University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE THIRD.

Cosmo, Piero.
Cos.
Piero, speak.

Pi.
My mother's prophecies
In part are true. An execrable pest

18

Rises among us.

Cos.
Where I reign, no pest
Exists that can mature; e'en from the roots
It shall be torn up: speak.

Pi.
I know full well
That all depends on thee: of every wound
Thou art the sovereign healer; hence I seek
In thee alone a speedy remedy.—
Erewhile there rose, 'twixt Garcia and Diego,
A war of words: their fury with great pains
I check'd; but certainly 'tis not extinguish'd.
Inflamed, and fierce, Garcia went out: with prayers,
Mingled with force, Diego I restrain'd:
The aggressor he will never be, no never;
But, from the other, if one look escape,
One word, one gesture to provoke him, heavens!
I tremble to reflect on what may follow.

Cos.
Perpetual discord; I already knew it:
But what new provocation hath impell'd them
To yield to such ungovernable rage?

Pi.
When thou erewhile didst quit us, we remain'd
In earnest conference. Diego, fired
In words as well as deeds with noble ardour,
With that imposing frankness he possesses,
Openly blamed his brother Garcia,
(And blamed, methinks, not wrongfully,) that he,
Alone, dared in thy presence to defend
The guilty cause of Salviati. Pierced
E'en to his inmost heart (for the rebuke
Was too well founded,) Garcia had recourse
To threats against his brother: and had he
Outraged Diego only! ... but to thee

19

I ought not to repeat that which escaped,
While hot with passion, from his breast: and perhaps
He thought it not; anger sometimes excites
To utter that which is not. And to me,
While I essay'd to reconcile them both,
He darted pungent and injurious words:
But this imports not.—'Tis expedient now,
That he should hear the thunder of thy voice,
So that this contest gain no further strength.

Cos.
There is no doubt; all things convince me of it:
Garcia, that impious son, betrays his sire,
His lord, his honour, and himself, at once.
He would, by this aggression on Diego,
Obliquely wound his father: he assumes
Blind confidence from blind maternal love;
And to the highest pitch audacity
In him is risen. Erewhile, I wish'd to hear
If he would dare deliberately disclose
The vile and guilty friendship in my presence
That he hath long encouraged in his heart:
And it is not to me, oh no! unknown,
As much as witlessly he thinks it is.

Pi.
Thou, then, indeed dost know it, that he is
Clandestinely of Salviati?

Cos.
Yes;
I know it; thoroughly convinced ...

Pi.
Himself,
Against his will ...

Cos.
And why have ye conceal'd
It hitherto from me?

Pi.
He is our brother ...

Cos.
And am not I the father of you all?


20

Pi.
I hoped, indeed, that to the path of duty
He would return; and still I dare to hope it.
Still in that unripe age are we, thou seest,
When man is most apt to be led astray.
Each of us might, caught in such snares, become
Guilty of similar failings.

Cos.
Ah! no snares
Could ever make you traitors: for ye are, ...
Diego, and thyself ...

Pi.
Diego never;
I hope so of myself; and every man
Affirms it of himself while he is sane.
But who can answer for the consequence,
If love, the enemy of reason, rule him?

Cos.
What say'st thou? Love!

Pi.
If thou reflect on this,
Less heinous will his fault appear to thee.

Cos.
Love, say'st thou? Love for whom?

Pi.
Thou know'st it, father.

Cos.
I know that he's a traitor; that he oft
Dares meet in secret interview, at night,
With Salviati in my palace, here,
But that love prompted him, I never knew:
What may this love be? Speak.

Pi.
Ah wretched me! ...
I would excuse him, and I have accused him.

Cos.
Speak: I command thee; and hide nothing from me,
Or I ...

Pi.
Ah! father, pardon him, I pray,
This youthful indiscretion, and ascribe
Nothing that he does to a will depraved.
Love only makes him seem a traitor. He

21

Loves guilty Salviati's guiltless daughter:
The gentle Julia, whom thou hast perchance
Retain'd a hostage for her father's faith,
Among th'illustrious damsels in thy court;
Julia he loves; she, ere scarce seen, inflamed him.
He loves her secretly; and, loved again,
He lives in sweet though ineffectual hope.
Now that the father of a maid beloved
Should not seem guilty to her paramour,
Why should this seem so wonderful to thee?

Cos.
All men then know the errors of my sons
More than myself? All men excuse them? hide them?
His partial mother incontestably
Is privy also to this guilty secret;
And seconds it perchance ...

Pi.
In truth, I think not ...
But yet, who knows ...

Cos.
This simulated love
What can it be, except a specious veil
For future treasons? Can my son be dear
To Julia for his own sake? Is she not
The daughter of my foe? And hath she not,
E'en with her milk, imbibed hatred for me,
And for my blood? Deep treasons are conceal'd
Beneath this love: the daughter, doubtlessly,
Is made an instrument of his revenge
By the shrewd father; I am not mistaken.
And my own son? ...

Pi.
Perchance thou construest well
Their secret schemes: but think it not of Garcia:
A fervid love assuredly excites him;
And the blind guide doth often not conduct

22

To a good path: perchance he hence has err'd.
Now that thou know'st the whole do thou restrain him,
But with a gentle rein: do not so act,
That I with reason may regret to-day
That I've betray'd, although by chance I did it,
His jealous amorous secret. It is true,
He never told it to me; but he is
Reserved to all, and most so to his brothers:
But yet I knew it.—Now, since I have said it,
Turn it to his advantage. Wean him, father,
From this disgraceful fondness; and at once
Appease his unjust rage against his brothers.

Cos.
Thou hast done well to speak: a son and subject
It was thy duty; I shall seek to know
More of this matter.—But Diego comes.