University of Virginia Library

FRA RUPERT.

MALE CHARACTERS.

• Urban, Pope.
• Butello, his nephew.
• Charles II., of Durazzo.
• Otho, husband of Giovanna.
• Fra Rupert.
• Maximin.
• Stephen, a shepherd.
• Herald.
• Page.
• Monk.
• Chancellor.
• High Steward.
• Lord Chamberlain.
• Counsellors, Secretaries, Officers, Soldiers.

FEMALE CHARACTERS.

• Giovanna, Queen.
• Margarita, her niece, wife of Charles.
• Agnes of Durazzo.
• Agatha, sister of Maximin.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

VATICAN. Urban. Durazzo.
Urban.
Charles of Durazzo! I have found thee worthy
To wear not only ducal coronet,
But in that potent, in that faithful hand,
To wield the royal sceptre.

Durazzo.
Holy father!
I am half-ready to accept the charge,
When it befalls me, studying your content.

Urban.
So be it. The crown of Naples is now vacant.

Durazzo.
Good heavens! is then my mother (let me call her
Even my mother, by whose bounteousness
My fortunes grew, my youth was educated)
Giovanna! is she dead?

Urban.
To virtuous deeds,
Like those, she long hath been so.

Durazzo.
His Beatitude,
The predecessor of your Holiness,
Who through her hands received his resting-place
At Avignon, when Italy rebell'd,
Absolved her from that heavy accusation
Her enemy the Hungarian brought against her.

Urban.
I would not make Infallibility
Fallible, nor cross-question the absolved,
I merely would remove that stumbling-block
The kingdom from her.

Durazzo.
Let another then
Aid such attempt.

Urban.
Anoter shall.

Durazzo.
Another
Nearer in blood is none.

Urban.
Ere long, Durazzo,
I may look round and find one, if not nearer
In blood, yet fitter to perform the duties
Imposed on him by me.

Durazzo.
None, holy father!
Is fitter.

Urban.
Easy then are the conditions.
I would not place Butello, my own nephew,
Altho' deserving, and altho' besought
By many of the Neapolitans,
By many of the noble and the powerful
In every city of that realm, not him,
Durazzo! would I place, against thy interests,
So high. But haply from thy gratitude
Accept I might in his behalf a dukedom
Or petty principality, dependent
Upon our See or (may-be) independent;
For there are some who fain would have things so.
We must content the nations of the earth,
Whom we watch over, and who look to us
For peace and quiet in the world we rule.
Why art thou beating time so with thy foot
At every word I speak? why look so stern
And jerk thy head and rest thy hand on hip?
Thou art determin'd on it, art not thou?

Durazzo.
I can not, will not, move her from her seat,
So help me, God!

Urban.
Impious young man! reflect!
I give thee time; I give thee all to-morrow.

SCENE II.

A STREET IN NAPLES. Maximin. Agatha.
Agatha.
(to herself).
'Twas he! 'twas father Rupert.

Maximin
(overhearing).
Well! what then?
What wouldst thou with him? thou must wait his leisure:
I have some business first with father Rupert.

Agatha
(gazing anxiously).
Can it be? can it be?

Maximin.
Have not men sins
As well as women? have not we our shrivers,
Our scourers, soderers, calkers, and equippers?

Agatha
(embracing him).
Forbear! O, for the love of God, forbear!
Heed him not, Maximin! or he will cast
Thy soul into perdition; he has mine.

Maximin.
And who art thou, good woman?

Agatha.
That fair name
Is mostly given with small courtesy,
As something tost at us indifferently
Or scornfully by higher ones. Thy sister
Was what thou callest her; and Rupert knows it.

Maximin.
My sister? how! I had but Agatha.
Agatha!

Agatha.
Maximin! we have not met
Since that foul day whose damps fell not on thee,
But fill'd our father's house while thou wert absent.
Thou, brother! brother! couldst not save my peace,
Let me save thine. He used to call me daughter,
And he may call thee son.

Maximin.
The very word!
He began fathering early: seven years old
At most was father Rupert. Holy names
Are covered ways. .

Agatha.
. . To most unholy deeds.

Maximin.
I see it; say no more: my sword is reddening
With blood that runs not yet, but soon shall run.

Agatha.
Talk not thus loud, nor thus, nor here.

Maximin.
Cross then
Over the way to that old sycamore;
The lads have left off playing at pallone.
I found out long ago his frauds, his treasons,
His murders; and he meditates a worse.
Agatha! let me look into thine eyes,
Try to be glad to see me: lift them up,
Nay, do not drop them, they are gems to me,
And make me very rich with only looking.
Thou must have been most fair, my Agatha!
And yet I am thy brother! Who would think it?

Agatha.
Nor time nor toil deforms man's countenance,
Crime only does it: 'tis not thus with ours.
Kissing the seven nails burnt in below
Thy little breast, before they well had healed,
I thought thee still more beautiful with them.

Maximin.
Those precious signs might have done better for me.

Agatha.
Only the honest are the prosperous.

Maximin.
A little too on that side hath slipt off.

Agatha.
Recover it.

Maximin.
How can I?

Agatha.
Save the innocent.

Maximin.
But whom?

Agatha.
Giovanna.

Maximin.
Is the queen in danger?

Agatha.
Knowest thou not?

Maximin.
Hide we away our knowledge;
It may do harm by daylight. I stand sentry
In many places at one time, and wink,
But am not drowsy. Trust me, she is safe.
And thou art then our Agatha! 'Twould do
Our mother good, were she alive, to find thee;
For her last words were, “Agatha, where art thou?”

Agatha.
Oh! when our parents sorrow for our crimes,
Then is the sin complete.

Maximin.
She sorrows not,
And 'tis high time that thou should'st give it over.

Agatha.
Alas! our marrow, sinews, veins, dry up,
But not our tears; they start with infancy,
Run on through life, and swell against the grave.

Maximin.
I must now see Fra Rupert. Come thou after.
He shall admit thee. Pelt him with reproaches,
Then will I . .

Agatha.
Brother! not for these came I,
But to avert one crime from his o'erladen
Devoted head. He hath returned . .

Maximin.
. . To join
Giovanna with Andrea? On with me:
We may forbid the banns a second time,
Urging perhaps a few impediments.
He hath been in some convent o'er the hill,
Doing sad penance on Calabrian rye,
How then couldst thou have heard about him? how
Find he was here in Naples?

Agatha.
There he should
And may have been: of late he was in Buda.

Maximin.
You met in Buda then?

Agatha.
Not met.

Maximin.
How know
His visit else, if he was there indeed?

Agatha.
While thou and Stephen Stourdza tended sheep
Together, I was in our mother's sight,
And mostly in her chamber; for ill-health
Kept her from work. Often did Father Rupert
Pray by her, often hear her long confession,
Long, because little could be thought of for it.
“Now what a comfort would it be to you,
If this poor child read better,” said the friar,
“To listen while she read how blessed saints
Have suffered, and how glorious their reward.”
My mother claspt her hands, and “What a comfort!”
Echoed from her sick bosom.
“Hath she been
Confirm'd?” he askt. “Yea, God be prais'd,” sigh'd she.
“We may begin then to infuse some salt
Into this leaven,” said the friar, well-pleas'd.
“The work is righteous: we will find spare hours.”
She wept for joy.

Maximin.
Weep then (if weep at all)
Like her.

Agatha.
Religious tracts soon tost aside,
Florentine stories and Sicilian song
Were buzz'd into my ears. The songs much pleas'd me,
The stories (these he cull'd out from the book,
He told me, as the whole was not for maids)
Pleas'd me much less; for woman's faults were there.

Maximin.
He might have left out half the pages, still
The book had been a bible in its bulk
If all were there.

Agatha.
To me this well applies,
Not to my sex.

Maximin.
Thou art the best in it.
Those who think ill of woman, hold the tongue
Thro' shame, or ignorance of what to say,
Or rifle the old ragbag for some shard
Spotted and stale. On, prythee, with thy story.

Agatha.
He taught me that soft speech, the only one
For love; he taught me to repeat the words
Most tender in it; to observe his lips
Pronouncing them; and his eyes scorcht my cheek
Into deep scarlet. With his low rich voice
He sang the sadness of the laurel'd brow,
The tears that trickle on the rocks around
Valchiusa. “None but holy men can love
As thou, Petrarca!” sighed he at the close.
Graver the work he brought me next. We read
The story of Francesca.

Maximin.
What is that?

Agatha.
Piteous, most piteous, for most guilty, passion.
Two lovers are condemn'd to one unrest
For ages. I now first knew poetry,
I had known song and sonnet long before:
I sail'd no more amid the barren isles,
Each one small self; the mighty continent
Rose and expanded; I was on its shores.
Fast fell the drops upon the page: he chided:
“And is it punishment to be whirl'd on
With our beloved thro' eternity?”
“Oh! they were too unhappy, too unhappy!”
Sobb'd I aloud: “Who could have written this?”
“Tenderest of tender maids!” cried he, and claspt me
To his hot breast. Fear seiz'd me, faintness, shame.
Be calm, my brother!

