 | Salvator, the Poor Man of Naples |  |
Scene II.
—State Apartment.Salvator
alone (seated by a Column).
How long will Freedom tarry? and to Man,
Man other seem that in his Maker's eyes?
And Wealth and Power, that should be Virtue's badges,
Give Lewdness means to cater for itself,
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While Indignation sits aloof in Heaven,
Brooding in vain upon the wrongs of earth?
O! this it is, makes Conscience infidel,
And private Judgement beard Authority,
And stung Rebellion in revengeful hearts
Strike at usurped dominion! This it is,
Wherewith the womb of Nature groans in pain,
Till her deliverance come! O, Italy!
Even now thou'rt teeming with a mighty birth,
And Prophets hail thee both in speech and song;
Poets, who call thee by the name of Love,
And celebrate with passionate ecstasy;
And Orators, whose inspired eloquence
Would half create a people from the stones
That pave the City's streets. One, at this hour,
Is pleading, Rome! unto thy popular heart,
And thou art trembling as Rienzi speaks.
While Naples—O great Heaven! I must no more—
The hand of age is on me! Down, my soul!
Time was, when thoughts like these had been the throes
Of resolution; but abortive now
The travail of my once too pregnant mind!
Enter Sancha.
Sancha.
Salvator here?
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I wait the Queen, dear child!
Meseemed it were bad manners, should I quit
Her court, without again her presence seeking,
And bidding farewell to her Majesty.
Sancha.
You will, then, leave us?
Salvator.
Yes. Told you the Queen?
Sancha.
I have. Her Majesty is busy with
Letters from Louis, King of Hungary;
Nay, now is so disturbed, it were not meet
You should intrude. “Alas!” she says, “she has not
Shown you example of much courtesy—
She's shamed, indeed—O, most unhappy time!”
Salvator.
O, grief, indeed, to Naples!
Sancha.
More to her—
Have you not heard, that the Hungarian Louis
Charges our Mistress with his brother's murder,
Citing her to appear, and plead her cause,
Before Rome's Tribune, the upstart Rienzi?
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Girl! say you so? Rienzi—
Sancha.
Even he—
Salvator.
The noblest spokesman of the liberties
Of man, that ever thrilled man's raptured ear,
With speech more beautiful than song,—because
Its theme is music, and, being such itself,
Needeth not such for foreign ornament.
Sancha.
A Queen to plead her cause before a man,
Whose parents kept an inn, and washed for hire
The linen of their betters!
Salvator
(after a long pause).
Can it be?—
[Intently gazing at her.
Sancha.
What mean you, father?
Salvator.
Come, girl! tell me true—
Or rumour lies, or Petrarch oft has been
Guest at the Court of Naples?
Sancha.
Many a time—
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He was Rienzi's friend, while that Rienzi
Was servant unto others; Petrarch, girl!
Was this Rienzi's friend; and Petrarch was
Thought fit by your good Queen to grace her Court,
Being a scholar. Why should not Rienzi,
Being a scholar too, and Petrarch's friend,
Be worthy of a Court? He's now Rome's Tribune,
And might have been her King. And who art thou
That scorn'st his humble parentage?
Sancha.
The daughter
Of Count Evoli—
Salvator.
I have lived too long!
I thought you loved me, and my heart grew to you,
And blessed you, as you hovered round my couch.
Sancha.
Strange had it been, if bred in courts, I'd lacked
Of courtesy, where duty, sir, no less than
The Countess's commands, had bid me reverence.
Salvator.
Duty! commands!—not nature, and free love!
Now I could prophesy. The air around
Is full of spirits' voices, and their pressure
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To judge her cause, more than an honest man?
I, as an honest man, acquit her now;
Yet, were I named her judge, think you, she'd scorn
To take acquittal from me, not being Tribune,
Because I am an humble fisherman?
You're silent! Thank the heavens! I have seen your soul!
Farewell, I now shall die: nor leave behind
An object of regret!
Sancha.
I meant not, sir,
To move you so—
Salvator.
No, girl!—I do but dote!
Let me embrace you once more as an equal,
And then farewell! God bless you! Fare you well!
[Hurries out.
Sancha
(alone).
What have I said, to wrong his nature thus?
I feel a sinner, yet am ignorant
Of my transgression! Weeping, he returns—
Re-enter Salvator.
Salvator.
Girl! live—be happy! All the Saints upon you
[She kneels.
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And keep away the evils that I dread—
Once more, farewell!—and holy angels guard you!
[Exit Salvator.
Sancha
(alone).
Alas! I tremble with the mystery,
That makes his venerable passion seem
The inspiration of a Seer's rapture!
All is enigma too! The Queen's perplexed,
The Countess and the Seneschal suspected!
