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The Sicilian Vespers

An Historical Tragedy
  
  
  

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ACT IV.
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ACT IV.

SCENE.—A Hall of Audience.
Leanthe enters.
LEANTHE.
He follows me. Where shall I hide me from him!

Loridan enters.
LORIDAN.
Is it from me you fly?

LEANTHE.
Avoid me—leave me!
Reproach me not to torture and distract me.

LORIDAN.
Dare I reproach you?—Dare I call Leanthe
Ungrateful, perjured, vilest of dissemblers,

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Making of all things sacred but the fence
Of vile imposture. Speak! nor let me longer
Stand doubtful of the ruin tottering o'er me;
But loose and let it fall.

LEANTHE.
What wouldst thou ask?

LORIDAN.
What! Thou art mine!—mine to adore thy truth,
Or follow with a husband's wrath thy falsehood!
Thou hast betrayed me, given me o'er to shame,
To triumph in my fall and wed my rival.
That paper which I sent thee to relieve
Thy fears, amid the shock of dreadful things,
Thou gavest to Montfort!—

LEANTHE.
No; I gave it not.

LORIDAN.
Not gave it?

LEANTHE.
Nor could I believe it thine.

LORIDAN.
You stir the mortal weight upon my heart.
If I have erred, 'twas in by boundless passion.
All stings and taunts high natures turn against
His anger tried me with. I feared to lose thee:
Say still thou art mine. Oh! yet in mercy leave me
A ray of hope, and patiently I'll bear—
Nay, bless my penance.

LEANTHE.
Thou hast nought to fear;
Montfort will do thee justice. But of me,
Think never, never more!

LORIDAN.
You trifle still!
Pronounce my doom.


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LEANTHE.
I dare not.

LORIDAN.
Then you have.
Come, out with all,—fear not a sentenced culprit.
Your pity mastered you, and you confessed—

LEANTHE.
I know not what. If that relentless heart
Know nought but vengeance, desperately I meet it.
He was too noble to have been thy victim:
I saved him!—ask not how! Pour thy hot wrath—
I am dishonoured for thy plighted bride—
And let it fall. Spare not! Call down the thunder!
Rail till you shake my brain and all's forgotten.

LORIDAN.
And thinkest thou thus to move me? Witness, Heaven;
There's not a saint thy piety invokes
Has been the martyr to his faith that I am:
But not to suffer with a saintly patience.
Hear me! Nay, start not. Live till life be loathsome!
Thy country's malediction follow thee!
And may the man who made thee what thou art,
Like thee be fickle, and like thee be perjured,
Till thy heart writhe with every jealous pang
That now wrings mine!—then mock each fond caress
With icy scorn, and smile upon thy madness!
Such be thy wedded joys!

LEANTHE.
I'll wed with no man.

LORIDAN.
Thou shalt not! So 'twere best. That guilt I'll save thee.
Pray for thy Montfort.

LEANTHE.
Darest thou threaten still!
His truth defies thee, as his mercy shields thee.
Repent thee! Live, and let me die in peace.

[Exit.

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LORIDAN.
I know thee now—and thou hast proved the woman!
He who hath so far won thee may possess thee.
Possess thee! No; my sword is left me still,
And now let justice guide it.

Procida enters.
PROCIDA.
Now, my son, speak uncontroll'd.

LORIDAN.
Where's Gaston?

PROCIDA.
Where he'll trouble us no more.
I bad thee hope. My heart was resolute.
With specious preface of a vast disclosure,
I led him where the western colonnade
In solitude o'erlooks the sea. Just then
A boat sailed full before us, and conveyed
Deserters from our band. Behold! he cried,
The traitors will escape us! 'Twas the moment!
I stopped his clamours with a lion's gripe,
And plunged my dagger in his heart. The cowards
Beheld me as I hurl'd him down the steep;
And making signs of renovated hope
Put back to join us. I expect'em. Rouse thee!

LORIDAN.
Ay! for a deed like thine. E'en such a tale
I would have heard;—it fills my soul with envy.
Now shalt thou find me worthy of my father;
Stern, savage, pitiless, as thou wouldst have me;
Ripe for a scene of giant desolation.

Enter Salviati.
SALVIATI.
Amazed and breathless have I hastened hither!
What sight have I beheld? Are ye then free!


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PROCIDA.
Our sentinel hath toppled from his post;
And we are free, if we dare use our freedom.
Few moments now remain for qualms and tremors.
List to me, both; for both are yet to learn
Repentance and retreat are barred against us.
The watchword has gone forth in every street,
Where my arrest will ne'er be known or heeded.
'Tis fixed the vesper bell commands the onset:
And sound it will though we be deaf to it.
The fateful hour advances. Through the city
Ten thousand listeners eagerly await
The signal that unsheaths ten thousand swords,
Gives breath to sixteen years of groaning wrong
In shouts of vengeance; and each languid arm,
With sloth and want half withered, and decayed
Beneath the spell of ruthless tyranny,
Nerves to the work of bloody retribution!
Our stauncher friends, who scorned in panic haste,
Like you, to fly, my trusty follower,
By secret entrance, known to me alone,
Have now assembled in the western hall.
Where are your run-aways?

SALVIATI.
With wonder seized
At such a deed as thine, when all seem'd lost,
They wait without; though still some craven spirits
Would sue for Montfort's mercy.

PROCIDA.
Haste and meet them!
Say, I would have a word with them ere yet
They stain their names for ever. Lead them freely
On to the western hall. None there will heed us.
Be prompt, and Sicily may yet be free.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II.

A Hall open to the city.—Gleams of moonlight. Conspirators discovered on the watch.
ALL.
Procida! Procida!


