University of Virginia Library

Act I

Scene I

Mirandola, a magnificent Apartment in the Palace of Charles Stuart. He is seated on a sofa reading a letter. Enter his daughter, Madalena, with a bouquet of flowers in her hand.
Charles Stuart
(coming forward)
I have received most joyous news from France,
The Cardinal informs me in this letter,
That every thing is ripe for active war;
And earnestly requests me, in the same,
To be in Paris by the earliest date,
And thence embark for Britain.

Madalena
Nay, sweet sire!
It cannot be that we must part?

Charles Stuart
We must,
Sweet Madalena! we must part tonight—
Tomorrow I must be in Rome.

Madalena
Tonight,
Dear father? Would you have me here alone?

Charles Stuart
I am appointed General of the Troops.
Prepared for Scotland, whither we now go
To seat thy royal sire upon the throne,
Of his great ancestors.

Madalena
But should you fall?

Charles Stuart
I have prepared for thee the best of homes,
The convent, where, if I should chance to fall
The arm of persecution will be stayed.

Madalena
The convent would be death without thy love!

Charles Stuart
Nay, do not weep, but rest assured it is
The royal House of Scotland calls me hence;
For now my ardent spirit pants to see
The diadem of Caledonia wave
In glory over Stuart's lictour once more;
And when that fatal hour shall come, in which
The destiny of Brunswick shall be sealed,
And Scotland's deathless glory shall be made
An epitaph for England in her grave,
Then shall the royal Madalena share
The glory that encircles Charles' brow,
And down the stream of time descend with him
To after ages, as the holiest name
That ever graced the noble line of kings.

Madalena
I know it is your duty calls you hence,
And feel it is most fruitless to complain;
But then, you know, to mourn is woman's lot!
And, oh! to part from one we hold so dear,
It seems like taking from the rill its source,
And then expecting that that rill should run!

Charles Stuart
Come, Madalena we will part in joy

Madalena
Can not the sceptre of Placenza shield
The child of Valentina from all harm?

Charles Stuart
The royal arm from which you might expect
Protection, looks most jealously upon
The house of Stuart, who is but, at most,
Thy Princess mother's distant relative,
And whose imperial law of state is, none
But male descendants can ascend the throne;
Therefore, the Convent is the safest place,
Where, if by some base hand I chance to fall,
My marriage with thy mother still unknown
To England—you may be protected by
Good Angela, the tutoress of your youth,
And Madre of the Convent. Come, my child.

Madalena
Then it must be—there is no other hope!

(Exeunt.)

Scene II

(A parlour in the Convent of Santa Maria della Pieta. The bell is tolling for midnight vespers. Enter Comptessa, Angela di Pianneza, attended by the Madre of the Convent).
Madre
Where is thy son?

Angela
He will be here tonight.

Madre
I hear he is a noble boy.

Angela
He is
A noble boy—the fountain of my life

Madre
The current of thy life, thou shouldst have said;
Thou art the fountain—he the stream.

Angela
We are
So one another unto each. The stream
Returns to feed the fountain, as the fount
The stream; without the one the other could
Not live.

Madre
And yet thou livest without thy boy.

Angela
Our seldom meetings oftener touch the heart.

Madre
I was a mother once.

Angela
Where is thy child?

Madre
He will not visit me tonight!

Angela
Is he
Afar in some strange land?

Madre
Not strange to him.

Angela
Will he not come again?

Madre
No more!

Angela
No more?
How fearfully it sounds!

Madre
No sound like that!
That echo which the grave gives back to us,
When the last clod is hurled upon it from
Above!

Angela
Then he is dead?

Madre
Alone in heaven.
You are mistaken in the dead—they do
Not die—they live again.

Angela
Died he at birth?

Madre
He died when young—the loadstar of my life
The brightest in the heaven of women's love!

Angela
I pity thee, because thy son is dead!

Madre
Pity thyself—because thy son is dead!

Angela
He is not dead?

Madre
Long as he lives on earth.

Angela
Alas! what if he were?

Madre
Then he were blest.
Earth has no joy—the soul no home, but heaven.

Angela
But then a mother's love is great.

Madre
It is
The greatest of all earthly things—but not
The joy of heaven.

Angela
But you would have him here?

Madre
I would—but rather he were there in joy,
Than here in grief! Methinks I see him now!
The memory of his smile, how bright it is!
The Angels play about his couch tonight!

Angela
Think you he hovers near us now?

Madre
He does
In that immortal shape that cannot die!
I hear his voice from out the past—it speaks
To me!

Angela
Who spake to you! I heard no voice!

Madre
The spirit of my child! Its knock is heard at the door.

Angela
Fernando should be here.

Madre
Let him alone.
For you there is much joy—for him the path
Of life is strewn with thorns! A knock again!
Open the door—some person comes.

Angela
(going)
Tis he!

