University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—A Banquetting Hall opening into a garden, and hung with pictures.—Servants.—Count Arrezi.
ARREZI
(Solus).
I have but little heart for this gay banquet:
Dangers and fears encompass me around;
I know the Castrucani doubts my faith,
I know Leoni loathes the coming marriage,
Which never will his fiery spirit see
Without a struggle; and with that must come
All that I thought to shun of strife and blood.
Ah! there are moments, when my thoughts have ask'd
The heart that beats with them—can this be life?
This gulf of troubled waters, where the soul,
Like a vex'd bark, is toss'd upon the waves
Of pain and pleasure, by the warring breath
Of passions, like the winds that drive it on,
And only to distraction.—
[Sees Claricha coming from the garden.
Ah! she comes;
The gentle orphan, whose sweet sight more soothes
My troubled soul, than aught in this wide world.
I love her, for I know she needs my love,
And something in her sadness suits with mine. Enter Claricha.

Welcome, my child! but how is this—the tears
Are in thine eyes Sweet one, why hast thou wept?

CLARICHA.
My spirits are not good, my lord.

ARREZI.
Thou art full young for sadness.

CLARICHA.
Ah, my lord,
'Tis not the old alone who know that life
Has but a weary way.

ARREZI.
My gentle child—
For ev'n as a child art thou to me—
Our life has many sorrows: and I think
Most bitterly is sorrow felt in youth.
Age comes and brings indifference: I grieve
Not as I used to grieve—I know the worst
Is but a painful dream that soon must pass.

CLARICHA.
Would I could think so!

ARREZI.
Believe me, maiden, could we read the past
In every heart, we should recoil to find
What weight of misery has been endured.

CLARICHA.
Ah me! unequal are the lots in life.

ARREZI.
More nearly are they balanced than we deem;
The outward life shows not the life within.
I am about to welcome in these walls
The Count Castruccio, and he is received
As the affianced lover of my daughter;
The crowd will only see the pomp and power,
And know not how the irrevocable past
Rises in all its darkness on my soul.
I hate the Castrucani's iron house.

CLARICHA.
Hate them, my lord?

ARREZI.
Is it the sadness in those gentle eyes
That suits my mood? but in thee, my fair child,
Is that which, winning on my confidence,
Soothes the old sorrow which it seems to share.
Since that first hour, when but a trembling girl
I met thee flying from the Florentines,
My heart warm'd to thee as thou wert my own.
Perhaps it is that in thy face and voice
There is a touch that brings again the face,
The voice, that once made heaven on earth to me.
'Twas but a dream of youth!

CLARICHA.
Can such dreams pass?

ARREZI.
Oh, never wholly can they be forgotten:
Good cause have I to hate the Castrucani!
I loved the loveliest lady of their line,
And wedded her in secret. Brief the space
That fate allow'd our moonlit happiness—
We were surprised together. From that hour
A settled darkness hangs upon her fate.
The drug or dagger did their fatal work
So secretly, that not a trace was left.
A dungeon was my share—for three long years
They held me captive, I escaped the third,
But never could I learn my lady's doom!

CLARICHA.
Ah! such a parting well might break the heart.

ARREZI.
Time brings strange chances, when a child of mine
Weds with the Castrucani—but in vain
Age seeks to struggle with its destiny;
I'm worn and weary—all I seem to wish
Is but a little rest before I die.

CLARICHA.
Speak not so mournfully, my own kind friend,
Think how affection girdles you around,
How gratitude puts up its prayer to heaven,
Whene'er the orphan names Arrezi's name.

ARREZI.
My own sweet child, would thou wert truly mine!
I've sadden'd where at first we meant to cheer.
We'll talk of grief no more; I pray you cast
Your eye around, and see that all be set
In fair array. I must now seek Leoni—
(going.)
I had forgotten what I meant to say—
You and Bianca must be brave to-night.
I bade my pages carry to your chamber
Some toys and gauds I trust will please your fancy.

Claricha.
You are too kind.

