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.
Now for disguises; now for masks; steel, silk;
Nothing in these days does but maskery.
Pages talk, sing, ride with you, sleep beside you,
For years: behold-ye! some fine April-day
They spring forth into girls, with their own faces,
Tricks, tendernesses . . . ne'er a mark of saddle!
(Herald enters.)
Bacco! this is not one of them, however!
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.
So, Stephen! we Hungarians are sent off.
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!
