) If you stare so
Will the skies stop! Have I not arm in arm
Friended this youth and meant him honor still?
Leave me. I had a thing to tell; but it
Must wait more seasonable festivity.
(To Paula.) See to thy mistress, child. Antonio, stay.
(All go but Antonio and Charles, who leaves his chair slowly and with dejection.)
Antonio: Father——
Charles (unheeding): Did I not humble me?
Antonio: Father——?
Charles: Or ask more than a brevity of joy
To bud on my life's withering close?
Antonio: But, sir——!
Charles: If it bud not——!
Antonio: What thought impels and wrings
These angers from your eyes?
Charles (slowly, gazing at him): You're like your mother.
Antonio: In trouble for your peace, more than in feature.
Charles: Peace—peace? Antonio, a dream has come:
To stir—to wake—to learn it is a dream—
I must not, will not look on such abyss.
You love me, boy?
Antonio: Sir, well: you cannot doubt it.
Charles: There has been darkness in me—and it seems
Such night as would put out a heaven of hope,
Quench an eternity of flaming joy!
I have sunk down under the world and hit
On nethermost despair: flown blind across
An infinite unrest!
Antonio: Forget it, now.
Charles: Had I drunk Lethe's all 'twould not have stilled
The crying of my desolation's want.
Within me tenderness to iron turned,
Gladness to worm and gloom.—But 'tis o'erpast.
A rift, a smile, a breath has come—blown me
From torture to an ecstasy.
Antonio: To——?
Charles: Ecstasy!
Such as surrounds Hyperion on his sun,
Or Pleiads sweeping seven-fold the night.
Antonio: And you—this breath——?
Charles: Is—you are pale!
And press your lips from trembling!
Antonio: No—yes—well—
This ecstasy?
Charles: Is love! is love that— How?
You feign! distress and groaning tear in you!
Antonio: No. She you love——
Charles: O, Eve new-burst on Eden,
All pure with the prime beauty of God's breath,
Was not so!
Antonio: She is Helena?—the Greek?
Charles: She—Still you do not ail?—Yes, Helena,
Who—But you are not well and cannot share
This ravishment!—I will not ask it—now.
This ravishment!—Ah, she has stayed the tread
And stilled the whispering of death: has called
Echoes of youth from me! and all I feared....
I think—you are not well. Shall we go in?