Maximin.
Tell then other tale,
And skip far on.

Agatha.
The queen Elizabeth
Heard of me at the nunnery where I served;
And the good abbess, not much loving one
Who spoke two languages and read at night,
Persuaded her that, being quick and needy,
'Twould be by far more charitable in her
To take me rather than some richer girl,
To read by her, and lace her sandals on.
I serv'd her several years, to her content.
One evening after dusk, her closet-door
Being to me at every hour unclosed,
I was just entering, when some voice like his,
Whispering, but deep, struck me: a glance sufficed:
'Twas he. They neither saw me. Now occurr'd
That lately had Elizabeth said more
And worse against Giovanna. “She might be
Guiltless, but should not hold the throne of Naples
From the sweet child her daughter: there were some
Who had strong arms, and might again do better
In cowl than fiercer spirits could in casque.”
Sleepless was I that night, afraid to meet
The wretched man, afraid to join the queen.
Early she rose, as usual; earlier I.
My sunken eyes and paleness were remarkt,
And, whence? was askt me.
“Those who have their brothers
At Naples,” I replied, “most gracious lady,
May well be sleepless; for rebellion shakes
A throne unsteady ever.”
First she paus'd,
Then said, with greater blandness than before,
“Indeed they may. But between two usurpers
What choice? Your brother may improve his fortune
By loyalty, and teaching it. You wish
To join him I see clearly, for his good;
It may be yours: it may be ours: go then,
Aid him with prudent counsel: the supply
Shall not be wanting, secrecy must not.”
She urged my parting: the same hour we parted.

SCENE III.

RUPERT'S CELL. Rupert. Maximin.
Rupert.
Thou hast delaid some little, Maximin.

Maximin.
Frate! I met a woman in the street,
And she might well delay me: guess now why.

Rupert.
Who in the world can guess the why of women?

Maximin.
She said she knew us both in Hungary.

Rupert.
I now suspect the person: she is crazed.

Maximin.
Well may she be, deprived of such a friend.

Rupert.
No friend was ever mine in that false sex.
I am impatient, Maximin.

Maximin.
Impatient!
And so am I. (Maximin throws open the door, and Agatha enters.)

Knowest thou this woman, Frate?

Rupert.
Art thou crazed too? I know her? Not at all.

Maximin.
And hast thou never known her? never toucht her?
I only mean in giving her thy blessing.

Rupert.
A drunken sailor in a desert isle
Would not approach her.

Maximin
(indignant).
Not my sister?

Agatha.
Scorner!
Insulter! (Aside.)

He may have forgotten. Can he?
He did not see me, would not look at me.

Maximin.
My sword shall write her name upon thy midrif.
Prepare!

Agatha.
Hold! hold! Spare him yet, Maximin!
How could I . . and the man who . .

Maximin.
Speak it out,
Worthless one!

Agatha.
I am worthless. Let him live!
Oh let him live!

Maximin.
Thou lovest thy betrayer.

Agatha.
The once beloved are unestranged by falsehood;
They can not wholly leave us, tho' they leave us
And never look behind.

Maximin.
Wild! wild as hawk!

Rupert
(on his knees).
Vision of light, of love, of purity!
Dost thou revisit on the verge of earth
A soul so lost, to rescue it? Enough,
Agatha! Do not ask him for my life;
No, bid him slay me; bid him quench the days
That have in equal darkness set and risen
Since proud superiors banisht faithful love.
I am grown old; few years are left me, few
And sorrowful: my reason comes and goes:
I am almost as capable of crimes
As virtues.

Maximin.
By my troth, a hundred-fold
More capable.

Rupert.
Both ('tis Heaven's will) are over.
Here let me end my hours: they should have all
Been thine; he knows it; let him take them for thee;
And close thou here mine eyes where none behold,
Forgiving me . . no, not forgiving me,
But praying, thou pure soul! for Heaven's forgiveness.

Maximin.
I will not strike thee on the ground: rise up,
Then, when thou risest . .

Agatha.
Come away, my brother!

Rupert.
Never, so help me saints! will I rise up:
I will breathe out my latest breath before her.

Maximin.
It sickens a stout man to tread on toads.

[Goes.
Rupert
(rising slowly, and passing a dagger through his fingers).
And the stout man might slip too, peradventure.

SCENE IV.

PALACE NEAR NAPLES. Durazzo. Margarita.
Durazzo.
The Pope is not averse to make me king.

Margarita.
Do we not rule already?

Durazzo.
Rule indeed!
Yes, one small dukedom. Any shepherd-dog
Might make his voice heard farther off than mine.

Margarita.
Yet, my sweet Carlo, oftentimes I've heard you,
When people brought before you their complaints,
Swear at them for disturbing your repose,
Keeping you from your hounds, your bird, your ride
At evening, with my palfrey biting yours
Playfully (like two Christians) at the gate.

Durazzo.
I love to see my bird soar in the air,
My hound burst from his puzzlement, and cite
His peers around him to arraign the boar.

Margarita.
I think such semblances of high estate
Are better than the thing itself, more pleasant,
More wholesome.

Durazzo.
And thinks too my Margarita
Of the gray palfrey? like a summer dawn
His dapper sides, his red and open nostrils,
And his fair rider like the sun just rising
Above it, making hill and vale look gay.

Margarita.
She would be only what Durazzo thinks her.

Durazzo.
Queenly he thinks her: queen he swears to make her.

Margarita.
I am contented; and should be, without
Even our rule: it brings us but few cares,
Yet some it brings us: why add more to them?

Durazzo.
I never heard you talk so seriously.
Not long ago I little heeded state,
Authority, low voice, bent knee, kist hand:
The Pope has proved to me that, sure as any
Of the seven sacraments, the only way
To rise above temptation, is to seize
All that can tempt.

Margarita.
There must be truth then in it.
But what will some men think when you deprive
Our aunt of her inheritance?

Durazzo.
Men think!
Do not men always think what they should not?

Margarita.
We hear so from the pulpit: it must be.
But we should never take what is another's.

Durazzo.
Then you would never take another's child
To feed or clothe it.

Margarita.
That is not my meaning.
I am quite sure my aunt has loved me dearly
All her life long, and loves me still; she often
(Kissing me) said, How like thou art Maria!
You know, Durazzo, how she loved my mother.

Durazzo.
And she loved me no less: and we love her
And honour her.

Margarita.
May we not then obey her?

Durazzo.
The Pope, who teaches best, says otherwise.
Rule has been tedious to her all her reign,
And dangerous too.

Margarita.
Make it less dangerous, make it
Less tedious.

Durazzo.
She has chosen the duke Otho
To sit above thy husband, and all else.

Margarita.
I think my husband is as brave as he.

Durazzo.
I think so too: yet people doubt.

Margarita.
Indeed!

Durazzo.
And doubt they will, unless the truest knight
Of Margarita takes to horse, and scours
Her grandsire's realm of foreigners like Otho.

Margarita.
If you do that, you must displease our aunt.

Durazzo.
Perhaps so: and hast never thou displeas'd her?

Margarita.
Never; although I sometimes did what might.

Durazzo.
I can not disappoint the Holy Father.

Margarita.
Nay, God forbid! But let me no more see her,
To hear her tell me all she did for me!
I can bear anything but evil tongues.

Durazzo.
Then let us slink away and live obscurely.

[Going.
Margarita.
Come back again . . Now! would you leave me so?
I have been thinking I must think no more
About the matter . . and am quite resolved.

Durazzo.
My sweetest! you have several female cousins;
What are they?

Margarita.
Duchesses.

Durazzo.
But are they queens?

Margarita.
No indeed; and why should they be? They queens?

Durazzo.
I know but one well worthy of the title.

Margarita.
Now, who can possibly that be, I wonder!

Durazzo.
She on whose brow already Majesty
Hath placed a crown which no artificer
Can render brighter, or fit better, she
Upon whose lip Love pays the first obeisance.

[Saluting her.
Margarita.
I know not how it is that you persuade
So easily . . not very easily
In this, however: yet, if but to tease
And plague a little bit my sweet dear cousins,
Writing the kindest letters, telling them
That I am still, and shall be, just the same,
Their loving cousin; nor in form alone;
And if I write but seldom for the future,
'Tis only that we queens have many cares
Of which my charming cousins can know nothing.

Durazzo.
What foresight, friendliness, and delicacy!

Margarita.
Nothing on earth but these, in the idea
Of vexing . . no, not vexing . . only plaguing
(You know, love! what I mean) my sweet dear cousins,
Could make me waver . . and then you, sad Carlo!

Durazzo.
To please me . .

Margarita.
Now, what would you have me say?

SCENE V.

