University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

AND LAST.—A ROOM IN DURAZZO'S HOUSE, COMMUNICATING WITH A SMALL CHAPEL, THE DOORS OF WHICH ARE OPEN.
Enter Angiolina, then the Duke, and Hippolito, masked, and Azzo Durazzo habited as a Priest.
DURAZZO.
My daughter, sign the contract. Here!

ANGIOLINA.
Aye, Father!
But pause a moment yet—my sight is dim—
My heart aches heavily! Thou, holy man,
Know I stand here afflicted with a loss—
No less a loss than a most tender parent;
One that at this grave hour should be beside me,
To aid, sustain, encourage, soothe, and bless me;
The Funeral calls me and I seek the Espousals!
I am an orphan!—Priest, forgive my sorrow!

AZZO.
Forgive it!—nay, I honour that and thee;
It is a seemly sorrow, and most blessed,
(One of the masks shews signs of impatience.)
But, daughter, be consoled—thy lover waits,
And pants to prove thy best protector now!
Quick! sign thy name, and at the holy altar
Receive his vows of tenderness and truth.

(She takes the pen.)
ANGIOLINA.
My soul swerves from me—knock my knees together—
Mine every nerve's unstrung—mine every pore
Turns to a chill of iciness!—I shiver
As might a dying wretch beneath a blow,—
Another wound unto his death-wounds added!—
And now I feel in statue-stillness bound.
I am a frost!—no! no! there comes a thaw;
Sweet tears! ye melt me to myself again!—
Give me the pen once more, O Father!

(She takes the pen, and signs.)
DUKE
(exclaims aloud suddenly).
Done!
'Tis done!—

ANGIOLINA.
My love! spok'st thou? No! 'twas not thou!—
Hippolito! art there? That voice, I knew it—
It scared my senses from me with its sound—
It struck me down as with a stabbing stroke!
Hippolito!—all silent?—nay! one word!—
Is't life or death?—a silence of the grave!—
Speak to me—some one speak—in mercy speak!
Speak to me—speak to me!—the silence answers!
Oh, ruin—ruin! Hope is dead—alas!—
New horrors open to devour me now,—
Yawn—to devour their living, life-cursed prey—
(Goes to the priest with her hands joined.)
Oh! holy Father, hear a wretched orphan!
My plighted, promised husband is not here!
Some treacherous art hath kept him from my side,
Black as the arts of those that tempt our souls:
To thee then, Father, I must trembling turn!—
Deserted by all earth—betray'd—destroy'd—
Now must I turn to thee—and Heaven!—Oh, hear me!
For That will hear me!—be not deaf. Hear! Father!—
Protect me from these dark—these dangerous men!
Oh! by the altar, at whose sacred foot
I was about to kneel (the thought is madness!)—
By Death, and Resurrection, and the Judgment,
I pray thee, grant me now some safe asylum—
Some solemn sanctuary—or I must turn
From thee still—still to Heaven—and to the tomb!

AZZO.
Peace! daughter! nay, thou'rt dreaming—'tis thy husband!
Already, by that contract signed, ye are wedded!

ANGIOLINA.
'Tis false!—I am not wedded!—will not wed!
I dream! I do believe I dream! but 'tis
A dream of terrible and ghastly horrors—
A dream of maddening mysteries—hideous things!
(Looks earnestly at the Priest.)
Art thou, indeed, the priest?—I doubt—I doubt!—
(Shrieks.)
Oh! powers eternal! know I not that face?—
A face I feel that I have shrunk from—swoon'd from—
With deadly sickening of profound aversion!
Azzo Durazzo!—Now I know thee, wretch!
Fate—phrenzy—torture—whither shall I turn?
No more escape—no help at hand—no mercy!—
A world of wickedness—and form'd to whelm me.
Caught, snared, betray'd, and fallen and lost for ever!
Ye have kill'd Hippolito!—ye have waylaid him!
Pierced—Heaven knows how—into our inmost counsels,
By some black artifice! Sweet Virgin! save me—
Save my beloved Hippolito and me!
Speak! have ye slain him?—Speak! that word may kill me!
Oh! speak then, quickly!—be that sound a sword
Plunged in my heart in one deep, desperate minute,
To spare me ages of all agonies!
Have ye—oh! have ye slain him?

