University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Albanio, sitting in a meditative posture. Part of his army lying asleep, in detached groupes, around him. He comes forward and sits upon a jutting crag.
Alb.
Music has lulled these iron hearts to rest!
But mine shall never more be soothed to sleep,
Till yon proud city smokes beneath its ruins.—
Again!—it pleases, though it soothes me not;—again!
[Music:—soon after interrupted by vivid flashes of lightning:—Music continues till the lightning is followed by a violent thunder storm.
The angry storm subsides at last!—
Full many a year, upon this rocky coast,
I've watched the warring elements; while these,
More happy far than me, lie lock'd in sleep;
But ne'er, till now, have I been greeted with
Such dismal wailings, as these rocks sublime,
This night have echo'd from their secret caves.
Oh! I could wish to see this piteous world
Crumble to atoms!—And the hideous noise
Of its crude elements would charm my ear,
Like softest music, which, I've oft times heard,
Lulls the sad soul of anguish to repose.—
[Music resumes.
In what deep silence wave yon clouds of jet.
Mark, how the moon-beams gild their shadowy skirts:
[The dark clouds glide gradually away; the moon shines brilliantly; and the whole of Mount Vesuvius is seen towering in the perspective.
How glorious!—Lo!—Vesuvius appears!—
Itself a planet.—Towering o'er the vale,
It gives new grandeur to sublimity.—
Magnificent!—Oh Nature!—How thy works
Dissolve my soul in holiest admiration!—
[Loud peals of thunder.
Roll on, ye heralds of omnipotence;—
Roll to the utmost limit of the spheres.
And you, ye lightnings, guide me on my way
To yon proud towers.—But spare the time-worn walls:
Rob not my soul of vengeance:—'tis mine own.
Ah! Can ye sleep my comrades?—Well; sleep on.
Would I could sleep as well!—The thunder roars
Harsh music to harsh bosoms; but to me—
It breathes soft, melancholy, music.—Oh!—
There was a time—How wild the volumes roll!
Echoing from one deep valley to another:—
Now dying in faint murmurs.—Hush'd the scene!
So dies each tumult of an injured spirit;
When hope has charm'd each passion into peace.
—Mine ne'er will rest, till death has closed the scene!

[Relapses into melancholy.
Angelo, supporting Angelina, appears on one of the cliffs above.
Alb.
What's this I see, on yonder cliff?—a youth!
Bearing a fainting woman in his arms.
Carlo!—Spalatro!—Polydore!—awake!—
How can ye sleep amid this warring uproar?

[The troops start up, and fly to their arms.
Spal.
Who's there?—what danger?—

Car.
Signor—didst thou call?—

Alb.
See ye not yonder fine-form'd maid, that leans,
Weak and exhausted, on her lover's breast?—

Car.
Good heaven!—why run we not to succour them?—

[Carlo, and several of the troop, climb to the spot; and, after some difficulty, succeed in leading Angelo and Angelina down the precipice. —Angelo comes forward, Angelina clinging to his robe.
Ang.
Fortune has cast me in so many dangers,
Most noble chief, that I would well consent,
No more to buffet her tumultuous stream;
Did I not feel, for this affrighted maid,
More pangs, than death has power to bestow.

Alb.
(Aside)
—A noble pair!—and worthy of each other.

Ang.
If thou hast ever felt the bitter pang
Of ill requited service;—ever seen
A faithful friend, that every secret knew,
Which prisoned in thine heart, accused, disgraced,
Cast in a dungeon;—from that dungeon freed,
Only to wander into banishment,
An unknown outcast—

Alb.
(Aside with great emotion.)
Thou hast touched the chord!—
And yet I fear, that he was born in Naples!

Ang.
—But ah!—
If love hath ever fired thy manly breast,
And innocence has answered thine entreaty,
With the soft rapture of requiting love;
With heart,—all beating,—thy benignant hand
Will stretch, with pleasure, to assist this Angel.

Alb.
Guard them, ye Powers!—My conscience sinks within me.—

Ang.
O'erwhelm'd by fortune,—trembling under pangs
Of home remembered, friends, and parents too;
Fainting with hunger; sinking with fatigue;
We ask thee nothing, but a little food,
To quell our hunger; and the meanest bed
To rest our weary frames.—Oh!—do not tremble!
Lean on this arm, my Angelina.—Signor!
This maid is fainting with fatigue:—I charge thee,
Shew her thy pity.—

Alb.
(To Angelina.)
—Fairest maid, this youth
Speaks to the heart.—But I forget my oath! (To Angelo.)

—As thou dost value life, and what is more,
This maid's possession,—answer me with truth.
—Art thou from Naples?— (A pause.)
(Aside.)

I do entreat, that he may answer “No.”
Stay—I'll not ask him:—No!—I will not ask him!
—Thou'rt born in Florence—yes—I know thou wert!—
I saw thee there some eighteen months ago—

Ang.
In Florence?—No!—In Naples I was born.

Alb.
Ye powers!—I fear'd as much!—Now for my oath!
I wish I had not sworn!
—I wish I had not sworn!— (After a pause.)

—Dost know Albanio?