NAPLES. Page, Giovanna, Agnes, Maximin.
Page.
Fly, O my lady! Troops are near the city.

Giovanna.
There always are.

Page.
But strangers. People say
Durazzo . .

Giovanna.
What of him?

Agnes.
Now then confess
I knew him better. No reports have reacht us
These several days: the roads were intercepted.

Giovanna.
I will fear nothing: Otho watches over us.
Insects, that build their tiny habitations
Against sea-cliffs, become sea-cliffs themselves.
I rest on Otho, and no storm can shake me.

Agnes.
How different this Durazzo!

Giovanna.
All men are:
But blame not without proof, or sign of proof,
Or accusation, any man so brave.

Page.
Lady! his soldiers on Camaldoli
Wave the green banner and march hitherward.

Giovanna
(after a pause).
It can not be! my Carlo! my Carlino!
What! he who said his prayers with hands comprest
Between my knees, and would leap off to say them?
Impossible! He may have been deterred
From helping me: his people, his advisers,
May have been adverse . . but . . make war upon me!
O they have basely slandered thee, my Carlo!

Agnes.
He has been with the Holy Father lately.

Giovanna.
This would relieve me from all doubt, alone.

Agnes.
So kind as you have been to him! a mother!

Giovanna.
Remind me not of any benefit
I may have done him: tell me his good deeds,
Speak not (if some there may have been) of mine:
'Twould but disturb the image that has never
Yet fallen from my breast, and never shall.
He was my child when my own child indeed,
My only one, was torn away from me.

Agnes.
And you have brooded o'er a marble egg,
Poor darkling bird!

Giovanna.
O Agnes! Agnes! spare me.
Let me think on . . how pleasant 'twas to follow
In that Carlino, in that lovely boy,
The hidings of shy love, its shame, its glee,
Demurest looks at matters we deem light,
And, well worth every lesson ever taught,
Laughter that loosens graver, and that shakes
Our solemn gauds into their proper place.

Maximin
(out of breath).
The castle-gates are open for one moment . .
Seize them and enter . . Crowds alone impede
Durazzo, and not arms.

Agnes.
Do you believe
His treason now?

Giovanna.
Peace, peace! 'tis hard, 'tis hard!

ACT II.

SCENE I.

RUPERT'S CELL. Rupert and Maximin.
Rupert
(alone).
(Maximin enters.)

Maximin
(gapes).
Weary! ay am I. Can I soon be captain?

Rupert.
Why not?

Maximin.
And then what service?

Rupert.
Queen Giovanna
Is blockt up in the castle, as thou knowest;
Was not my counsel wise, to keep thee out?
Famine had else consumed thee; she spares none.
Charles of Durazzo, our beloved king,
Presses the siege; and, when the queen gives up,
Thou art the man I prophesy to guard her.
There are some jewels: lightly carried in,
A thousand oxen cannot haul them forth;
But they may drop at Muro, one by one,
And who should husband them save Maximin?

Maximin
(pretending alarm).
I will not leave my sister out of sight:
She ne'er must fall again.

Rupert.
Forefend it, heaven!
I might be weak! She would indeed be safe
Where the queen is! But who shall have the heart
To shut her up? What has she done? Her brother
Might be a comfort to her; and the queen
And some few ladies trust her and caress her.
But, though the parks and groves and tofts around,
And meadows, from their first anemones
To their last saffron-crocuses, though all
Open would be, to her, if not to them,
And villagers and dances, and carousals
At vintage-time, and panes that tremble, partly
By moon-ray, partly by guitar beneath,
Yet might the hours, without street-views, be dull.

Maximin.
Don't tell her so. Get her once there. But how?
Beside, the queen will never trust Hungarians.
There would be mortal hatred. Is there fire
Upon the hearth?

Rupert.
None.

Maximin.
Why then rub your hands?

SCENE II.

CASTEL-NUOVO. Giovanna and Agnes.
Giovanna.
'Tis surely wrong that those who fight for us
So faithfully, so wretchedly should perish;
That thriftless jewels sparkle round your temples
While theirs grow dank with famine.

Agnes.
Now I see,
O my poor queen! the folly of refusal,
When they had brought us safety.

Giovanna.
Not quite that,
To me at least, but sustenance and comfort
To our defenders in the castle here.

Agnes.
Will you now take them?

Giovanna.
If some miracle
Might turn a jewel to a grain of corn,
I would: my own were kneaded into bread
In the first days of our captivity.

Agnes.
And mine were still withholden! Pardon me,
Just Heaven!

Giovanna.
In words like those invoke not Heaven.
If we say just, what can we hope? but what
May we not hope if we say merciful?

Agnes.
And yet my fault is very pardonable.
We, at our time of life, want these adornments.

Giovanna.
We never want them. Youth has all its own;
None can shed lustre upon closing days,
Mockers of eyes and lips and whatsoever
Was prized; nor can they turn one grey hair brown,
But, skilfully transmuted, might prolong
The life and health and happiness of hundreds.

Agnes.
Queens may talk so.

Giovanna.
Not safely, but to friends.

Agnes.
With power and pomp . .

Giovanna.
Behold my pomp, my power!
These naked walls, cold pavement, grated windows.

Agnes.
Let me share these with you. Take all my jewels.

Giovanna.
Forbear, forbear, dear Agnes!

Agnes.
Earth then, take them!

[Throwing them from her.

SCENE III.

CASTEL-NUOVO. Durazzo. Rupert. Giovanna. Agnes.
Durazzo.
Upon my knees I do entreat of you
To hear me. In sincerity, the crown
(Now mine) was forced upon me.

Giovanna.
Carlo! Carlo!
Know you what crowns are made of?

Durazzo
(rising).
I must wear one,
However fitly or unfitly made.

Giovanna.
The ermine is outside, the metal burns
Into the brain.

Durazzo.
Its duties, its conditions,
Are not unknown to me, nor its sad cares.

Giovanna.
'Tis well Maria my sweet sister lives not
To see this day.

Durazzo.
But Margarita lives,
Her beauteous daughter, my beloved wife.
She thinks you very kind who let her go
And join me, when strange rumours flew abroad
And liars call'd me traitor.

Giovanna.
With my blessing
She went, nor heard (I hope) that hateful name.

Durazzo
(negligently).
My cousin Agnes! not one word from you?

Agnes.
Charles of Durazzo! God abandons thee
To thy own will: can any gulph lie lower!

Durazzo.
'Twas not my will.

Agnes.
No!

Durazzo.
What I did, I did
To satisfy the people.

Agnes.
Satisfy
Ocean and Fire.

Durazzo.
The Church too.

Agnes.
Fire and Ocean
Shall lie together, and shall both pant gorged,
Before the Church be satisfied, if Church
Be that proud purple shapeless thing we see.

Durazzo
(to Rupert)
Show the pope's charter of investiture.

Rupert.
'Tis this. May it please our lady that I read it.

Giovanna
(to Durazzo).
Reasons where there are wrongs but make them heavier.

Durazzo
(to Agnes).
When the whole nation cries in agony
Against the sway of Germans, should I halt?

Agnes.
No German rules this country; one defends
And comforts and adorns it: may he long!
The bravest of his race, the most humane.

Durazzo.
Quell'd, fugitive, nor Germany nor France
Afford him aid against us.

Giovanna.
Sir! he hoped
No aid from France.

Agnes.
Does any? What is France?
One flaring lie, reddening the face of Europe.

Durazzo.
French is Provenza.

Agnes.
There our arts prevail,
Our race: no lair of tigers is Provenza.
I call that France where mind and soul are French.

Durazzo.
Sooner would he have graspt at German arms.

Giovanna.
God hold them both from Italy for ever!

Durazzo.
She shall want neither. The religious call
Blessings upon us in long-drawn processions.

Agnes.
Who are the men you please to call religious?
Sword-cutlers to all Majesties on earth,
Drums at the door of every theatre
Where tragedies are acted: that friar knows it.

Rupert.
Such is the fruit of letters sown in courts!
Peaches with nettle leaves and thistle crowns!
Upon my faith! kings are unsafe near them.

Durazzo
(to Agnes).
May-be we scarcely have your sanction, lady?
Am I one?

Agnes.
No.

Durazzo.
What am I?

Agnes.
What! an ingrate.

Durazzo
(scoffingly).
Is that to be no king? You may rave on,
Fair cousin Agnes: she who might complain
Absolves me.

Agnes.
Does the child she fed? the orphan?
The outcast? does he, can he, to himself,
And before us?

Durazzo.
I, the king, need it not.

Agnes.
All other blind men know that they are blind,
All other helpless feel their helplessness.

SCENE IV.

UNDER CASTEL-NUOVO. Durazzo and Rupert.
Rupert.
Remarkt you not how pale she turn'd?

Durazzo.
At what?

Rupert.
I said kings were unsafe. She knew my meaning.