DUKE.
No!—he lives!

ANGIOLINA.
Then he will save me! Tremble—tremble, traitors!

DUKE.
He will not save thee!—and thou'rt mine—mine own!
Thou'st sign'd the contract, and thou'rt made my bride!

ANGIOLINA.
Thy bride!—the grave's bride sooner! Ye have slain him!

DUKE.
He lives! I tell thee!

ANGIOLINA
(mournfully).
No! it cannot be!
Or he would surely be beside me here!
(Energetically.)
Here—to defend me!—Here!—to tear me from thee—
Here, 'gainst the united universe to stand—
If, that the united universe abused me!

DUKE.
Listen! He doth resign thee, and to me!

ANGIOLINA.
Stand from my sight, thou groundling groveller!—Off!
Avoid thee!—back—give back!—Hence!—stay me not!
Out of my path, thou reptile! and obey me!—
Out of my path, I say! Ho! let me pass!

DUKE.
A thousand phrenzies fire thee!—nay, remain!
Lady! thou stirr'st not from this spot!

ANGIOLINA.
Give back—
Give back, thou dastard tyrant of a woman—
Oppressor of the fallen and fatherless!
Fallen!—nay, not so!—I am above thy soul!
Where bides Hippolito—my lord—my husband?
Say! if he lives—where—where remains he now?

DUKE.
Would'st know, indeed?—I tell thee he resigns thee!

ANGIOLINA.
And I tell thee I scorn thy savage words—
Still marvelling that great Heaven should strike thee not—
Aye! with the lie upon thy false lips—dead!

DUKE.
The lie! Wilt thou believe, thou raging woman?—
Wilt thou believe himself, if he shall tell thee
That he resigns thee?

ANGIOLINA.
Aye! 'twill be in death!
Yet he shall not resign me! No!—Oh, no!
Not thus, even thus shall he resign me—never!
For I will creep into his frozen bosom—
And be the bride of his sepulchral chamber!
Where art thou?—where—my heart's Colonna?

(Duke and Hippolito unmask.)
HIPPOLITO.
Here!

(Angiolina darts forward to him and falls at his feet.)
ANGIOLINA.
Oh! pardon me!—Oh! joy—a dream!—Colonna!
A dream of miserable, strange dismay!
Thou thought'st to play with my too dubious heart!—
What means it all?—'tis mystery!—Answer—answer—
Thou husband of my heart,—what means it?

(Hippolito takes her hand, and attempts to give it to the Duke.)
HIPPOLITO.
This!

ANGIOLINA.
Is't life?—is't death?—I perish—now I perish!
There was a world—there is a chaos now!
My soul is dead—before me!—it is gone!
And I am vacancy—my soul hath perish'd!—
I am annihilation! Nothing is—
Time, earth, all perishes—all Nature dies!
The worlds are wither'd, and the space is sunless.
Speak! dreadful shadow of my virtuous lord—
Speak! horrid thing, resembling his dear mould—
My heart aches deathfully! Yet—answer!—say,
What arts infernal—

HIPPOLITO.
Angiolina, hear!
I have resign'd my claim unto thy hand;
I yield thee to the Duke, our Liege and Sov'reign!—
Do thou obey me—yield thyself to him.
Deny me not!

ANGIOLINA.
Deny thyself, and die!
Pass from me darkly—hence! Be air—be nothing!
Deny thyself, and shew thou'rt but a shadow.
Hence, monster'd mockery of a human shape—
Creation of the fear-distemper'd fancy!—

HIPPOLITO.
It boots not thus to look with the eye of phrenzy—

ANGIOLINA.
How dar'st thou meet my looks, and die not, villain!
If—if, indeed, the Horror hath a life!
Thy monstrous, nameless, strange, impossible falsehood—
Makes night a blazing sun beside its blackness!
But what seems horrible beyond all else—
What strikes me to the dust with shame and misery!—
So that I pass by Thee to greet new Evil,
So that I leave the worst to find a worse—
Is, that my soul is blacken'd with thy soul;
My heart hath answer'd to thine impious heart!
I am contaminated!—I am corruption!
My thoughts have been infected with thy thoughts—
My feelings fester'd with thy feelings' contact!—
Oh! must my spirit go with thy lost spirit?
No! thou unutterable traitor!—no!
That soul shall speed from earth and thee at once—
For all earth now seems infamy and thee!