Ang.
He, who on the night
Of sacred marriage, massacred his wife?
Who fled?—who wars upon his native city?
I know his name too well!—

Alb.
Ye sons of darkness!—
Heard ye not that?—He strikes the chord of madness.
No pity now shall lull me into mercy.—
Carlo!—Spalatro!—Bind this youth of Naples;
Bind him with bonds, and seer his flowing locks—

Angeli.
Oh chief! I do entreat thee to forbear.
What has he done?—What uttered to offend?
What he has said, I pledge a virgin's word,
Is sacred truth.—Outcasts, indeed, we are:
Fall'n from as high estate, as fortune grants
To any lord in Naples.—Tell me, then,
What he has done, that draws this sudden flash
Of wildest anger, from thy threatening eye?

Alb.
Did he not say, that he was born in Naples?
A state, that I've resolved, on oath, to ruin;
And every son, that comes within my power!

Ang.
Unnatural fiend!—Oh, worse than leopard born!

Alb.
(to Angelina.)
Did he not say, Albanio fled his country?
Murdered his wife?—He said it—yes, he said it!—
Deny ye that?—Said he not that?—

Ang.
Albanio?

Alb.
Yes!—Albanio—FUGITIVE and MURDERER!
I am Albanio; and I love the name;
Though I abhor the practice of your charge.
Bear, bear him hence, ye pausing idle crew:
Take him and hurl him from yon pointed brow,
That peaked summit, called “Albanio's Rock!”
Hurl him to the dolphins—hurl him—hurl him down

Angeli.
Oh, on my bended knees—

Alb.
Avaunt—avaunt!
No, no!—they neither heard, nor pitied, me!
None, born in Naples, therefore, shall receive
One ray of hope from me.

Ang.
I've heard of tigers,
Lions, and panthers—but I never yet
Read of a monster, who did hate the land,
Which gave him birth, with such a hate as thine!—

Alb.
I care not what thou'st read.—Albanio is
Albanio's self:—let that suffice for Naples!
Damn'd and insidious race,—how I abhor ye!
Holding me guilty of a crime, so foul,
As wed a wife, and stab her to the heart,
Deserves that famine, pestilence, and war
Should visit ye for ages.

Ang.
(to Angelina, pointing to heaven.)
—Look, upward, angel!
Mid yon bright globes our consolation rests!

Angeli.
They shall not part us!—We will die together.

Alb.
(impatiently.)
Take—take him hence, and hurl him on the strand;
While hated Naples bleeds at every pore

Angeli.
Oh, do not tear him from these eyes away!
I ne'er can bear so sad a separation.
Take me—take me—but let that youth still live:
I'd bear ten thousand tortures for his sake.

[As they prepare to lead Angelo off the stage, Angelina endeavours to follow, but is prevented.
Ang.
(to troop.)
Away—away!—One last embrace, my love!—

Alb.
Begone!— (aside.)
Or this rough bosom may relent.

Angeli.
Oh, let me follow.—Monsters, let me go!—
Look at him—see—ah, how can ye refuse
The grand expression of those speaking eyes?
Oh, good Albanio—I intreat thy mercy;—
Let me but follow, and I'll bless thy name,
E'en in the hour of death!—

[He turns from her with an air of softened dignity.
Ang.
Farewell—farewell—

[They tear him away.
Angeli.
Off, off, ye miscreants:—do not hold me thus!
Angelo—Angelo!—my dearest Angelo!—

[Faints.
Alb.
(to troop.)
Leave me, oh leave me.—Send Marcella hither.

[Troops exeunt.
[Albanio brings Angelina to the front of the stage, and holds her upon his knee. He bends over her, and becomes softened by her beauty.
Alb.
How fair, how lovely!—In all nature's works,
A form, more lovely, never met my sight.
She almost tempts me to forego my hate;
But I have sworn, and will not be subdued.—
[Pauses, and looks at her with emotion,
Has beauty, then, the power to charm me still?
Fortune!—Thou hast, for many a weary year,
Singled me out to be thine instrument;
On which to play thy melancholy airs;
And used me, as a discord, to complete
The cruel concord of thy varying notes.
Tell me, then, jilt, is this sweet, blooming, creature,
Cast in my way to smooth these rugged brows,
So wrinkled by my sorrows; and to soothe
The harsher features of my gloomy soul?
No—I disdain thy boon!—Francisca lives!—
Lives in my heart!—her sainted spirit lives
In regions pure. Who sent her there?—'Twas I!—
Yes—Naples swears it was Albanio sent her;—
Stabb'd with a poignard!—Oh, revenge, revenge!
The time is coming;—nay, the time is come.
Enter Marcella and Carlo.
Take this fair maid;—and use thy best design,
To calm the anguish of her wounded breast.—
Soothe her torn heart—I war not with a woman.

Mar.
Come, my sweet innocent, I will not harm thee!

Car.
(in an under tone.)
Poor lady!—E'en this savage bosom feels
To witness thy distress.

[Exeunt, bearing Angelina.
Alb.
Away—away:
Say, Naples, how my vengeance can display
Proofs of envenomed hate, more full than this?
The youth is noble, and the maid is lovely;
Both form'd in Nature's most exalted mood.
The nobler, and more lovely, be the victims;
The better, firmer, ranker, my revenge.
“Revenge is virtue!”—Is it?—No, ye're false,
Who cry, “Revenge is virtue!”—But my oath—
My oath doth make me war against my reason.
And yet— (in a sudden paroxysm.)
Oh, the vile race of miscreants!—Yes—
Have they not warr'd?—They've warr'd on me for years.
He says, I've sent my innocent wife to heaven!—
Oh! that the father of yon boundless deep
Would change his figure to a towering cliff,
Round which the waves and winds might tyrannize for ages.

[Exit.