University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Tornabuoni. Del Nero. Ridolfi.
TORNABUONI.
What tidings from Sarzana?

DEL NERO.
None as yet.
Save Ludovico's gird when Piero craved
Excuse for having missed him on the road:
“One of us two hath missed his road, 'tis plain,
But 'tis not I, I warrant.”

RIDOLFI.
Much I fear
The gird was true. Purblind in confidence
While the French King yet dallied by the way,
Now that the lazy gonfalons of Charles
Unfurl and flap towards Florence, Piero makes
Obeisance forward.

DEL NERO.
No worse policy.
How otherwise Lorenzo snatched the State
From imminence of peril, fronting full
A foe declared, yet knitting friends betimes,
Making a turncoat of fixed fate itself,
And outmanœuvring mightiest menaces.
Would he were living now!

TORNABUONI.
Yet we must stand
Fast by the son, that by the father stood.
I never will desert him.

RIDOLFI.
Softly, boy!
Who hinted at desertion? But, if one
You pluck back from a precipice should plunge
Over its edge, would you still follow him?

TORNABUONI.
No; but 'twere well, lest Piero's foot should slip
Through mere mischance, like daring mountaineers
To rope ourselves together.

DEL NERO.
So we should,
If he in desperate ventures were expert.
But far from risking on the slippery height
Of absolute contention all he hath,
Lo! he goes crawling to the French King's camp,
And seeks his safety in glib lowliness.
Already potent Ottimati, like
Bonsi, Corsini, and Vespucci, join
Their hands with brawling levellers, to run
His pennon from the mast-head of the State.

RIDOLFI.
And have you noted in the public streets
Men of unwonted steadiness of eye,
And handling weapons of another time,
Such as Michele Lando and his band
Of carders brandished ninety years ago
In this same Florence?

DEL NERO.
Likewise the great Guilds
And Crafts of Industry are all astir,
Foremost among them those of wool and silk.
There's mischief manufacturing.

TORNABUONI.
Sure enough.
And can I cast a ravel in their skein,
Trust me to do it.

RIDOLFI.
You will be well employed;
Better, by far, than lavishing your breath
In the vain chase of a maid's tortuous whims.

TORNABUONI.
The circle of her beauty draws me in.

RIDOLFI.
Then have a care it does not drag you down.
Fie on you, boy! Women should never be
More than the narrow margin of our life,
Past whom its text runs on continuously.

TORNABUONI.
A truth more promptly ta'en to head than heart.

DEL NERO.
Yet, fervent youth, bear it in memory!
Nor struck there ever timelier hour than this
For purging fancy's sedentary sighs
With draughts of action. Take it from me, boy,
There's no such physic for the love-sick soul
As the brisk air of public policy.
The Signory have summoned in hot haste
This evening a Grand Council. You be there,
As will I and Ridolfi. Fare you well,
Until the Council be convened. How short
Churlish November cuts the genial day!

RIDOLFI.
Under long nights conspiracies can hide.

TORNABUONI.
Be it ours, then, to uncloak them.

[Exeunt Del Nero and Ridolfi (left). Enter Candida and Letizia (right). They do not observe Tornabuoni.]
CANDIDA.
Yes, to-night,
After the Council. When the stars are high,
We'll roam together. Mind you fail me not.

LETIZIA.
There never offered the occasion, sweet,
Of sunning me in your warm gaze, but I
Was quickly perched there. Until then, farewell.

[Letizia exit (right). Candida turns to cross the stage; and, after advancing a few steps, sees Tornabuoni, and halts.]
TORNABUONI.
Think of the angels! For of you I thought
That very instant! But is instant none
I do not think of you.

CANDIDA.
Sir, think no more
Of one so little worthy of your thoughts.

TORNABUONI.
'Tis I that am unworthy, well I know,
To house so rich a guest in my poor mind.
But you have entered there and must not quit.
I'll try to furnish it with noble thoughts,
So that you may not feel a stranger in it.

CANDIDA.
No need to furnish it anew for me.
With nobleness it is already stocked;
And, by that nobleness, I beg you will
Keep it—well, not for me.

TORNABUONI.
If not, for whom?
Surely we are betrothed?

CANDIDA.
O sir! by whom?
By one who never had the power to bind.
Lorenzo mated us for policy,
I never yielding even mute assent.
Be noble, and forget me!

TORNABUONI.
Hath the will
Power over memory? I shall forget
When all I am pales to oblivion,
But not before.

CANDIDA.
Then think of me as one
To whom you inclined graciously and got
Best reverence in return. There! let us part.

[She is going to pass him, but he bars the way.]
TORNABUONI.
Not in this wise, and never in this world,
Unless it be some other have secured
The prize I wrestle for. Tell me out plain:
Is your heart yours to give, or is't enslaved
Unto Valori?

CANDIDA.
Sir, I think you fail
Somewhat in courtesy. My heart is Heaven's:
No earthly tenant yet hath entered there;
Nor, saving you, hath any sought to force
His way in without knocking.

TORNABUONI
(aside).
That is why
They stand without. No chaste maid lifts the latch.
But open it yourself, they lack the strength
To thrust you forth!
[He draws nearer to her.]
Your hand was placed in mine.
Lorenzo plighted us, and that pledge I
Sealed with my melting love, as now I stamp
Myself upon your lips.

[He kisses her by force. Enter (right) Savonarola, Frà Domenico, and Frà Silvestro.]
SAVONAROLA.
Lorenzo Tornabuoni! What is this?
A noble maiden! you, not noble less,
Outrage her modesty!

TORNABUONI.
We are betrothed.

CANDIDA.
Pardon him, Frà Girolamo, as I,
Freely forgive. But this, in right to me:
If it be true I plighted am to him,
'Twas by Lorenzo, shortly ere he died,
For public ends.

SAVONAROLA.
Fie on you, sir, to claim
A bond like that, which Heaven's self hath made void,
Void in its sight before. Go you, my child,
With Frà Silvestro: he will tend you home;
Though I can read in every lineament
You have a guardian angel of your own.

[Exeunt (left) Frà Silvestro and Candida. Savonarola and Frà Domenico gaze after them.]
TORNABUONI
(aside).
Curse on these shaven pates that claim to stand
Betwixt the soul and body! But that kiss
Will sound her soul unto its very depths,
And fetch her up her secret.

[Exit (right).]
FRÀ DOMENICO.
See! he hath gone, nor waited to be chid.

SAVONAROLA.
His conscience chides him sharper than can I,
Or he had fled not. Ah! how happy we,
The lawless ardour of whose fleshly lusts
In the cool cloister are extinguishëd.
But we must be indulgent to the heat
Of the unscreened world. I do remember me
How at Ferrara, in my glowing youth,
A daughter of a Florentine exiled
From this contentious city, with a look
Transfixed my heart. She was a Strozzi, but,
She not being born in wedlock, I conceived
His pride might stoop to me, a lowly youth;
But God, who loved me better than all love
Of man or maiden, kept me for His work.
They scorned me,—but enough. Only, my son,
Love, if it happy or unhappy be,
Treat you indulgently.

FRÀ DOMENICO.
This maid would wed
The loveless pallet of a convent cell.

SAVONAROLA.
I know it; but 'twould be to injure Heaven
Did we the sad and sinking world deprive
Of such sweet household leaven, which should be kept
To make some good man's soul rise higher still,
And lighten his life's heaviness. Come, my son!
We must go pray the Holy Spirit to be
With the Grand Council.

[Exeunt (left). Simultaneously enter (right) Salviati, accompanied by a strong band of armed Piagnoni.]