[Draws a dagger from her vest, and is about to stab herself. Hippolito snatches it from her, and flings it out of the window. She flies to the opened window, and screams.]
ANGIOLINA.
Help!—mercy! help!—Help! murder!

DUKE.
Gag her straight!
Heavens! we shall have all Mantua at the doors.
Drag her away!—Conceal her!—Quick!—Steps—steps!
Make fast the doors!

ANGIOLINA.
Help!—mercy!—Help!—oh!—help!

(A loud knocking is heard.)
DUKE.
Who knocks?—Who comes at this unseemly hour?

Voices
outside.
Unbar the door, or we will force our way!

ANGIOLINA
(struggling).
Haste!—haste!—Oh!—help!—Oh!—succour me!—Oh save me!—

(The door is burst open, enter Giulio, Emmanuel, and Pietro.)
GIULIO.
Ah! thou here, Duke? Well, well, may'st thou cower back!
Doth conscience wake then at the approach of vengeance?
Amazement on amazement! Thou, Colonna!—
Thou, here!—and yet this wrong'd, afflicted maid,
All agonising with affright's worst panic,
Even to the fever'd flush of phrenzy's height!—
Thou here, her sworn protector!—and thy bride—
Thine own affianced one—not safe and shelter'd,
As underneath the mother bird's own wing?—
Or thou gash'd grimly with a world of wounds—
Each wide enough to let out fifty lives!—
Thy limbs hack'd into million quivering pieces!—
What means this uttermost of mystery? Speak!—
Could thy right arm not shield her—save—preserve her?
Speak!—speak! was Strength not strengthen'd in such cause?

ANGIOLINA.
My tongue shall tell, if I live through the telling,
Though ev'ry word its separate wound must give—
Down with thy high soul to the dust—the dust!—
Thou, noble Giulio!—would'st thou understand
What I have utter'd, and have yet to utter?
Oh! Christ!—the ruin of my peace were nought—
A slight offence—that should be pardon'd quickly,
Forgiven, and yet forgiven o'er—o'er again,
But thus conspiring for my fair fame's ruin—
Thus entering in the abhorr'd league 'gainst mine honour!—
Oh! when I think of this supreme of treachery!—
That foul, false priest—that violated altar!—
Save!—Giulio, save me from myself and madness!

GIULIO.
Thou'rt safe! Oh! be not thus disturb'd—distress'd!
Panting and flutter'd like the frighten'd dove!
Nay, peace!—thou art safe! recall thine own sweet spirit!
For thou seem'st hovering o'er creation's confines,
Suspended in some Life-and-Death-like trance.

ANGIOLINA.
Giulio! behold that foulest of earth's traitors!
Behold! I say, and blush that thou art human!
Behold! and be ashamed that thou art a man!
Behold that miracle of desperate falsehood—
One who would sell the soul that worshipp'd him
To everlasting ruin and despair!

GIULIO.
Perdition! but thou art fallen beneath my sword!
Thy blood should make it a dishonour'd weapon!
Stand forth, false Duke! I challenge thee to combat!
Stand forth, thou liar! traitor! slave! Have at thee!

DUKE.
Rebel and caitiff! dar'st thou challenge me?
Be proud that thus I deign to measure swords
With such an earthworm as thyself!

(They fight, Giulio disarms the Duke.)
GIULIO.
Yield! yield!
Submit thyself, false Duke! and wholly yield
All title to this hapless, injured lady!

DUKE.
I yield, Count Giulio! I resign the maiden:
Suffer me seek my palace unexposed.

GIULIO.
Begone! deliver us from such a presence!—
[Exit Duke.
Durazzo garb'd in garments of the Church!
Thou foul, irreverend infamy! Get thee hence!
Follow the master-fiend! Avaunt—avaunt!

