University of Virginia Library

Scene IV.

—The Sea-shore near Palermo.—Silisco and Ruggiero.
Silisco.
With what a saucy, blithe, and buxom grace
She breasts the blushing waters. Fare thee well,
Thou good ship Maddelena. Welcome home,
Thou good ship Zita.

Ruggiero.
But the wind that speeds
That outward-bound, baffles this homeward bark;
She cannot cross the bar; and what is that?
Look there—a boat is pushing from her side
To bring her charge ashore.

Silisco.
The richest freight
That ever Procida produced, they say,
This Countess is—heiress to all the wealth
Of old Ubaldo. Is she fair beside?

Ruggiero.
Indeed she is.

Silisco.
As fair as she that comes
In her fair company?

Ruggiero.
As Fiordeliza?
In my allegiance, I must answer, No;
Yet each is in her kind supremely fair.

Silisco.
Thou painter, poet, moralist, what not?
Show me their pictures—say them, sing them, paint them.

Ruggiero.
Painting is perilous when the proof is near;
Yet take, to pass the time, some rude attempt.

Silisco.
First for the island Countess.

Ruggiero.
First for her:
In the rich fulness of a rounded grace,
Noble of stature, with an inward life
Of secret joy sedate, Rosalba stands,
As seeing and not knowing she is seen,
Like a majestic child, without a want.
She speaks not often, but her presence speaks,
And is itself an eloquence, which withdrawn,
It seems as though some strain of music ceased
That fill'd till then the palpitating air
With soft pulsations; when she speaks indeed,
'Tis like some one voice eminent in the choir,
Heard from the midst of many sweetly clear,
With thrilling singleness, yet just accord.
So heard, so seen, she moves upon the earth
Unknowing that the joy she ministers
Is aught but Nature's sunshine.

Silisco.
Call you this
The picture of a woman or a Saint?
When Cimabue next shall figure forth
The hierarchies of heaven, we'll give him this
To copy from. But said you, then, the other
Was fairer still than this?

Ruggiero.
I may have said it;
I should have said she's fairer in my sight.
Yet must mine eyes be something worse than blind
And see the thing that is not, if the hand
Of Nature was not lavish of delights
When she was fashion'd. But it were not well
To blazon her too much; for mounted thus
In your esteem, she might not hold her place,
But fall the farther for the fancied rise.
For she has faults, Silisco, she has faults;
And when you see them you may think them worse
Than I, who know, or think I know, their scope.
She gives her moods the mastery, and flush'd
With quickenings of a wild and wayward wit,
Flits like a firefly in a tangled wood,
Restless, capricious, careless, hard to catch,
Though beautiful to look at.

Silisco.
By my faith
She's a wild growth, to judge her by her fruits,
For she torments you vilely. Prudent friend,
Rosalba being what you say, why fix
Your heart on Fiordeliza?

Ruggiero.
Wherefore? why?
When hearts are told by number, weight, and measure,
I'll render you a reason for my love;
Till then, I say it was my luck to love her;
Ill luck or good, I know not yet. For you,
I would it were your luck to love Rosalba,
So you might wed her; but the rumour is
That she is brought from Procida to be given
To old Count Ugo.

Silisco.
Good old man, he's welcome;
A simpler-hearted creature never lived
To put on spectacles and see the world
Grow wise and honest, and I wish him joy.
And I will take example by him too
And marry when I'm seventy; and till then
I'll live as heretofore and take delight
In God's creation revell'd in at large
And not this work or that.

Ruggiero.
So do; 'tis best
So long as it suffices. See how fast
The light skiff shoots along; a few pulls more
Shall bring them in.

Silisco.
Now show me which ... oh! she
In the red scarf is Fiordeliza.

Ruggiero.
Yes;
They know me now and kiss their hands. At first
You'll think Rosalba fairer.

Silisco.
By my faith
If what I there behold be flesh and blood
Nature can fashion counterfeits of Saints
More cunningly than you; in Nature's right
My hasty commendation I recall
And say your picture was as cold as clay
And colour'd from the vapours of the north.

Ruggiero.
Easy your oars, good coxswain! way enough!
A thousand welcomes! Ladies, if the hearts
That leap to meet you.....

Silisco.
Make you footing sure;
Jump out my lads and steady her ... there .... so.

Enter, landing from the boat, Ubaldo, Rosalba, and Fiordeliza, with sailors and attendants.
Ruggiero.
Oh my good Lord, the King has miss'd you much.

Ubaldo.
Has he, Sir, truly? well, he's kind; but we
That will have children, are enforced at times,
Losing the courtier's in the father's office,
To dance attendance on a chit like this.
Bring the goods after. To the palace; come.

Fiordeliza.
Kind ocean, fare thee well! I would that earth
Demean'd herself no worse. I'll stamp upon her.

Ruggiero.
What is your quarrel, Lady, with the earth,
Are not her titles equal to the ocean's?

Fiordeliza.
The earth breeds men, Sir, but the ocean fish.

Ubaldo.
Rosalba, are you lost? Come on, come on.
I crave your pardon, Sir, I should have known you;
My Lord of Malespina, if I err not;
In health, I hope, Sir? Ah, Sir! youth and strength—
We prize them when they're gone; we prize them then.

Silisco.
I thank you, Sir, I thank you; I am well;
I wish you a good voyage.

Ubaldo.
God be praised,
Our voyage, which was very good, is done.
This way, child; are you dreaming? Sir, sometimes
When duty calls you to the palace, think
Of the old Chamberlain; in sooth, my Lord,
We shall most gladly greet you. Fare you well.

[Exeunt all but Silisco.
Silisco.
I answer'd like an idiot. So I felt;
Doubtless so look'd. Can I not lose my heart
But I must lose my understanding too?
Count Ugo! He's a gallant light and gay
To what I seem'd—a very dullard I,
If not a dotard. Can a man so change
In less than fifty years, and be himself
And yet withal belie the self he was
An hour—a minute, I might say—before?
But we shall meet again—perhaps to-morrow—
And I'll shake off the stupor of to-day
And be my better self. To-morrow! yes—
I am not in my nature what I seem'd—
That all Palermo's tongues will testify—
And there is that within me springing now
Shall testify it better. Hope and Joy,
My younger sisters, you have never yet
Been parted from my side beyond the breadth
Of a slim sunbeam, and you never shall;
Already it is loosen'd, it is gone,—
The cloud, the mist; across the vale of life
The rainbow rears its soft triumphal arch
And every roving path and brake and bower
Is bathed in colour'd light. Come what come may
I know this world is richer than I thought
By something left to it from paradise;
I know this world is brighter than I thought,
Having a window into heaven. Henceforth
Life has for me a purpose and a drift.