ARREZI.
Nay, I am only glad
To give so slight a pleasure.

[Exit.
CLARICHA.
It is in vain—I cannot fix my thoughts
On aught but him. Amino, no, Castruccio!
How have I pray'd for years that we might meet—
We meet, and only meet to part for ever.
I know not what I look upon—all things
Repeat his likeness—I can hear his voice,
Or is it but the beating of my heart?
The Count Leoni here? Let me escape,
I could not bear his idle gallantry.
—(Looks round.)
This column will conceal me.

Enter the Count Leoni, followed by Arrezi.
ARREZI.
It is too desperate!

LEONI.
So are our fortunes!
We are the ladders of Castruccio's greatness,
Used, then flung down.

ARREZI.
Nay, we must rise with him.

LEONI.
One of our noble house should scorn such rise;
Ancestral is our hatred, dark with time!
And seal'd on either side with blood. To-day
Cannot undo the work of many years.

ARREZI.
Where are the well-laid schemes of yesterday?

LEONI.
Lost by your own weak fears: he should have died.
Castruccio's only prison is the grave!

ARREZI.
But still to slay him—coming as my guest
In my own halls—

LEONI.
The strong may choose their time,
The weak take opportunity to strike.

ARREZI.
I cannot—dare not.

LEONI.
Dare not, is the word;
I'll dare for both. Now listen, uncle mine;
Bianca is my own betrothed bride!
Castruccio shall not wed her; that alone
Were cause enough to float these halls with blood:
He is our house's ancient enemy,
And, but for him, no citizen would dare
Raise hand against the nobles; he must die!

ARREZI.
But yet some fitter time.

LEONI.
The hour for action is the present hour!
Defeat and danger wait upon delay.
Castruccio will be here to-night, unarm'd,
His surest friends beside him; they will fall,
None to avenge. Our friends are all prepared;
A secret band of Florentines now lie
In ambush by the city's western gate,
Whose keeper I have gain'd. I haste to seek them
Bearing the orders of the Count Gonsalvi,
Who'll meet them at the gate and lead them on.
Castruccio slain—the people overawed,
Henceforth our triumph is secure.

ARREZI.
It will be bought too dearly.

LEONI.
Danger will only heighten our success.

ARREZI.
'Tis not the danger, 'tis the treachery.

LEONI.
I've heard the treachery of the Castrucani
Gave you three years of prison in your youth.

ARREZI.
Do not recall that bitter time again.

LEONI.
I must recall its memory—let it cry
For vengeance at our hands. I will away;
Short time is mine to reach the Florentines,
And yet return to grace the festival:
My entrance at the banquet is the signal!

ARREZI.
Castruccio may miss you from the halls
Whose heir should be the first to bid him welcome!

LEONI.
A little colouring gives truth to falsehood,
Tell him I'm jealous of Bianca's smile.

ARREZI.
But—

LEONI.
Buts are the stumbling-blocks of enterprise,
We will not have them.

ARREZI.
The risk is fearful—do not think Castruccio
Will yield without a struggle. How can I
Stand by and see him murder'd?

LEONI.
Out on such scruples! Hear me, Count Arrezi!
Go to Castruccio's feet, and tell him all;
Give up your kinsmen and your ancient friends,
And henceforth be his vassal. For ourselves,
We are prepared to die, though not prepared
To perish by your act.

ARREZI.
You know no death could tempt me to betray you.

LEONI.
You have your choice—his life or ours!

ARREZI.
Leoni, I am now a man in years,
Broken and wayworn, and I lack the force
To lead or stem the tide of your fierce spirits;
On either hand is death!

LEONI.
That of your friends and foes is at your choice.

ARREZI.
I have no choice.

LEONI.
Then, neither can you be responsible.
But now I must away—time hurries on,
One parting word—be calm and resolute.

[Exit.
ARREZI.
Hear me one moment more!

(Follows him.)
CLARICHA
(Coming forward).
Thank God, I have heard all! oh, give me strength
To fly and save him!

[Exit.