Durazzo.
No man alive believes it: none believed it,
Beside the vulgar, when Andrea died.

Rupert.
Murdered he was.

Durazzo.
Mysteriously. Some say . .

Rupert.
What do some say?

Durazzo.
I never heeded them.
I know thee faithful: in this whole affair
I've proved it. He who goes on looking back
Is apt to trip and tumble.

[Goes.
Rupert
(alone).
Why this hatred?
Are there no memories of her far more pleasant?
I saw her in her childish days: I saw her
When she had cast away her toys, and sate
Sighing in idleness, and wishing more
To fall into her lap; but what? and how?
I saw her in the gardens, still a child,
So young, she mockt the ladies of the court,
And threw the gravel at them from her slipper,
And ran without if they pursued, but stopt
And leapt to kiss the face of an old statue
Because it smiled upon her: then would she
Shudder at two wrens fighting, shout, and part them.
Next came that age (the lovely seldom pass it)
When books lie open, or, in spite of pressing,
Will open of themselves at some one place.
Lastly, I saw her when the bridal crown
Entwined the regal. Oh! that ne'er these eyes
Had seen it! then, Andrea! thou had'st lived,
My comfort, my support. Divided power
Ill could I brook; how then, how tolerate
Its rude uprooting from the breast that rear'd it!
And must I now sweep from me the last blossoms
That lie and wither in the walk of life?
Fancies! . . mere fancies! . . let me cease to waver.
Who would not do as I did? I am more
A man than others, therefore I dare more,
And suffer more. Such is humanity:
I can not halve it. Superficial men
Have no absorbing passions: shallow seas
Are void of whirlpools. I must on, tho' loath.

SCENE V.

PALACE-GARDEN. Maximin and Agatha.
Maximin.
Courage! or start and leave me. Sobs indeed!
Pack those up for young girls who want some comfits.
Nay, by my soul, to see grown women sob it,
As thou dost, even wert thou not my sister,
Smites on me here and whets my sword at once.
It maddens me with choler . . for what else
Can shake me so? I feel my eyes on fire.
He shall pay dear for it, the cursed Frate.

Agatha.
Why, Maximin, O why didst thou consent
To meet the friar again?

Maximin.
To make him serve thee.

Agatha.
Poverty rather! want . . even infamy.

Maximin
Did'st thou not pity, would'st not serve, the queen?

Agatha.
O might I! might I! she alone on earth
Is wretcheder: my soul shall ever bend
Before that sacredest supremacy.

Maximin.
Come with me: we will talk about the means.

Agatha.
But, be thou calm.

Maximin.

SCENE VI.

NAPLES. PALACE OF BUTELLO. Butello and Rupert.
Butello
(reads).
“We, Urban, by the grace of God . .”

Rupert.
Well, well;
That is all phrase and froth; dip in the spoon
A little deeper; we shall come at last
To the sweet solids and the racy wine.

Butello.
Patience, good Frate, patience!

Rupert.
Now, Butello,
If I cried patience, wouldst not thou believe
I meant delay? So do not cry it then.
Read on . . about the middle. That will do . .
Pass over love, solicitude, grief, foresight,
Paternal or avuncular. Push on . .
There . . thereabout.

Butello.
Lift off thy finger, man,
And let me, in God's name, read what wants reading.

Rupert.
Prythee be speedy . . Where thou seest my name . .

Butello
(reads).
“If that our well-beloved Frate Rupert
Shall, by his influence thereunto directed
By the blest saints above, and the good will
Which the said Frate Rupert ever bore us,
Before the expiration of one month,
So move the heart of Carlo of Durazzo
That the said Carlo do invade and seize . .

Rupert.
What would his Holiness have next?

Butello.
Wait, wait.
“Naples, a kingdom held by our permission . .

Rupert.
Ho! is that all? 'Tis done.

Butello.
Hear me read on.
“From those who at this present rule the same . .

Rupert.
This present is already past. I've won.

Butello.
“And shall consign a princely fief thereof,
Hereditary, to our foresaid nephew
Gieronimo Butello, We, by power
Wherewith we are invested, will exalt
Our trusty well-beloved Frate Rupert
Unto the highest charge our Holy Church
Bestows upon her faithful servitors.”

Rupert.
Would not one swear those words were all engrossed,
And each particular letter stood bolt-upright,
Captain'd with taller at the column-head?
What marshall'd files! what goodly companies!
And, to crown all, the grand heaven-sent commission
Seal'd half-way over with green wax, and stiff
With triple crown, and crucifix below it.
Give me the paper.

Butello.
Why?

Rupert
(impatient).
Give me the paper.

Butello.
His Holiness hath signed it.

Rupert.
Let me see.

Butello.
Look.

Rupert.
Nay but give it me.

Butello.
A piece of paper!

Rupert.
. . Can not be worth a principality.

Butello
(giving it).
There then.

Rupert.
What dukedom has the grandest sound?

Butello.
Dukedom! the Pope says principality.

Rupert.
Thou soon shalt blazon.

Butello.
I rely on you:
Adieu, my lord!

Rupert.
My prince, adieu! (Alone.)
Who knows
If this will better me! Away from court?
No; never. Leave the people? When he leaves it,
The giant is uplifted off the earth
And loses all his strength. My foot must press it.
Durazzo, in things near, is shrewd and sighted:
I may not lead him. If I rule no more
This kingdom, yet ere long my tread may sound
Loud in the conclave, and my hand at last
Turn in their golden wards the keys of heaven.

SCENE VII.

CASTLE OF MURO. Giovanna and Agatha.
Giovanna.
Both mind and body in their soundest state
Are always on the verge of a disorder,
And fear increases it: take courage then.

Agatha.
There is an error in the labyrinth
Of woman's life whence never foot returns.

Giovanna.
Hath God said that?

Agatha.
O lady! man hath said it.

Giovanna.
He built that labyrinth, he led that foot
Into it, and there left it. Shame upon him!
I take thee to my service and my trust.
To love the hateful with prone prudent will
Is worse than with fond unsuspiciousness
To fall upon the bosom of the lovely,
The wise who value us, the good who teach us,
The generous who forgive us when we err.

Agatha.
Oh! I have no excuse.

Giovanna.
She stands absolved
Before her God who says it as thou sayst it.
I have few questions for thee: go, be happier.
I owe thy brother more than I can pay,
And would, when thou hast leisure, hear what chance
Rais'd up a friend where the ground seem'd so rough.

Agatha.
Leave me no leisure, I beseech of you:
I would have cares and sorrows not my own
To cover mine from me: I would be questioned,
So please you, I may else be false in part,
Not being what eyes bedim'd with weeping see me.

Giovanna.
You come, 'tis rumour'd here, from Hungary.
My infant was torn from me by his uncle
And carried into Hungary.

Agatha.
I saw it.

Giovanna.
Saw it! my infant! to have seen my infant,
How blessed! Was it beautiful? strong? smiling?

Agatha.
It had mild features and soft sunbright hair,
And seem'd quite happy.

Giovanna.
No, poor thing, it was not;
It often wanted me, I know it did,
And sprang up in the night and cried for me,
As I for it . . at the same hour, no doubt.
It soon soon wasted . . And you saw my child!
I wish you would remember more about him . .
The little he could say you must remember . .
Repeat it me.

Agatha.
Ah lady! he was gone,
And angels were the first that taught him speech.

Giovanna.
Happier than angels ever were before!

Agatha.
He happier too!

Giovanna.
Ah! not without his mother!
Go, go, go . . There are graves no time can close.

ACT III

SCENE I.

NAPLES. PALACE. Durazzo. Rupert. Herald. Officers.
Durazzo.
I thought I heard a trumpet. But we reel
After we step from shipboard, and hear trumpets
After we ride from battle. 'Twas one. Hark!
It sounds again. Who enters?

Officer.
Please your Highness!
A herald claims admittance.

Durazzo.
Let him in.

Rupert.
(Herald enters.)

Durazzo.
Well, sir, your message.

Herald.
Herald from duke Otho,
I bring defiance and demand reply.

Durazzo.
I know duke Otho's courage, and applaud
His wisdom. Tell duke Otho from king Carlo,
I would in his place do the very same:
But, having all I want, assure your lord
I am contented.

Rupert.
Blessed is content.

Durazzo.
Now, should duke Otho ever catch the reins
(For all things upon earth are changeable)
He can not well refuse the turn he tries,
But will permit me to contend with him
For what at present I propose to keep.

Herald.
If then your Highness should refuse the encounter,
Which never knight, and rarely king, refuses . .

Durazzo.
Hold, sir! All kings are knights. The alternative?

Herald.
None can there be where combat is declined.
He would not urge in words the queen's release,
But burns to win it from a recreant knight.

Durazzo.
Did Otho say it?

Herald.
Standing here his herald,
I have no voice but his.