Why is all this? But I must to my duty—
Darkling, a shadow gathers on our path!
[Exit.
Enter Balzo and Duchess of Durazzo.
Balzo.
Not one must quit the palace; therefore, lady,
Pardon this interruption.
Duchess.
Before Heaven!
I knew not of the absence of the Duke—
Balzo.
I doubt it nothing; still thy princely lord,
I must repeat, has fled. The proofs against him
Are strong and most direct.
Duchess.
It cannot be—
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With an Italian soul, I must admit;
Might have desired his death, or on occasion
Have compassed it; this I would not deny:
But that he had occasion, or thereof
Availed himself, the contrary I know.
And much I wish he had not fled from Naples,
Since misconstruction may to mischief ripen!
But I will to my sister, our good Queen.
Balzo.
That I permit. But deem not your persuasion
Can with her Majesty avail you aught.
She has herself divested of control,
Putting the business wholly in my charge,
And I will sift it with a loyal spirit.
[Exeunt.
Re-enter Salvator and Giulio.
Salvator.
Barred from immediate egress—say, good Giulio!
If you have so much knowledge, what imports it?
You look dejected, boy! and shake your head—
By the command of Hugh del Balzo, (thus
Were we informed,) the palace-gates were closed
On all its dwellers; not a soul might stir
Of those within its walls! So back must we;
We are prisoners here—nor you, nor I, alone—
But all. Can you not speak?
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Grief makes me dumb!
And ignorance stifles what I else would say!
This know I only, I am innocent
Of Andreas' murder.
Salvator.
So am I, boy! Ha!
Blood will have dreadful inquisition! Well!
Boy! Your clear conscience keep you unabashed!
Look up!—Why drooping still?
Giulio.
You know not, then,
The Countess is suspected with her lord,
Her son, her household?
Salvator.
Justice! blindly swooping,
Wilt thou make sudden clearance? Wrath, not Justice!
Murder for murder! Where are human hearts?
Giulio.
Mine, sir! is wrung already with a doubt
That sits on it, like death! The Lady Sancha!
Salvator.
Thou lovest her? Tush, boy, she is a child!
She's safe, whoe'er's in peril!
84
Out! alas!
Thou little know'st such things as these! Wo's me!
I'm native to the curse!
[Exit.
Salvator.
Where is Philippa?
Enter Philippa.
Philippa.
Here, honored father!
Salvator.
Honored! ay, indeed—
The father of a Countess! So they call thee!
O, Countess, truly! Rank, thou wert not born to,
Has been thy ruin! Tell me, has it not?
Philippa.
Indeed, there's much to dread!
Salvator.
There's much to dread?
There's all to dread! O, madness of ambition!
O, had you been contented to remain
The humble nurse, that was your office first,
Nor aimed at rule, where principalities
Sit on their authorised and natal thrones,
All had been safe—all had been very safe!
An honorable name, too, had been thine,
The foster-mother to a line of princes—
85
The hated appellation! Heaven and Earth!
Was never misery so completely wretched!
Philippa.
In this deep trouble, let my tranquil soul
Have leave to wait on judgement!
Salvator.
I have done—
I but usurp a right, which long disuse
Has taken from me. The sacrificer's come,
Together with their victims! Agony!
Enter Queen, Duchess, Sancha, Giulio, Evoli, Terlizi, and others.
Queen.
Our palace is our prison, good Salvator!
Else 'twere not thine!
Salvator.
A bitter verity!
Queen.
It is not civil to translate my words,
Into a deeper meaning—
Salvator.
I have no choice—
I speak but as an idiot.
(To Terlizi.)
Hither, Count!
Didst thou not wed my daughter?
86
Ay, Salvator!
Nor have repented since—
Salvator.
Thou hadst no reason—
Would she had none!
Queen.
Salvator! doubt not
Our will, or power!
Salvator.
I put no trust in princes!
—Where is my grandchild?
Sancha
(kneeling).
Here, sir, at thy feet!
Salvator.
Why liest thou there?
Sancha.
For pardon!
Salvator.
Wherefore, girl?
Sancha.
For that unconscious fault I late transgressed in!
Salvator.
There is more grace in you, my dearest girl!
87
Up to my heart! there grow—but oh! I fear
The soil's so worn, that thou must wither there!
[Raising and embracing her.
What wait we for?
Sancha.
For Hugh del Balzo. Now,
Here, at this time, he promised to pronounce
His final sentence, and adjudicate.
—Here comes his messenger—
Enter Talano.
Talano.
The Chancellor sends
His greeting, to prepare your Majesty.
He's at the palace-gates with troops, and prays
Admission—
Queen.
