University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A STREET IN MANTUA, NEAR A CHAPEL.
Enter Angiolina.
ANGIOLINA.
He is not come! Oh! I am faint with fear!
'Tis a bye street, but should some passer-by
By chance walk through it, I should die with shame!
What! hiding here alone—at dusk!—bow'd down
With consciousness of wrong! Would he were come!
If soon he comes not, I will hence to home!—
If soon he comes not, I will haste—will fly!
The twilight's thickening, thickening round me fast,
I scarce can see to the end of this short street,
'Twill soon be darkness! Cruel—dire suspense!
Cruel Hippolito! to leave me here,
Faint, shiv'ring with a host of hideous fears,—
An undistinguishable throng of thoughts,—
All terrible and torturing to my soul!
This danger that he threaten'd to our loves!
Can this have so detain'd him—can it be?
Ah! hath that threat'ning mine of secret danger
Exploded, making ruin of our hopes!
A step! it stops—another! Oh! 'tis him!
[Enter the Duke, with his mantle held up to his face.
Thou'rt come at last, Hippolito—my husband!
Oh! I have shudder'd—quiver'd like an aspen!
How, in a moment, thy reassuring presence
Hath changed my terrors into confidence!
But speak to me, yet reassure me more,—
Thy voice shall gladden me with deeper trust!
Not speak to me, Hippolito?—Still silent?
And with thy face thus muffled? Oh! once more,
How the agonising dread thrills through my heart—
A thousand madd'ning doubts distract me! Speak,
Hippolito, or I shall die!—Have pity!
Dost hear me? Heaven! 'tis not him!—who is't?

DUKE
(shewing himself and kneeling).
I!

ANGIOLINA.
Begone! Ha! treachery! Help!—begone! Oh! mercy!

DUKE.
A lover worthier of such queenly charms—
Such startling wonders of unrivall'd beauty,
Here claims thee—worships thee with heart on fire!

ANGIOLINA.
Wretch! for thy life, if not for my sake, fly!
Should my sworn lord and lover find thee here,
Despite thy royal station, ill sustain'd,
He will most surely slay thee at my feet!

DUKE.
Not as thou slayest me with those murdering frowns,
Ungentle lady! What! hast thou ne'er mark'd
The deep, entire devotion of my love?
But these are maidenly hypocrisies,—
Thou must have seen that I for long have loved thee.

ANGIOLINA.
Loved me! forgettest thou, then, Imelda?

DUKE.
Yes!
And all but Angiolina on this earth!

ANGIOLINA.
How can I pause to parley, e'en a moment,
With such a shameless and presumptuous traitor?
How dar'st thou come thus screen'd in night to insult me?
Ha! 'tis a horrid light breaks on me now!—
The dangers my Hippolito foresaw,—
Foresaw and told me of—I see it all!
'Twas thou he fear'd. The keen, quick eye of love
Had pierced the secret of that traitorous heart!
Yes, desolation of a new despair!
It was the Duke he fear'd—'twas therefore thus
He urged the abrupt, clandestine ceremonial!
(To the Duke.)
Where hides Hippolito? How knew'st thou, wretch!
That here at vesper hours we were to meet?
Oh! thou'st waylaid him, seized, withdrawn him, murder'd!
One word—one word—say but that still he lives!

DUKE.
He lives, indeed, but not for thee, my fairest!

ANGIOLINA.
Then I will die for him! Unhand me, monster!
Yet fear his vengeance, be most sure 'twill reach thee!
Hence!—leave my presence—touch me not—begone!

DUKE.
Hippolito is safe: but know, unkind one,
His safety may depend on thee,—thou'st heard!

ANGIOLINA.
Yes—I have heard! Oh! I will kneel to thee—
Implore thy pardon for thine own fierce outrage—
Stay like a statue—pale with supplication—
All breathless with the intenseness of my prayer—
Here at thy feet—here in the dust—here—here—
For ever! till thou say, “He is safe.” Behold me!
(Falls on her knees before him.
For him am I a meek petitioner
To one whom I would spurn wer't not for him!
Yet whom for him I should more wildly spurn—
Yet whom for him I feel more urged to spurn—
For him I scorn'd thee—for his sake forgive thee!—
Promise to guard thy secret—swear to thee
Thy traitorous conduct ne'er shall pass my lips!—

DUKE.
Traitorous?

ANGIOLINA.
Aye! traitorous! What! think'st thou, great Duke,
That none are traitors save they plot 'gainst princes?
What are the rebels 'gainst religion's edicts—
Against humanity and heaven at once,
Humanity's quick heart, and Heaven and Honour?
What—what art thou?—Ev'n at this very moment
Laying a snare for Innocency's feet,
I' the face of all the angels there above us!

DUKE.
Wilt thou be mine? This lengthen'd, vain resistance—

ANGIOLINA.
Resistance! Oh! let me yet have no cause—
Restore me to Hippolito!—think—think!
The holy man now waits to make us one,—
Dar'st thou dissever what already seems
Bound at the altar—a most sacred knot?
A curse will light upon thee! Back, I say!

DUKE.
Nay! shriek not for the sake of him thou lovest:
Thou must come hence with me, delay is vain—
If thou would'st save him!

ANGIOLINA.
No! I would not save him!—
To blush for me in bitterness of soul,
To live in loneliness of heart for ever—
In life-long, woful widowhood—in wretchedness—
Not deigning ev'n to mourn for what he loved;
Yet with that soul a void—where should be mourning!—
If he must die—if such thy guilty purpose,
Be his great heart crush'd midst its happiness!
Oh! let it fall asleep amidst its joy,
And never wake to sorrow or to shame!

DUKE.
Obey me!—come!

ANGIOLINA.
No, never!

DUKE.
I will make thee!

ANGIOLINA.
Unmake me first! destroy me—kill me—tear me,
Live limb from limb, and nerve from nerve! Strike, murderer!
Help! help! oh! help!
[Enter Azzo Durazzo.
Thou blessed man!—befriend me!—
Save me! oh! save me!

AZZO.
I will help thee, lady!—
(She hurries towards him, he seizes hold of her.)
Help thee to do the bidding of the Duke,—
Help to fulfil thy destiny and duty.

ANGIOLINA.
Off, miscreants! Oh, Hippolito! oh! save me!

(She is carried off.)