Durazzo.
You may have ears:
Hear me then, sir! You know, all know at Naples,
The wife and husband are as near at present
As ever, though the knight and lady not.
She, when she married him, declined his love,
And never had he hers: Taranto won it,
And, when he squandered it, 'twas unretrieved.

Herald.
Is this, sir, for my ears or for my voice?
My voice (it is a man's) will not convey it.

Durazzo
[to guards].
Escort the herald back with honours due. [To Rupert.

What think you, my lord bishop of Nocera?

Rupert.
Troublesome times! troublesome times indeed!
My flock, my brethren at Nocera, will,
Must want me: but how leave my prince, a prey
To tearing factions, godless, kingless men!

Durazzo.
Never mind me, good father!

Rupert.
Mind not you?
I can not go; I would not for the world.

Durazzo.
The world is of small worth to holy men.

Rupert.
I will not hence until the storm be past.

Durazzo.
After a storm the roads are heavier.
Courage! my good lord bishop! We must speed
And chaunt our Veni Domine at Nocera.

Rupert.
Then would your Highness . .

Durazzo.
Not corporeally,
But, where my bishop is, I am in spirit.

[Goes.
Rupert
(alone).
So! this is king . . and wit too! that's not kingly.
Can he be ignorant of who I am?
They will show fragments of this sturdy frock,
Whence every thread starts visible, when all
The softer nappery, in its due descent,
Drops from the women, Carlo, to the moths.

SCENE II.

APARTMENT IN THE CASTLE OF MURO. Maximin and Agatha.
Maximin.
How fares thy lady?

Agatha.
As one fares who never
Must see the peopled earth, nor hear its voice
Nor know its sympathy; so fares Giovanna;
But, pure in spirit, rises o'er the racks
Whereof our world is only one vast chamber.

Maximin.
Dost thou enjoy the gardens, fields, and forests?

Agatha.
Perfectly.

Maximin.
Hast a palfrey?

Agatha.
Had I ever?
Reading and needlework employ the day.

Maximin.
Ah! our good mother little knew what pests
Those needles and those books are, to bright eyes;
Rivals should recommend them, mothers no.
We will ride out together.

Agatha.
On what horses?

Maximin.
One brought me. Are the queen's at grass?

Agatha.
We have none.

Maximin.
Thou art hale, Agatha, but how enjoy
Perfectly, as thou sayest, these domains?

Agatha.
By looking out at window with the queen.

Maximin.
All the day thro'?

Agatha.
I read to her: and then,
If she suspects it tires me, she takes up
The volume, and pretends great interest
Just there, and reads it out.

Maximin.
True history?

Agatha.
History she throws by.

Maximin.
Then sweet-heart songs,
Adventures?

Agatha.
Some she reads, and over some
Tosses her work, rises, and shuts the cover.

Maximin.
I would not shut the song-book. There are others
That show within them gold-and-purple saints,
Heads under arm, eyes upon platter, laughing
At her who carries them and lately wore them.

Agatha.
Such are not wanting.

Maximin.
Pleasant sights enough!
I would fain see them.

Agatha.
Quite impossible.

Maximin.
On feast-days?

Agatha.
All are in her bedroom-closet.

Maximin.
So! the best books then must be out of sight,
As all the best things are! What are her pictures?

Agatha.
Chiefly her own lost family, and those
She loved the most in it.

Maximin.
O for a glimpse!
Tell me at least who are they.

Agatha.
Good king Robert,
Whose face she often kisses.

Maximin.
None more worth it?

Agatha.
There are the two Marias: one elate
With merriment, her eyes orbs wing'd with flame;
Long deep and dark the other's, and within
Whose cooler fountains blissfully might bathe
A silenter and (haply) purer love.

Maximin.
I should be glad to look at them, but rather
At the kind queen herself.

Agatha.
That thou mayest do.

Maximin.
When?

Agatha.
Now; I think; for having heard who 'twas
That warned her of her danger when the duke
Rode in, she wisht to thank thee. Come with me:
I must first enter and announce your name.

Maximin.
I thought you said she knew it. Take your course.

SCENE III.

CHAMBER AT MURO. Giovanna. Maximin. Agatha.
Giovanna.
Accept my too few thanks, sir, for your zeal . .

Maximin.
Fine air, my lady queen, in this high tower;
Healthy as Hungary; may you enjoy it
These many days!

Giovanna
(bending).
I fancied Hungary
Was moister, leveler, than hereabout.

Maximin.
We have a plain in Hungary on which,
Just in the middle, all of Italy's
You shall pin down nor see them from the sides.
And then what cattle! horse, ox, sheep! God's blessing
Upon hard-working men, like furlough soldiers,
And rare sport at the foray, when the Turk
Might seize them if we sent them not to quarters.
Here too seems nothing wanting.

[Looking round.
Giovanna.
A few friends
Were welcome, could they but return, whose pen
And conversation lighten'd former hours.

Maximin.
Learned ones; ay?

Giovanna.
The learned came around me.

Maximin.
Whistle, and they are at the barley-corns,
Wing over wing, beak against beak, I warrant.
I knew two holy friars, as holy men
As ever snored in sackcloth after sinning,
And they were learned. What now was the upshot?
I should have said one's crucifix was white,
The other's black. They plied mild arguments
In disputation. Brother, was the term
At first, then sir, then nothing worse than devil.
But those fair words, like all fair things, soon dropt.
Fists were held up, grins in the face grew rife,
Teeth (tho' in these one had the better of it
By half a score) were closed like money-boxes
Against the sinner damn'd for poverty.
At last the learned and religious men
Fell to it mainly, crucifix in hand,
Until no splinter, ebony or linden,
Was left, of bulk to make a toothpick of.

Agatha.
Brother! such speech is here irreverent.

Giovanna.
Let him speak on: we are not queens all day.
Soldiers are rivals of the hierarchs,
And prone to jealousy, as less at ease,
Less wealthy, and, altho' the props of power,
Less powerful and commanding.

Maximin.
Never queen
Spoke truer. I bear lusty hate to them.

Agatha.
Again? O Maximin! before our princes
We never hate nor love.

Maximin.
Then, lady, I
Am your worst vassal.

Giovanna.
How?

Maximin.
Being taught to hate you . .
God pardon me! None but the frockt could teach
So false a creed. But now the heart let loose
Swings quite the other way. Folks say they love
Their princes: sure they must have wrong'd them first.
I turned away mine eyes from your young beauty,
And muttered to my beard, and made it quiver
With my hard breathing of hard thoughts: but now
Conspirators shall come in vain against you:
Here is the sill they tread upon who enter.

[Striking his breast.

SCENE IV.

RUPERT'S CLOISTER.
Rupert
(alone).
Fëalty sworn, should I retract so soon?
I will live quiet . . no more crimes for me . .
When this is fairly over . . for a crime
It surely is . . albeit much holier men
Have done much worse and died in odour after.
They were spare men, and had poor appetites,
And wanted little sleep. 'Twont do with me.
Beside, I must get over this bad habit
Of talking to myself. One day or other
Some fool may read me, mark me, and do hurt.
And furthermore . . when highest dignities
Invest us, what is there to think about?
What need for cleverness, wit, circumspection,
Or harm to any . . who keep still, submiss,
And brush not in attempting to pass by.

SCENE V.

Stephen enters.
Stephen.
Your Reverence is made bishop, we hear say:
As for us all . .

Rupert.
Lupins . . when times are good.
Ah! thou hast bowels; thou canst pity others.

Stephen.
I can myself.

Rupert.
I all my countrymen.
I have been lately in that happy realm
Our native land.
[Whispers.
Her kings should govern here.

Stephen.
And everywhere. What loyal subject doubts
His prince's right o'er all other princes?

Rupert.
Here are sad discontents. The prince Butello,
Nephew of His Beatitude the Pope,
Can not yet touch this principality.
Durazzo, our sharp king, snatches it back,
Altho' the kingdom was bestowed on him
Under this compact.

Stephen.
He will bring down bull
And thunder on his crown. The pope's own nephew!

Rupert.
No less a man.

Stephen.
If there's pope's blood in
He won't stand robbery.

Rupert.
We owe obedience
To kings . . unless a higher authority
Dissolves it.

Stephen.
Doubtless: but what kings? our own
Say I.

Rupert.
O Stephen! say it, say it softly.
Few ears can open and can close like mine.

Stephen
(aside).
Ah! how good men all over are maligned!

Rupert.
I would not trust another soul on earth . .
But others must be trusted. Lucky they
Who first bring over to right ways the brave,
First climb the pole and strip the garland off
With all its gold about it. Then what shouts!
What hugs! what offers! dowers, in chests, in farms . .
Ah! these are wordly things too fondly prized!
But there are what lie deeper; the true praise
Of loyalty, of sanctity.