Troops! Admit him, ne'ertheless!
My word is passed—
[Exit Talano.
Philippa.
Thy word is passed! With troops?
Would he besiege the palace? Ha!
[The Gates at the back of the Scene fly open. Balzo, with Soldiers, Roberto, and Geronimo, enter.
The Monks!
I see it now!
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Astonishment, Sir Hugh!
Well nigh had silenced us. Yet can we question
This strange proceeding.
Balzo.
Strange means are needful,
When not alone great crimes, but criminals,
Have to be brought to justice.
Queen.
Whom accuse you?
Balzo.
More than are present. Great Durazzo's Duke
Has fled to Louis, to complete the treason
He here commenced.
Duchess.
'Tis false!
Balzo.
I bear the sword
Of Justice, lady; and demand respect.
Queen.
You're right in that. Proceed.
Balzo.
Of those now present,
I claim to attach the Seneschal Terlizi,
The Countess of Montoni, Count Evoli,
And Lady Sancha—
89
A mere child! Save her,
Wouldst scape the charge of malice!
Balzo.
Peasant, peace!
Be thankful your low nestings challenge not
The storm that shatters turrets, where the eagles
Their perilous eyries build!
Salvator.
I do submit:
Yet—by the wondrous patience of the poor,
Their baffled sympathies for happiness,
For comfort, and all the decent usages,—
I pray you, hear me!
Balzo.
Peace!
Salvator
(aside).
So chained they once
Prometheus to a rock, whose suffering
Most tragic passion was! So chain they me—
And I, like him, must bear!
[Salvator watches the progress of the ensuing scene with intense emotion.
Queen.
What are your proofs?
Balzo.
The evidence of these two pious friars.
90
How?
Balzo.
If your Majesty will please to listen,
What prejudice soe'er you may have cherished,
You will abandon.
Queen.
Well!
Balzo.
Unwilling witness
Is each; for both had fled with the Hungarians,
And were brought back by force—the rather, since
I had remarked it was the wont of one,
To note, each day, the accidents thereof,
Within a table-book or diary,
He kept about his person.
Queen.
Which is he?
Balzo.
Geronimo.
Queen.
Go on—
Balzo.
The Monk secured, after much pains,
I wrung this record from him. Here it is—
Wherein, at better leisure, you may read,
How often Duke Durazzo publicly
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The Seneschal's, and all his household's. Oft
Would they be seen, even in your Majesty's
And royal Andreas' presence, grouped together,
Having most evident business apart,
Wherein you might not share. Next, on the night
Of the assassination, they were nigh
The very spot; nay, more; Roberto tempted,
And sounded him with treasonous provocation.
Last, came the assassins, who are known to have sought
The Duke Durazzo, then in company
With those now present, and by him were shown
To the King's chamberlain, and, afterwards,
Were of that officer enquired about,
With vehement speech and gesture.
Queen.
But meanwhile,
The Countess sat with us within our chamber,
Waiting return of our departed consort,
Who, to our sorrow, never did return!
Balzo.
Uneasily, as you have oft confessed,
And wondrously impatient of his absence,
And, as by instinct led, which might be knowledge,
Found out the murder first—but yet too late,
For its prevention.
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Should it be so, let
The world sink into chaos, for the columns
It rests on crumble daily!
Salvator.
Manifest
And proper fraud! Think of the plot, the monk
Would have contrived with me. Is that, too, noted
Within his table-book?
Balzo.
Poor, erring peasant!
The converse you refer to, there is written,
But wears a different hue from what you gave it,
And shows your ignorance misinterpreter
Of speech not innocent only, but well meant.
Salvator.
Wo to the world! that clerkly skill, for ends
Divinest meant, should be to such abused!
Queen.
What answer makes the Countess?
Philippa.
Innocence!
Queen.
But—
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Nay, if in your soul, your Majesty
Know me not innocent, I scorn to urge
Useless asseveration—
Queen.
You do well!—
Monarchs should put no confidence in friendship!
I'll to my chamber!
Philippa.
Short-lived in thy friendship,
As those poor lilies that but bloom a day,
Not, like the hyacinth, friend in wintery need!
Queen.
(emphatically).
Too early widowed! Countess, there are sorrows
That slowly undermine, as well as those
That overwhelm o' the sudden. Fate on me
Her quiver empties. Balzo! is there more?
Balzo.
Nothing, but that your Majesty retire,
Leaving the prisoners in my custody.
Queen.
Let it be so! Attend me—all!
[Exeunt Queen, Duchess, Giulio, and Attendants.
Philippa.
A moment,
Good Chancellor! with my father—and alone!
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'Tis granted.
[Exeunt Balzo and omnes, except Philippa and Salvator.