DURAZZO.
Think'st thou that Power shall punish not for this?
Look to thyself!—proud rebel 'gainst thy Prince!

[Exit Durazzo.
IMELDA
(rushes in).
Safe—safe! My friend—my Angiolina safe!
Hippolito! thou here? What means this?—speak!
Methought I heard there was deception, treachery—
Methought thy cries had call'd deliverers round thee!
My gentle Friend!—methought thou wert in danger!

ANGIOLINA.
Oh! ask it not—it is the deadliest horror!

IMELDA.
I guess it—yes! methinks I read his soul—
'Tis stamp'd upon his low'ring guilty brow.

HIPPOLITO.
Nay, haughty lady! who made thee my judge?

IMELDA.
Thou hast yet a severer one within—
Thy loudly-crying conscience!—Angiolina,
Stand not thus statue-like in trance of thought!
Thank thy preservers—Giulio and Emmanuel!

ANGIOLINA.
Signor Emmanuel! here receive my thanks,
The warmest, deepest thanks that ere were given!
With mingling sobs, sighs, tears, and words, and tremours!
Thou hast deliver'd me from deadlier dangers
Than those the storm-worn mariner must dread
When strikes his ruin'd vessel on the rock:
Accept my thanks, prayers, blessings,—heart-poured wishes
For thy true happiness—Here and Hereafter!—

EMMANUEL.
Sweet lady! 'tis a blessing to have served thee!

GIULIO
(aside).
And not one word for me! Ah, cruel—cruel!
But I will hence, and rid thee of my sight!

ANGIOLINA.
Giulio! art going? yet awhile delay,
Giulio di Castagnola! I do owe thee
Far more than I can pay: yet, if indeed
Thou still remainest in the unmoved self-same mind,
Thou own'dst when last we held discourse together,
And this poor hand be precious fee for thee,—
I may give largesse for thy Life-dear service—
'Tis thine! wilt take it?

GIULIO
(taking her hand and falling on his knees before her).
I am lost in joy!
Will I? my Soul receives the infinite treasure,
And kneels to thee as I am kneeling now,
And blesses thee as fain my tongue would bless thee,
But seem my lips forgetting speech!—they murmur
Too faintly what my heart would cry aloud!—
Oh, Angiolina, I am lost in love!

ANGIOLINA.
My heart is labouring with a sorrow, Giulio!—
That thou wilt suffer it to cherish yet,
Wilt thou not let me mourn a little while?
My father, Giulio! (she weeps)
My dear father, Giulio!
Thou know'st I have one but in Heaven. I pray
Grant me a little while to weep!

GIULIO.
My heart
Weeps blood to mingle with thy tears' deep treasure!

IMELDA.
Emmanuel, I will make this sweet example
Of my heart's sister—gentlest Angiolina—
If so thou will'st it, pattern for myself,
And give thee for thine own this hand of mine,
Repudiating with scorn and utter loathing
The memory of my weak and ill-placed love!
Wilt thou receive this grateful, soften'd heart—
The heart that once could beat for Mantua's tyrant?

EMMANUEL.
Rapture! methinks I am caught above the clouds!
Eternal light seems breaking on my sense!
Is't the same earth an hour ago I trod?
My life is blessedness!—my soul is thee!

IMELDA
(to Hippolito).
Trebly lost villain! didst thou—couldst thou, then,
Beneath thy roof and at the altar's foot,
Plot 'gainst the hapless victim who adored thee?

HIPPOLITO.
Aye! I was tempted past my powers to bear;
And (while a willing prisoner in my house,
Through arts accurs'd assisting this foul scheme,)
Ev'n in the Sacredness of Solitude,
Dared sell my soul piecemeal!—from Guilt to Guilt
Press'd on, as now from Anguish driv'n to Anguish!

[He rushes out.
GIULIO.
'Tis well he is gone! his presence was a pain!
The Wretch groaned death-struck on his bosom'd rack!—
The Wicked ev'n how oft do vindicate
The Eternal's ways and works to wond'ring man!