Stephen
(pondering).
'Tis pleasant
To look into warm chest with well-wrought hinges,
That turn half-yearly. Pleasant too are farms
When harvest-moons hang over them, and wanes
Jolt in the iron-tinged rut, and the white ox
Is call'd by name, and patted ere pull'd on.

Rupert.
These are all thine. I have lived many days
And never known that man unprosperous
Who served our holy church in high emprize.

Stephen.
If so, I wish I could.

Rupert.
Wish we had kings
Who keep their words like ours of Hungary.

Stephen.
Just.

Rupert.
I have half a mind to let Elizabeth
Know what a zealous subject, what a brave,
Her daughter has at Naples.

Stephen.
Would she give me
(For thanks in these hard times are windy) money?
Think you?

Rupert.
Don't squander all away. Few know
Its power, its privilege. It dubs the noble,
It raises from the dust the man as light,
It turns frowns into smiles, it makes the breath
Of sore decrepitude breathe fresh as morn
Into maternal ear and virgin breast.

Stephen.
Is that all it can do? I see much farther.
I see full twenty hens upon the perch,
I see fat cheese moist as a charnel-house,
I see hogs' snouts under the door, I see
Flitches of bacon in the rack above.

Rupert.
Rational sights! fair hopes! unguilty wishes!
I am resolved: I can refrain no longer:
Thou art the man for prince to rest upon,
The plain, sound, sensible, straightforward man,
No courtier . . or not much of one . . but fit
To show courts what they should be. Hide this letter.
Mind! if thou losest it, or let'st an eye
Glance on it, I may want the power again
To serve thee: thou art ruin'd. The new king
Might chide and chafe should Rupert ask another
To forward any sent he would prefer
For friend or kindred. Since thou must return
To Hungary, thou shalt not go ill-fed.
'Tis to the queen's confessor; look at it;
Now put it up; now, godson of our Saint!
Take this poor purse, and, honest soul! this blessing.
Guides thou shalt have all the first day, and rules
How to go forward on the road: so speed thee!

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

CASTLE OF MURO. Giovanna, Agatha.
Giovanna.
Long have we lived in one imprisonment;
Our tears have darkened many a thread about
Each distaff, at the whitening half-spent fire
On winter-night; many a one when deep purple
Cloth'd yonder mountain after summer-day,
And one sole bird was singing, sad though free.
Death, like all others, hath forgotten me,
And grief, methinks, now growing old, grows lighter.

Agatha.
To see you smile amid your grief, consoles me.

Giovanna.
I never wanted confidence in you,
Yet never have I opened my full mind,
Keeping some thoughts secreted, altho' bent
To draw them out before you. They have lain
Like letters which, however long desired,
We cover with the hand upon the table
And dare not open.

Agatha.
If relief there be,
Why pause? if not, why blame your diffidence?

Giovanna.
Fostered too fondly, I shot up too tall
In happiness: it wasted soon. Taranto
Had my first love; Andrea my first vow,
And warm affection, which shuts out sometimes
Love, rather than embraces it. To lose him
Pained me, God knows! and worse (so lost!) than all
The wild reports Hungarians spread about me.
My first admirer was my first avenger.
He, laying at my feet his conquering sword,
Withdrew. Two years elapst, he urged the dangers
That still encompast me; recall'd our walks,
Our studies, our reproofs for idling, smiled at
By (O kind man!) the grandfather of both.
I bade him hope. Hope springs up at that word
And disappears; Love, radiant Love, alights.
Taranto was my joy; my heart was full:
Alas! how little can the full heart spare?
I paus'd . . because I ill might utter it . .
In time he turn'd his fancies to another.
Wretchedest of the wretched was I now;
But gentle tones much comforted my anguish,
Until they ended; then loud throbs confused
The treasured words; then heavy sleep opprest me.
I was ashamed . . I am ashamed . . yet (am I
Unwomanly to own it?) when he loved
One only, I was driven to despair;
When more . . Adieu Taranto! cried my heart
And almost sank thro' sorrow into peace.
O that fresh crimes in him should solace me!
My life of love was over, when his spirit
Flew from my lips, and carried my forgiveness
On high, for Heaven's.
Wars burst forth again;
He who defended me from their assaults
Saw in me what to love, but whom to love
He found not in me.
“If my confidence,
My gratitude,” said I, “suffice thee, Otho,
Here is my hand.”
He took it, and he wept.
Brave man! and let me also weep for thee!

Agatha.
Not beauteous youth enrobed in royal purple
And bright with early hope, have moved you so.

Giovanna.
Record not either; let me dwell on Otho:
The thoughts of him sink deeper in my pillow;
His valiant heart and true one bleeds for me.

SCENE II.

COURT-YARD OF MURO. Maximim and Stephen.
Stephen.
Maximin! art thou close?

Maximin.
Yea, close enough,
Altho' I have the whole court-yard to cool in.

Stephen.
I meant not that.

Maximin.
A baton to a pike
Thou didst not; else thou hadst not spoken it.

Stephen.
Some folks think better of my understanding.

Maximin.
None of thy heart: give me thy fist then, Stephen.

Stephen.
That sets all right.

Maximin.
What brought thee hither?

Stephen.
What?

Maximin.
Hast secrets?

Stephen.
None worth knowing.

Maximin.
No man has:
They never did any one good.

Stephen.
They may.
Maximin! hast commands for Hungary?

Maximin.
For Hungary?

Stephen.
What! is there no such place?

Maximin.
No, by my soul! nor ever will for me.
Were not my sister here about her duty,
I could knock out my brains against the wall
To think of Hungary.

Stephen.
Yet thou hast there
No croft, no homestead, pullet, chick.

Maximin.
Hast thou?

Stephen.
I am a man at last. Wert thou but one!

Maximin.
Stephen, we will not quarrel.

Stephen.
I am rich
I meant to say.

Maximin.
So far so well: however,
Not some bold thief who stands some ages back
(Tho' better there than nearer) nor some bolder
Who twists God's word and overturns his scales,
Nor steel, nor soil in any quantity,
Nor gold, whose chain encompasses the globe,
Nor even courage, Stephen, is sufficient
To make a man: one breath on Woman's wrongs,
Lifting the heart, does that.

Stephen.
And other things.

Maximin.
Chick, pullet, homestead, croft; are these our makers?

Stephen.
I have them in this lining, one and all.

Maximin
(suspecting).
Stephen! I could show thee the duplicate
In the same hand. He who fixt me at Muro
Will fix thee too in some such place as firmly.
What! hast no heart for castles? art low-minded?
How! with chick, pullet, homestead, croft? Sit down:
Thou didst not sweat so after all thy walk
As thou dost now. What ails thee, man?

Stephen.
What ails me!
Nothing.

Maximin.
But did Fra Rupert, did he truly
Clap thee up here? Cleverly done! Don't blame him.

Stephen.
Blame him! if friar he were not, and moreover
The tadpole of a bishop, by the martyr!
I would run back and grapple with his weazon.

Maximin.
He is too cunning for us simple men.

Stephen.
For thee, it seems, he has been . . but for me,
I, man or child, was never yet out-witted.

Maximin.
Ah! we all think so; yet all are, by weaker.
And now about the letter.

Stephen.
Thee he trusted;
I know he did; show me the duplicate.

Maximin.
Duplicates are not written first nor shown first.
How many men art good against?

Stephen.
One only.

Maximin.
Then five might overmaster thee and gag thee,
And five are ready in the Apennines;
If I knew where exactly, I would tell thee.

Stephen.
A fiend of hell in frock!

Maximin.
No, not so bad:
He, without blame or danger on thy part,
Shall build thy fortune.

Stephen.
He? I scorn the thief . .
Beside . . he would not.

Maximin.
Would or not, he shall. [Stephen hesitates.

Am I an honest man?

Stephen.
Why! as men go.

Maximin.
Give me the letter then, and, on my life,
It shall do more and better for thee much
Than placed in any other hands but mine. An Officer passes.

Ho! Captain! see an honest man at last, [Giving him the letter.

And you the very one he came about.

Stephen
(threatening Maximin).
Traitor!

Maximin.
A traitor, with a vengeance, is he.

Stephen.
Hangman!

Maximin.
Thou needst not call him; he will come
Presently. [To the Officer.

This poor hind hath saved the prince
From insurrection, from invasion. Read. [Officer reads.

The royal favour will shine warm upon
One friend of mine.

Officer.
Be sure: he will be made.
'Tis but our service . . We must not complain . .
Tho' there are things, of late, which soldiers' crops
Swell high against. We captains . .

Maximin.
Ay, we captains! . .

Officer.
I must be gone to Naples; so must thou
My gallant grey-coat.

[Goes out.
Maximin.
Tell me how thou camest
To Muro, of all places in the world,
It lies so wide of any road to Hungary.

