University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

—The Ball-Room, with various groups of Masks. —In front Ugo and Rosalba as bridegroom and bride, with Ubaldo and Fiordeliza. After a while Gerbetto joins them, with Ruggiero, who remains a little apart. Tribolo the King's Fool appears in his usual habit.
Ubaldo.

More lights, I tell you! If a canary bird were
here she would hardly sing. Strike up, musicians! We
suffer more in the tuning of your fiddles than the music's
worth. If the King be taken up into heaven, 'tis well;
but as we see him neither here nor there, 'tis no wonder
if our guests shall not disport themselves as merrily as
they are wont.

Ugo.

If an old man can do aught to make them merry,
I would fain be assisting.

Ubaldo.

Old! why the day makes us all young.

Fiordeliza.

If your good Lordship would assist me, I
pray you to find me a discreet and nimble gentleman to
dance with.

Ugo.

I will, sweet Lady.

Rosalba.

My friend, my Fiordeliza, leave me not.

Fiordeliza.

Come hither, Fool. How is it that thou
comest to the King's masked ball without a mask?

Tribolo.

Please your sweet Ladyship, my sister told

me the solemnity was of that nature that I should show it
my countenance and not my mask.

Fiordeliza.

Thy sister? I knew not thou hadst a
sister. Who is she?

Tribolo.

The world calls her Wisdom. The wisdom
of the world, my Lady, was ever born-sister to a fool.

Fiordeliza.

The fool were no fool that should hold that
faith.

Tribolo.

Then there is my mask and the fool is no fool
for the occasion.

Gerbetto.
(to Ruggiero in the side scene).

She says she
must know who you are before she shall speak with you
apart.

Ruggiero.

Then be it openly and not apart.

Fiordeliza.

Fool, thou art melancholy.

Tribolo.

No wonder, Lady, if you consider my dreams
last night.

Fiordeliza.

What didst thou dream?

Tribolo.

I dreamt I was a tailor going to be married,
and that I went to church sitting cross-legged a-top of
a hearse and stitching at my shroud.

Fiordeliza.

Was that all?

Tribolo.

No, I dreamt that I was a thousand miles out
at sea, sitting astride of an empty cask, and a beauteous
sea-nymph bobbing before me; but I could not come
at her.

Ubaldo.

The King, doubtless, hath his own
amusements and we will wait no longer. Ho! gallants,

gallants, match ye for the dance! strike up, musicians!
Serve a bumper round. Ho! gallants, follow me; this
way, this way.

Ruggiero.
(advancing)

Pass ye no further till my voice
be heard.

Ubaldo.
What voice is that? a merry mask I trow;
Well, speak; I like the humour of thy mask,
Though it be dismal; whom dost thou present?

Ruggiero.
Sirs, I am Conscience; with this lamp I search
The hearts of sinners, with this scourge chastise;
Men feast, men dance, men revel,—but I come;
The shouts of jollity and riot rise,
But what though jollity and riot shout,
My knock is heard and let me in they must;
For wheresoever Evil enters, there
I follow with my lamp, and Evil thus
Is palpable, or by his substance seen
Or by his shadow; then my lamp I lift
As now I lift it—yea, I lift my lamp
And lift my scourge—for therefore am I here:
Musicians, cease; ye dancers, cease to dance,
Trampling ye know not what beneath your feet;
What ye with noise and dancing celebrate
Are vows by prior vows made perfidy—
A heartless, faithless show of plighted faith.

Ubaldo.
What masking call ye this? A mask indeed
That masks a railer and a villain. Ho!
Tear off this caitiff's mask—tear off his mask.

Gerbetto.
(supporting Rosalba)
Sirs, she wants air—I pray you stand aside.

Fiordeliza.
Cheerly, my sweet Rosalba! Villain!

Ugo.
Run,
Fetch that elixir ....

Ubaldo.
Tear me off his mask,
Tear off the villain's mask.

Ruggiero.
Ye shall not need.

[Unmasking.
Fiordeliza.
Ruggiero!

1st Mask.
What! the Count?

2nd Mask.
'Tis he indeed!

3rd Mask.
As strangely found as lost!

4th Mask.
Most wonderful!

Ugo.
Who is it, Sirs? who is it? for mine eyes ....

Ubaldo.
I would that mine were dimmer than they are.
My Lord, or e'er you ask me to unsay
The name I gave you in your mask, say you
Wherefore you trouble thus our marriage feast.

Ruggiero.
Say what you please and unsay what you will.
Silisco loved your daughter; she loved him
And pledged her faith that this side All-Saints' Eve
She would not wed another. I demand
Why walks she here a bride?

Ubaldo.
This outrage grows!
Who says she loved?

Rosalba.
Father, I did, I did.

Ubaldo.
Or pledged her faith?

Rosalba.
I did, but he was false.