Salvator.
Countess! verily, a Countess!
O, bitterness of sorrow! Come—now, laugh!
Nothing but Countess! Countess of Montoni!
I give you joy! joy! joy! You are a Countess!
Philippa.
Scorn me not!
Salvator.
Ha! ha! ha! A countess scorned
By a fisherman! Ne'er mind, my child! thou art
The daughter of an honest man! thou art!
Ay, and his honest daughter!
Philippa.
Think you so?
Salvator.
I do—most veritably! What are titles,
Power, or riches, which can thus leave bare
Their duped possessors! To the true good soul
That, when divested even of the body,
Still holds entire its god-like attributes,
What are they, daughter?
Philippa.
I've solemnly thought of it!
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Then go in peace! I yet may find out means
To save you—or, if not—
Philippa.
I am immortal!
[Exit.
Salvator.
Where is the menial took my cloak from me?
Enter Bruno on one side, and Roberto and Geronimo on the other.
Ye are come—And thou, too? It is time I left
The palace?
Bruno.
So I am bid to say.
Salvator.
Anon!
[Exit Bruno.
Roberto.
Salvator! we are charged—
Salvator.
With many a trouble,
Which, were ye what ye seem, would ne'er have pained you—
Roberto.
By Hugh del Balzo, Chancellor of Naples—
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A blind but honest man, whom ye have cheated
To think his darkness, light—
Roberto.
To warn you—
Salvator.
Me?—
Roberto.
'Twere prudent you should quit
Naples without delay—
Salvator.
Without reward?
Which, were it offered, I should spurn—mark that!
But have deserved. I need not bid you mark it,
'Tis in your fellow's Table-book! Is't not?
Roberto.
We have no business with you, but the duty
We're charged withal.
Salvator.
Poor wit, that must so often
Say the same thing!
Roberto.
And that imports your absence,
Which, if not willingly accorded, will be
Enforced—
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By whom?
Roberto.
The Chancellor. Your wisdom,
For which you have acquired repute, will teach you,
The popular mind at such a juncture may be
Made dangerous by your presence.
Salvator.
Um!
Roberto.
And therefore—
Salvator.
So ho! so ho! I'm grown into importance!
A politician, without knowing it!
A principle—a power—i'th' State; perhaps, i'th' Church—
Most certainly i'th' Church, whereof the Poor
Have been the pillars ever!
Roberto.
Do you scorn us?
Salvator.
Most heartily! But not your message, though;
And much respect the sender. Tell him that—
Geronimo.
No more?
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Whate'er you please, besides—except
The truth.
Geronimo.
Fear not.
Salvator.
Not I! Ye cannot speak it.
Re-enter Bruno (with cloak).
What, if ye could?—Good friend! you've brought my cloak—
Thank you! A little while!
[Exit Bruno.
Why go ye not?
Geronimo.
We've order to attend you out of Naples.
Salvator.
Have ye? Am I suspected, then? and ye,
My gaolers? Faugh! Am I your prisoner?
Roberto.
Not so, Salvator! 'Tis but friendly caution.
Salvator.
See you this cloak?
Roberto.
We do!
Salvator.
Wo't put it on?
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Why so?
Salvator.
Having been worn on honest shoulders,
Being recognised, the one of you that wears it,
May be mistaken for an honest man!
Roberto.
Nay, leave these fancies! Come along with us!
Salvator.
Never! lest men should judge of me by you;
Born and baptisëd liars! hypocrites
By nature and by grace! Ye wear a cloak,
Holy as this is honest; wrap in it
A mortifying carcase, crumbling piecemeal,
And feign 'tis quick within with wholesome life,
Albeit corruption's stench is rank upon it,
And not a lazar's body but, compared,
Is clean to it! Go ye your own ways—I'll
Not walk with lepers, lest I too grow scaly!
Enter Giulio.
Young man! you're welcome!
Giulio.
To despair?
Salvator.
Why so?
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Balzo will put her soft limbs to the question,
To force confession—
Salvator.
Ha! The rack!
Giulio.
He will!
Salvator.
The Queen! I'd see the Queen! Canst get me audience?
Giulio.
I will endeavour—
Salvator.
Instant, boy!
[Exit Giulio.
Alone!
I will be left alone!
[Exeunt Roberto and Geronimo.
Now, to my mind,
Those twain so wicked show, that Heaven will fail
To vindicate itself, if they not perish
By some strange, sudden doom! The question! ah!
My heart is on the rack! The Queen is young
And merciful; I'll show her such respect
As shall, like worship, plead with her for pity!
How speeds young Giulio? I must follow him!
[Exit.
| Salvator, the Poor Man of Naples | |