Stephen.
Fra Rupert bade me follow at mid-day
A band of holy mendicants, due-south,
To baffle all suspicion: the next morn
To cross the mountains on my left, and turn
Northward, and then take boat by Pesaro.
While they were stretcht along the levelest tiles
In the best chamber . . being mendicants . .
Each on his sheepskin . . for they love soft lying . .
Of grand farm-house; and while nighthawk and grillo
Fought for it which should sing them first to sleep;
And while aside them, in brass pot unfathom'd,
The rich goat-whey was ripening for next breakfast,
I thought of my far sheep and my near friend;
My near friend first; and so, by luck, here am I.

Maximin.
But how didst dream that thou shouldst find me here?

Stephen.
Who, in the Virgin's name, should first step up,
After I bade the mendicants good-bye,
Who but Augustin! Much about our country,
Mops, wakes, fairs, may-poles, gipsy-girls, and fortunes,
When suddenly, as one that knew them all,
He whisper'd thou wert art this Muro here,
Some twenty miles, or near upon it, off.
I must fain see thee. After three hours' walk
I ask the distance: twenty-five miles scant.
At night I supt and slept with an old shepherd:
His dog soon crope betwixt us, so genteely,
I should have never known it, but his nose
Was cold against my ear, and, when I turn'd,
A snag or two was at it . . without harm.
Morning blew sharp upon us from the hills.
“How far are we from Muro, my good man?”
Said I, and dipt my olive in the salt.
“Scant thirty miles.” Let never man believe
In luck! I overturned the salt, alert
To hurry on; yet here thou seest me, rich . .
Sleeping six hours in winter, five in summer.

Maximin
(pondering).
Augustin told thee I was here! Augustin!
How should he know? One only knew beside
The friar: he never would have told: she told him. [Walks about impatiently.

Augustin has smooth locks and fresh complexion,
And heels for dance and voice for dulcimer,
Rare articles at finding secrets out:
But, with thy slanting face, and arm curl'd round
The inside canework of a padded chair,
And leg oblique slid negligently under,
If thou wouldst keep them nicely in repair
Ferret no more my secrets out, Augustin!

Officer
(returned).
Ready? my dapple grey! ready for Naples?

Stephen.
Not without Maximin. By his advice
I call'd you in to help us: he shall have
His share.

Maximin.
When our blythe king sniffs up the wind,
And sees the clouds roll mainly from the north,
And finds Giovanna's enemies advance,
He may be kinder to her: so, commander,
If you believe I did my duty now,
Let me confirm the letter you convey.

Officer.
Canst thou add aught?

Maximin.
Much, were there much required.

Officer.
Come then along: we will drink gold to-morrow.

SCENE III.

MONASTERY GARDENS.
Rupert
(alone).
I must have peace: I can not live without it:
Only few years (who knows) may yet remain.
They shall not hurt the queen: in part the harm
Would be my doing. But then Maximin . .
He too . . yet why not let him die in battle?
Battles there will be: kings are all tenacious
Of their king-life: Italians are astute,
Hungarians valiant: two stout swords must clash
Before one break.
That Agatha, that Agatha
Troubles me most of all! Suppose she comes
Into my very palace at Nocera,
And tells the people what the bishop did!
Never was blow cruel like this since Herod.
Giovanna must then live, if for her sake
Alone; for such her tenderness, her truth,
She'll not abandon her while life remains.

SCENE IV.

PALACE IN NAPLES. Durazzo. Chancellor. Privy-counsellors.
Durazzo.
Speak, my lord chancellor: you now have read
The letter through: can doubt remain upon it? [Chancellor shakes his head.

Gentlemen! you have heard it: what think you?

First Counsellor.
Traitorous, if there be treason.

Second Counsellor.
Sentence then.

Chancellor.
Powerful is Rupert: many think him saintly,
All know him wise and wary: he has friends
In every house, and most among the women.
Such men are dangerous to impeach: beside,
Being now bishop . .

Durazzo.
Not quite yet: appointed,
Not seated.

Chancellor.
No? This changes the whole aspect.
Once bearing that high dignity, once throned . .

Durazzo.
I like no thrones that narrow mine too much,
And wonder wherefore clergymen should mount them.

Chancellor.
However, sir, since such hath been the custom
From barbarous times . .

Durazzo.
Till times herein as barbarous . .

Chancellor.
We must observe the usage of the realm,
And keep our hands from touching things held sacred.
Few days ago, for lighter crimes the friar
Might have been punisht with severity.

First Counsellor.
Even now, although his legs begin to sprout
With scarlet plumage, we may crop his crest;
But better on the beam than in the yard.

Third Counsellor.
It would put by much bickering.

Fourth Counsellor.
There are many
Expectants, holy men, who would condemn
In any court ecclesiastical
Appeal so manifest to foreign force,
And strip him to the skin to wash him clean.

Fifth Counsellor.
And there are civil laws which tread on velvet
And leave no scandal when they pass the door;
Modest and mild and beautifully drest,
And void of all loquacity, all pomp;
They, should you ask them what they are, reply
“We are not laws; we are prerogatives.”

Carlo.
Paoluccio! wit may give the best advice.
Far be from me all violence. If the criminal
Be strong and boisterous, the ecclesiastical
Craving and crafty, swift or slow at pleasure,
At least our civil laws are excellent,
And what you call prerogatives are civil.

Paoluccio.
I class them so.

Many at once.
They are the best of all.

Carlo.
I will pursue this counsel.
You may rise.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

CASTLE OF MURO. Giovanna. Agatha. Otho. Officers.
Giovanna.
What shouts are those? whose voice, above them all,
Above the neighing horse and trumpet's clang,
Calls to the rescue? Can I doubt? . .
My Otho!
My Otho! rush not rashly into fight:
Thou canst not free me.

Agatha.
He has beat them off . .
He enters.

Officer.
Yes, he enters.

Otho
(wounded mortally).
Take the ransom . .
'Tis small . . 'tis only one worn life . . and loose her.

Giovanna.
Not from thy neck, my Otho, while thou livest,
Or while I live.

Otho.
Giovanna hath embraced me . .
I now have lived . . life should be over now.

Officer.
His breath is gone: bear him away: the king [Points to the Queen, who swoons.

May have commands for her.

Agatha.
My queen! my queen!
My friend! my comforter! Oh! that no more.

[Falls.

SCENE II.

PALACE, NAPLES. Margarita. Durazzo.
Margarita.
I can not see what mighty things indeed
My aunt Giovanna ever did for me:
Can you?

Durazzo.
They long are over, if she did.

Margarita.
Beside . .

Durazzo.
Now what beside?

Margarita.
I had almost
Said such a foolish thing!

Durazzo.
You! Margarita!

Margarita.
I was about to say she did no more
For me than you. If she loved me, she loved me
Because she loved my mother, her own sister;
Where is the wonder? where the merit?

Durazzo.
None.

Margarita.
She even loved another sister, her
Whom people called Fiammetta; God knows why;
No Christian name, nought Christian-like about it.
She was the one of Sicily, who fancied
(O shame upon her!) somebody . . a writer.

Durazzo.
What writer?

Margarita.
Is not that enough? a writer!

Durazzo.
There is not much to thank her for, if all
Partake of her affection, even those
Who sink so low.

Margarita.
She played with you the most;
Perhaps because she thought you like her child.
She did show pleasure when she fondled me;
But 'twas not to make me the happier,
Although it did so, but herself . . herself.
Yet, Carlo, would you think it! there are times
When I am ready to desire of you
That you would let her out of such a den
At Muro.

Durazzo.
Had you mentioned it before,
As wishing it . . why, then indeed . .

Margarita.
So, then,
You would have let her out? How very kind!

Durazzo.
If we could have persuaded her to go.

Margarita.
Persuaded her? what! out of prison?

Durazzo.
Do not
Term it so harshly: who can bear to hear
Of prisons?

Margarita.
Is the tower indeed not lockt
Nor bolted?

Durazzo.
People would run into it
And trouble her devotions. At this time
She needs them most particularly.

Margarita.
Why?

Durazzo.
Her health declines.

Margarita.
Is she in danger?

Durazzo.
Some.

Margarita.
Imminent?

Durazzo.
There are fears.

Margarita.
About her life?

Durazzo.
Men shake their heads.

Margarita.
O Carlo! O my Carlo!
I have . . (will God forgive me?) been ungrateful.
And all this time! . . when, but one moment of it . .
My hand in hers, or hers upon my head . .

Durazzo.
Hush! Margarita! thou'rt a queen: be calm,
And worthy of the station we enjoy.

[He leads her out.

SCENE III.

PALACE, NAPLES. High Steward. Chamberlain. Chancellor. Durazzo.
Chamberlain.
Wary and slow is this our chancellor,
Where title-deeds are fluttering in suspense;
The perill'd life and honour of his queen
He passes as he would a wretch in chains
On the road-side, saying, So! there thou art!

Lord High Steward.
We want such men's religion, their sound sense,
Coolness, deliberation, ponderous front,
Broad and dark eyebrow. Much of dignity,
Reverence and awe, build on these crags alone.