Fiordeliza.
Gerbetto knows it—and he slew the espoused
Of her with whom he traffick'd.

Gerbetto.
Sir, 'tis true;
He slew him in the caverns.

Ruggiero.
Oh, sad chance!
Disastrous error! Was it this betray'd
The maiden's faith! Why then shall pity plead
Against all anger. Whom he slew I know,—
A wretch who, for the plunder of his ship,
Sent to the bottom her and all her crew,
By name Spadone; in the Catacombs,
Silisco, hiding from his creditors,
Met—innocently met, by accident—
Spadone's paramour; by him assail'd,
He, certes, slew him.

Ubaldo.
At the point of death
Spadone said ....

Ruggiero.
What like enough he thought;
For with a hundred murders did he reek
And foulest thoughts were uppermost. But lo!
If any here shall say Silisco's soul
Was not as pure as infant's at the breast,
True as confessing Saint's, there is my glove—
I'll prove upon his body that he lies.

Three Knights come forward.
1st Knight.
There be three here will take this quarrel up
Upon the bride's behalf.

Rosalba.
Oh, not on mine!
My cause is bad—I brake my promise—oh!
Silisco, ever, evermore beloved!
Forgive me! oh forgive me! I was false,
And thou wert faithfuller than the constant fire
That burns the centre!

Ubaldo.
Daughter! art thou mad?

Fiordeliza.
She faints, she falls.

Gerbetto.
Make room—to the air—to the air!

[Rosalba is taken out by Gerbetto and Fiordeliza.
Ubaldo.
See, Sir, your mischief prospers. But the King
Shall know of this, and instantly. My friends,
Ye see how this, which should have been a feast,
By this man's meddling insolence is marr'd.
This shall the King redress; and some time hence
We'll have our pastime; for this present, Sirs,
Your further aid I ask not. Fare you well!

[Exit.
Ugo.
Before you go, Sirs, pray you hear me speak;
For I am sorely troubled, yea, my heart
Is full of grief: I knew not, Sirs, till now
Of this sweet lady's love, nor of her pledge
Given, as this Lord avouches, to his friend,
That worthy Knight, my Lord of Malespina:
Sirs, had I known it, not for worlds and worlds
Would I have done her that discourtesy
To force myself upon her to her wrong:
Sirs what I can I will for her relief;
I call you all to witness, I renounce
All rights from this day's injury derived;
I'll never more approach her.

Ruggiero.
Noble Sir,
Your pardon if I wrong'd you.

Ugo.
Nay, not so;
The sorrows of this day are born of sin;
A secret sin, whereof to cleanse my soul
I hasten now. I pray you help me hence.
Forth on a perilous pilgrimage I go,
Sorely to suffer for my sore offence.

Ruggiero.
Count, think not I accuse you ...

Ugo.
No, Sir, no;
My sin is other than against this maid,
Whom, verily, I married for her good,
Her sire protesting 'twas her will—no less
For her own good than that exceeding love
I bore her and shall ever bear—and now
There's nothing I can suffer that my soul
Shall not rejoice to suffer, even to death,
If haply so appeasing God, He shower
A blessing on that lady and her love.

[Exit, followed by all except Ruggiero.
Ruggiero.
A gallant and magnanimous old man!
Much injury have I done him, God forgive me!
In thinking slightly of his slender wit
By greatness of his heart so glorified.
Till now I knew not he had utterance;
But generous sorrows and high purposes
Make the dumb speak. Ye orators, note that,
That in the workshop of your head weave words.

Enter Gerbetto.
Gerbetto.
Strange day is this! My Lord, the aged Count
Prepares, in sackcloth clad, to issue forth
The city gates, afoot and unattended,
To seek the Holy Sepulchre. A vow
Made this day three years, when his former wife
Lay sick to death, did bind him, as he says,
Within three years in such wise to perform
This pilgrimage, the disregard whereof
He deems to be the cause of this day's griefs;
And therefore, ere the stroke of twelve foreclose
Upon his pledge, he needs will take his way
Alone, on foot, toward Jerusalem.

Ruggiero.
A brave resolve! but which to execute
His body is unequal. Ere he reach
A three days' journey, he shall fall by the way;
He must be follow'd though he know it not,
And tended at his need. Wilt thou do this?

Gerbetto.
I will, my Lord; nor shall it hold me long;
I know the nature of his maladies;
Scarce for one week can they sustain the toil
Of journeying afoot. But, good my Lord,
I pray you, whether it be days or months,
Be careful, in my absence, of my child;
Fulfil her father's duties and defeat
The King's designs if evil.

Ruggiero.
Ah, the King!
I know that dangerous softness of the King
And how it works in issue. Lovingly,
Like a tame tiger, that long licks the hand
Till he draw blood, then maddens, doth he now
Fondle Lisana. He shall not draw blood
Whilst blood of mine is living in my veins.