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Enter Salviati, Fondi, D'Aquila, and other Nobles and Conspirators; Procida and Loridan on the opposite side.
PROCIDA.
Welcome, right welcome, all! Some guard the avenues.
Draw round me. Say! do I meet friends or renegades?
Brief time is left us. I am pledged in blood
For your success. Be martyrs or avengers:
The choice is still your own. Salviati, speak!

SALVIATI.
I cannot. We are a disordered crowd.
Whate'er thy steadfast soul dare yet expect
Disunion and alarm will now, I fear,
Forbid to put in act. It is too late.

PROCIDA.
Too late! It is the moment! Seize it boldly.
Gaston, St. Clair, and with them every danger
Of new surprise is far removed from us.
And are there falterers among ye still?
I have staked all; and by a daring deed
Here we are masters, till resolved once more
We rush abroad, even from the spot we stand on,
To consummate our work, to win our freedom.
Be firm; be rulers of the land ye live in.
Recall your cause, and let it shame your fears.
'Tis not to change one tyrant for another,—
In humbling one, 'tis to instruct them all—
'Tis to be free! respected of ourselves,
And claim for Sicily, be king who may,
Man's equitable rights, secured and chartered.
This is the hope to which you would oppose
The chance, the desperate chance, of abject safety.

D'AQUILA.
Let Villanelli speak.

SALVIATI.
He's not among us.

FONDI.
Not here!


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SALVIATI.
Nay, never doubt him. He has been
Too openly the Viceroy's advocate
To harbour treachery. He and others think
Montfort will be the friend of Sicily.

PROCIDA.
Corrupt her friends! Rivet her chains past hope!

LORIDAN.
Behold his mortal foe,—stained with his friendship,
Wrong'd by his treachery. By me he falls!
I swear it.

PROCIDA.
Let him thus atone to Sicily.
The dazzling conqueror pants but for renown;
Ardent alone to make his king new victims,
He'll leave yon shallow rebels to his mercy—
His mercy, his who hath abandoned us
To all the licence of his robber bands
To keep them staunch, as huntsmen throw their dogs
The offal of their prey. Think ye to gain
His confidence? There's not a man of you
Shall see the natural term of his career.
His fears shall set a mark upon ye all,
And on the morrow of some sleepless night
He'll sacrifice you one by one, to soothe
The slumbers of his next. Will you die thus,
Or stand by those who have staked all for you?

MARIO.
Is there yet hope?—

PROCIDA.
Hope! never was there more.
—But that I used the moments yet our own
To stir in ye the bravery of hope,
Not desperation, I had spared this parley.
Their late alarms my bondage will have hushed;
It came too late. The springs of our design
Have now their impulse, and the work will on.
It was allotted me to spread our purpose,

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And marshal the assault, with all dispatch,
Through the close-linked confederacy. 'Tis done!
They seized me as I hastened to report it;
Destruction stands bare-weaponed for her work,
And but awaits her signal, which all hearts
Are swelling to obey. Will ye shrink now?

D'AQUILA.
'Tis plain we cannot!

PROCIDA.
If you do,
You are the worst of traitors!—Sacrifice
Your lives like idiots,—cheat the people's fury,
Which shall o'erwhelm, like the red waves of Etna,
Tenfold their foes, if you betray them not
To panic and confusion; and disgrace
A cause which Fortune has proclaimed her own!

SALVIATI.
We shall succeed.

D'AQUILA.
I am resolved.

FONDI.
And I.

LORIDAN.
Then we are all resolved!—

ALL.
All, all!

SALVIATI.
We wait the signal—

PROCIDA.
Ay, the vesper bell,
The knoll of tyranny!—a sound shall waken
The gratitude of ages free and happy.
Fate urges—and but waited that resolve
Which now encircles me with steadfast hearts!

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See! the bright moon-beam on the dial shews
We touch upon the moment! Firmly, then,
And hopefully commend your swords to Heaven!
(The bell sounds.)
It sounds! Draw now, for Sicily and freedom!

ALL.
For Sicily and freedom!

PROCIDA.
Each man knows
His post!

LORIDAN.
My victim's here—I've sworn it!

PROCIDA.
Trust him! (A shout.)
Away! (To Loridan.)
We meet in Mainfroy's palace.


[Exeunt Procida and Conspirators.
LORIDAN.
Ah! shall I rush upon his privacy,
And stab him like a bravo! No! those laws—
Those sacred laws of chivalry he taught me,
Bid me disdain it. I'll await him here,
Equipp'd for combat. Ha! he comes—unarm'd!
Death to my hopes!

Enter Montfort, in disorder.
MONTFORT.
What is this uproar? Whence
The signs of death I have beheld? Where's Gaston?

LORIDAN.
Approach me not!

MONTFORT.
What mean you?

LORIDAN.
Hence!—avoid me!


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MONTFORT.
What should I fear?

LORIDAN.
I have sworn to kill thee!

MONTFORT
(presenting himself.)
Strike!

LORIDAN.
He palsies me. (inward struggle.)


MONTFORT.
If thou believ'st disloyally I've wrong'd thee,
Convince thee at the bottom of my heart!

LORIDAN.
I am unmann'd. Thy genius is the stronger.
I thought I hated thee; yet are thy foes
Many and desperate! (Shout.)
Hark! the storm is up.

Rebellion rages, and its cause is mine.

MONTFORT.
Rebellion!—Let me fly!

LORIDAN.
Hold! thou art unarm'd!
(Giving his sword.)
This was thy gift, and was to win me honour;
Take it again!—die like a soldier—go!
If in the strife we meet, we meet as foes!

MONTFORT.
Agreed! And for thy gift we part as friends.

(Offers his hand, Loridan takes it, much affected.)
LORIDAN.
Brave heart, away! Our arms are now at issue—
Thine for thy King, and for my country mine!

[Exeunt severally.
END OF ACT IV.