Lord Chamberlain.
Ye have them all in one. I hear his foot:
The king steps lighter: both advance.

Lord High Steward.
Who come
Behind? for there are many.

(Durazzo, Chancellor, Counsellors, enter.)
Durazzo.
Take your seats.
Gentlemen! ye have heard with indignation
The rash attempt against my peace and yours,
Made by the Suabian, husband of Giovanna.

Lord Chamberlain.
We hear, by Heaven's protection of your Highness,
It fail'd.

Lord High Steward.
And that he fell in the attempt.

Durazzo.
Desperate, he cut his way, tho' wounded, thro'
My bravest troops, but could not force the gate;
Horsemen are weak at walls nine fathoms high;
He had scarce twenty with him.

Chancellor.
There he paid
His forfeit life, declared already traitor.

Durazzo.
On this we are not met, but to deliberate
On the state's safety. My lord chancellor,
Is the queen guilty?

Chancellor
(starts).
We must try her first,
Privately; then decide.

Durazzo.
Yea, privately;
So pleaseth me. Take then your secretaries
And question her; decorously, humanely.

SCENE IV.

CASTLE OF MURO. Giovanna. Chancellor. High Steward. Chamberlain. Secretaries.
Chancellor.
Lady! we have heard all, and only ask
(For the realm's weal) your Highness will vouchsafe
To sign this parchment.

Giovanna
(Taking it).
What contains it?

Chancellor.
Peace.

Giovanna.
I then would sign it with my blood; but blood
Running from royal veins never sign'd peace. [Reads.

It seems I am required to abdicate
In favour of Duke Carlo of Durazzo.

Chancellor.
Even so.

Giovanna
(to the others).
To you I turn me, gentlemen!
If ever you are told that I admitted
His unjust claims, if ever you behold
Sign'd, as you fancy, by my hand the parchment
That waives our kingdom from its rightful heir,
Believe it not: only believe these tears,
Of which no false one ever fell from me
Among the many 'twas my fate to shed.
I want not yours; they come too late, my friends;
Farewell, then! You may live and serve your country;
These walls are mine, and nothing now beyond.

SCENE V.

NAPLES. Maximin. Stephen.
Maximin.
Among the idle and the fortunate
Never drops one but catafalc and canopy
Are ready for him: organ raves above,
And songsters wring their hands and push dull rhymes
Into dull ears that worse than wax hath stopt,
And cherubs puff their cheeks and cry half-split
With striding so across his monument.
Name me one honest man for whom such plays
Were ever acted.
They will ne'er lay Otho
With kindred clay! no helm, no boot beside
His hurried bier! no stamp of stately soldier
Angry with grief and swearing hot revenge,
Until even the paid priest turns round and winks.
I will away: sick, weary . .

(Stephen enters.)
Stephen.
Hast thou heard
The saddest thing?

Maximin.
Heard it? . . committed it,
Say rather. But for thee and thy curst gold,
Which, like magician's, turns to dust, I trow,
I had received him in the gate, and brought
The treasure of his soul before his eyes:
He had not closed them so.

Stephen.
Worst of it all
Is the queen's death.

Maximin.
The queen's?

Stephen.
They stifled her
With her own pillow.

Maximin.
Who says that?

Stephen.
The man
Runs wild who did it, through the streets, and howls it,
Then imitates her voice, and softly sobs
“Lay me in Santa Chiara.”

SCENE VI.

NAPLES. BEFORE THE PALACE. AMONG GUARDS. Maximin. Durazzo.
Maximin.
Gallant prince!
Conqueror of more than men, of more than heroes!
What may that soldier merit who deserts
His post, and lets the enemy to the tent?

Durazzo.
Death is the sentence.

Maximin.
Sign that sentence then.
I shall be found beside a new-made grave
In Santa Chiara.

Durazzo.
Art thou mad?

Maximin.
I shall be
If you delay.

Durazzo
(to Guards).
See this man into Hungary.

SCENE VII.

NAPLES. MONASTERY GARDEN.
Rupert
(alone).
There are some pleasures serious men sigh over,
And there are others maniacs hug in chains:
I wonder what they are: I would exchange
All mine for either, all that e'er were mine.
I have been sadly treated my whole life,
Cruelly slighted, shamefully maligned:
And this too will be laid upon my shoulders.
If men are witty, all the wit of others
Bespangles them; if criminal, all crimes
Are shoveled to their doors.
God knows how truly
I wisht her life; not her imprisonment
More truly. Maximin and Agatha
In the queen's life would never have come forth.
Men of late years have handled me so roughly,
I am become less gentle than I was.
Derision, scoffs and scorns, must be rebuft,
Or we can do no good in act or counsel.
Respect is needful, is our air, our day,
'Tis in the sight of men we see ourselves,
Without it we are dark and halt and speechless.
Religion in respect and power hath being,
And perishes without them. Power I hold:
Why shun men's looks? why my own thoughts . . afraid?
No, I am not afraid: but phantasies
Long dwelt on let us thro'.
If I do quail,
'Tis not the mind, the spirit; 'tis the body.

A Monk
(entering).
Father I come from Muro, where a woman
(Sickly before) for days refused all food,
And now is dead.

Rupert.
What is her name?

Monk.
One Agatha.

Rupert.
Did she receive the holy Sacrament?

Monk.
You must have known she did, else why such joy?
She would receive nought else.

Rupert.
Then she is safe.

Monk.
We trust in God she is: yet she herself
Had pious doubt.

Rupert.
Of what was her discourse?

Monk.
Her mind, ere she departed, wandered from her.

Rupert.
What did she talk about? dost hear?

Monk.
She said,
“Rupert, if he could see me, might be” . . .

Rupert.
What?

Monk.
Her mind, observe, was wandering.

Rupert.
Thine is too.
Tell me the very word she uttered.

Monk.
“Saved.”
Blessings upon her! your uplifted hands
And radiant brow announce her present bliss.

Rupert.
Said she no more?

Monk.
“Since he's not here, take these,
And let the friar and his brotherhood
Say masses for my soul: it may do good
To theirs no less.”
I stoopt the holy taper,
And through her fingers and her palm could see
That she held something: she had given it
But it dropt out of them: this crucifix,
From which the square-set jewels were removed,
And this broad golden piece, with its long chain
Of soft dark hair, like our late queen Giovanna's.

Rupert.
Her medal . . anno primo . . All goes right.

Monk.
Your blessing!

Rupert.
Take it, pr'ythee, and begone. [Monk goes.

Nothing has hurt me: none have seen me. None?
Ye saints of heaven! hath ever prayer been miss'd?
Penance, tho' hard, been ever unperform'd?
Why do ye then abandon me? like one
Whom in your wrath ye hurl aside; like one
Scathed by those lightnings which God's sleepless eye
Smites earth with, and which devils underneath,
Feeling it in the abysses of the abyss,
Rejoice was not for them.
Repent I did . .
Even of Agatha I did repent.
I did repent the noble friends had fallen.
Could they not have been wiser, and escaped,
By curbing evil passions, pride, distrust,
Defiance? It was wrong in them: in me
'Twas not quite well: 'twas harsh, 'twas merciless:
Andrea had not done it: wrong'd, betray'd,
Andrea had not done it.
Have my words
Sorcery in them? do they wake the dead?
Hide thy pale face, dear boy! hide from my sight
Those two dark drops that stain thy scanty beard,
Hide those two eyes that start so! Curse me, kill me;
'Twere mercy, 'twere compassion, not revenge;
Justice, the echo of God's voice, cries More!
I can endure all else.
I will arise,
Push off this rack that rends me, rush before him
And ask him why he made me what I am.

(Enter Officers.)
First Officer.
Traitor! the king hath traced all thy devices.

Rupert.
Without them he had ne'er been what ye style him.

Second Officer.
Avowest thou thy perfidy?

Rupert.
And his.

Third Officer.
Murderer! thou shalt confess.

Rupert.
'Twere royal bounty.

Third Officer.
And die.

Rupert.
'Twere more than royal.

First Officer.
Come thy way.

Rupert.
My way? my way? . . I've travell'd it enough,
With or without thee I will take another.

Second Officer.
Whither!

Rupert
(points to the window).
Look yonder!
There it lies. [Stabs himself.

Andrea!

First Officer
(after a pause).
Merciful God! end thus his many crimes?

Third Officer
(after a pause).
What moans and piteous wailings from the street!

Second Officer.
Can they arise for him so suddenly?

First Officer.
There are too many. None hath told the deed
Beyond this spot, none seen it.

Third Officer.
Now you hear
Distinctly; if distinctly may be heard
The wail of thousands.

Second Officer.
Their queen's name they cry . .

Third Officer.
With blessings.

First Officer.
Now, at last, ye know Giovanna;
And now will Rupert too be known, tho' late.