University of Virginia Library

SCENE VIII.

A Vineyard, at Sun-set.
Arezzi, Cimbelli, and Savelli.
AREZZI.
Art sure of that, Cimbelli?

CIMBELLI.
Yes, I am.

AREZZI.
Let us look warily before we go,
And keep the offering uncorrupt! our feet
Are on the temple steps—a single spot
Defiles the victim—we should search within
To see that nothing sensual, selfish, proud,
Mix with the sacrifice. We give our hearts
Untainted to this work?

CIMBELLI.
I do.

AREZZI.
Speak, father.

SAVELLI.
I answer to my conscience, son: my vows
Are made elsewhere.

AREZZI.
Speak out—we will know more.
Is it for Naples or ourselves? her tears
Must follow what we do, and he is damned
Past hope or mercy here—sevenfold hereafter—
Who thinks his idols holier than her peace,
Or lightly turns him to a work like this.

SAVELLI.
Well, let him be so then—ourselves will make
Her health the record of our thoughts; Arezzi,
To this one end I live.

AREZZI.
Then go—both go—
That double curse would meet me if I went!
When Naples suffered—what was that to me?
I never saw her blushes, till lost hopes,
Pride, discontent, a splenetic hate of wrong,
And love with jealousy disturbed the dreamer.

SAVELLI.
Thus slaves learn truth: who suffers not, may doubt
Lest bile have bred the ills his neighbour mourns.
You know from what you feel.

CIMBELLI.
Why, Count, this love
Hath drawn thy tun of wisdom fairly out,
Nor left its lees to smell at;—let us make haste
Where Justice sweats in fur, and shame the guardian.
Ask for thy father's lands, gold, servants, honors—
Tell who has turned the public gaze this way
And made distrust disgrace—whose breath it was
That scorched the spring-shoots of thy love, transferred
Thy mistress to his master—blew thee forth
A pennyless vagrant from their court, and swelled
Spain's windy parasites to mock and brave thee!

SAVELLI.
Thou shalt have right! the doors stand wide for judgment,
And all are welcome there.

CIMBELLI.
O! blind and feeble!
They will not leave thee such a dog as I
For guide or comforter. I must be gone—
First, whipt—then, hanged—next, burnt! a smoke-dried herring
Scorched black to cure the weevils!—they have found me
With moonlight hedge-hogs, leagued against the calves—
A Faun, a Puck, a Succubus, a Foliot,
The he-cat of some hag—a witch-hermaphrodite
With dugs to suckle fiends. Because I laugh,
Our holy mother shakes the rock she stands on—
My jests are heresies—so hence to Spain
Where fire must search and purge them.

AREZZI.
Fie! believe not!
Who told this tale, Cimbelli?

CIMBELLI.
One it was
That knew the truth—I cannot answer more—
Father, what sayest thou?

SAVELLI.
Only one could know it;
And he could not have told it.

CIMBELLI.
Why?

SAVELLI.
Look!—One
Whose habit answers mine, whose blood is nobler—
If any else, 'tis false.

CIMBELLI.
Thou dingy cherub!
I will believe thee still.

AREZZI.
I dread to think it.

SAVELLI.
Well, set this murderous treachery out of sight,
There may be cause enough for what we do.

AREZZI.
And still the thought is dreadful.

SAVELLI.
Be thyself:
We have a bond on Fortune.

AREZZI.
Most success
Breeds most remorse! These eyes must see their tears
Who loved me once.

CIMBELLI.
Wouldst keep them all thyself?
Hast thou not had thy share? they were content
To look on thine.

AREZZI.
But still they nursed and fed me:
I render scorpions for the bread they gave.

SAVELLI.
O! this might suit some virgin twelve years old—
Our enterprize needs men.

CIMBELLI.
The king and queen,
Who hold to-night a kind of wedding feast,
Would keep the Count a virgin all life through.

SAVELLI.
I must away—we trust you, Count, thus far:
The rest we will discharge ourselves. For those
So loved and mourned we must provide without you.
Who joins the risk shares power—if some shall suffer,
We cannot hear your prayers.

AREZZI.
Give me your promise—
Mine oaths shall be as strongly sworn as yours—
Promise to spare these four—the duke, the duchess,
Prince Andria, and Cicilia—swear to save them—
To guard their persons, honors, health, and peace—
Leave them untouched to me, and if I need it,
To help me for their safety.

SAVELLI.
Well, what follows?

AREZZI.
I will not pause, or swerve, or look behind;
But yield my heart and sword to you and Naples—
So may I live or perish!

SAVELLI.
I do, Arezzi.

AREZZI.
This promise is for you, and all who serve you?

SAVELLI.
Again I swear.

AREZZI.
Cimbelli, kneel with us.

CIMBELLI.
I cannot swear half this.

AREZZI.
Thou canst not swear it?
Then all are free again.

SAVELLI.
Be ruled, my son—
Dost hold thy wrath above the health of Naples?
Fie! fie!—kneel down.

CIMBELLI.
Thou hast redeemed a life.
My honour and my soul are bound together,
And both stand pledged to this.

SAVELLI.
It is enough.
The leaders wait, farewell!—To-morrow, Count,
I meet them face to face. Be strong, yet wary—
Look full of hope, and be so. Shew this seal;
They know it, and will obey it.

[Exeunt.