University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A Street in Florence.
Enter Luca Corsini and Domenico Bonsi (left), Guidantonio Vespucci (right).]
CORSINI.
Well met, Vespucci. Do you bring us news
Of the last sitting of the Signory?

VESPUCCI.
Yes; and news sensible. They place a gag
Upon the Friar. He is to preach no more.

BONSI.
He preached a sermon now to wake the dead
And vivify the stones. 'Twere time he ceased.
Helpful to chase the Medici, he blocks
The way to sober government, that is,
And ever was, the appanage of few.

VESPUCCI.
Was he heard plausibly?

CORSINI.
Two different streams
Contended for the current; but 'twas plain
The adverse had it.

BONSI.
That, undoubtedly.
But for Marcuccio Salviati's folk,
Who elbowed them aside, the crowd had plucked
His cassock somewhat rudely.

VESPUCCI.
Who can wonder?
For all his prophecies have come to nought.
Famine and pestilence are at their doors
Posted like sentinels, and challenge all,
Save death and hunger, that demand to pass.
This for their private woes. The public ills
Are not more few nor less accountable.
All round Volterra desolation spreads,
As an unhealthy fungus doth its spawn,
In ever-widening circles. Pescia grows
Its harvest for our foes; the Pisans scour,
Unhindered, the Maremma; and the ships
Of Venice still from Leghorn cut as off.

CORSINI.
Heard you a letter seriously shaped,
Despatched by Frà Girolamo to Charles,
Was by Il Moro seized upon the way?

BONSI.
They vouch me it contains a solemn prayer
The King a General Council would convene
To render the last conclave void and null,
Pluck the Tiara from the Borgia's head,
And give another Pope to Christendom.

VESPUCCI.
Aye, and that Ludovico hath consigned
The bold petition to the Pontiff's hands.

CORSINI.
An accident more likely to succeed,
Than many a deft design. Take this for sure:
When chance conspires against a man, his days
Of eminence are numbered. In this world,
That grows its crop of courtiers by the hour,
There never was so rank a sycophant
As this same Fortune.

VESPUCCI.
I was homeward bound
Unto the midday meal, a while delayed
By the irregular motion of these times.
I pray you share it with me.

BONSI.
Willingly,
Where we may then more leisurely discourse
Of the immediate symptoms of the State,
And what should be their medicine.

CORSINI.
After you.

[Exeunt (left). As they do so, enter Candida (right), and tries one of the doors.]