(Enter Charles Stuart with his daughter Madalena).
Charles Stuart
I pray you pardon me, good madre mine,
For this intruding at so late an hour;
For Good Report has said so much of thee
That this Senora is entrusted as
A boarder to thy care. She is my child,
A Cardinal will tell you who she is,
This letter recommends her to your care. (Giving her the letter).

So now, my best beloved—my only child—
Farewell!

Madalena
Nay, father! do not leave me yet!
Oh! is it not too hard to part from thee? (Falling in his arms).


Charles
It is, sweet daughter! but it must be so!
Once more, sweet Madalena, fare thee well!

(Embracing her, and exits).
Angela
The royal Madalena should not weep
Come, royal lady, this is out of place,
And sadly will affect your noble mind!

Madalena
Sweet Angela! forgive these tender tears,
And know, my sacred mother, that they fall
Not for myself, but for my sire alone!
Do you not see that he has left me here,
Beneath the guardian Angel of your love,
To guard me from the watchful eyes of those
Who would exterminate this hated race?
I feel that he must fall!

Angela
Nay, think not so,
For he that wears upon his lofty brow
The impress of his royal father's seal,
Can never fail of rich success.

Madalena
(aside)
There is
But one alternative—one hope is left—
And that shall frame the purpose of my soul,
At whose invention all the world shall gaze!
I will not chain my fortitude for naught,
But climb Ambition's ladder to the top,
And make my noble daring, overleap
All but the deathless love that gave it birth!
As woman's love transcends all other love,
So shall her Fortitude, the child of love,
Be made the prompter of such noble deeds
As kings shall wonder at with loftiest thought,
And find no parallel on earth or sea!

Angela
Come, royal lady, we must now to bed,
See, it is growing late, the lamps are dim.

(Exeunt omnes.)

Scene III

(The same apartment in Charles Stuart's apartment. He is seated in a sofa reading a letter. Enter Francisca and a Monk).
Francisca
I wait your orders, good my lord.

Charles Stuart
Wait till
You shall receive them an hour from then.

Francisca
I will attend to you, my lord. (Starting away.)


Charles Stuart
Nay stay,
You know my daughter is in the convent now.
Watch over her as if she were your own.

Francisca
It shall be done my lord. When go you hence?

Charles Stuart
Tomorrow I must be in Rome.

Francisca
May heaven
Protect you on your route.

Charles Stuart
The same to you. (Knocking is heard.)

But stay, Francisca. See whose knock that is.

(Exit Francisca, who returns again.)
Francisca
A page is now in waiting at the door,
And craves admittance.

Charles Stuart
He must wait awhile,
I have some business to attend to now.

Francisca
Straight from the Princess, so he says, my lord.

Charles Stuart
What! from my daughter? Show him in

(Francisca shows him in. Enter Madalena, his daughter disguised as a Page.)
Page
(bowing)
My lord. (Handing him a letter.)


Charles Stuart
Whence comes this pacquet, boy? How fares my child?

(Opening the letter.)
Page
So please your royal highness, she is well.

Charles Stuart
What! is it possible that she has sent
The young Di Ossima to be my page.

Page
It is as you have said, my lord.

Charles Stuart
Why so?

Page
I sang for her the song of other days,
And while my spirit panted for the war,
Watching the enthusiastic tears steal down
My cheek from joy which overflowed my heart,
She loved the soul that gave such music birth,
And chose me from that moment as thy Page,
Saying that while you listened to my songs,
You might remember her when far away.

Charles Stuart
But tell me, gentle Page, what is thy name?

Page
Fernando, may it please my lord.

Francisca
(aside)
What! young
Fernando? By my troth, it is her boy!

Charles Stuart
Thy gentle form but ill befits the war,
Thou art not more than sixteen years of age?

Page
I am, your highness, seventeen or more.

Charles Stuart
Our voyage is too great for one like thee.
Thou art as gentle as the summer breeze
Laden with perfumes from the odorous flowers.

Page
And yet my nature, like that summer breeze,
When roused to valor by the breath of Fame,
Can rise as far above its gentler self,
As Ocean, troubled by the angry winds,
Is more tempestuous than the placid lake.
Oh! how my ardent spirit pants to see
The doubtful conflict on the battle-field,
Between two kingdoms, where the bristling spears
To the lightning-music such brisk contention keep,
As stars commingling on the raging sea!

Charles Stuart
But when the martialed multitudes are spread
In countless thousands on the battle-field,
And when their armour glittering in the sun,
Shall strike thine eyes with one effulgent blaze;
And when the clashing spears, the glittering helms,
And splintered javelins, with one obstreperous clang,
In terrible array of close-wedged troops,
Shall mingle with the charge of neighing steeds;
Methinks the harp would better suit thy strength,
Than such calamities of war.

Page
My lord!
Peril is joy to him whose heart is brave.

Charles Stuart
My noble boy! indeed, where got you this?
The Convent is no place for such as thou.
The glossy ringlets of thy raven hair—
The upturned flashings of thy darker eyes,
The olive colour of thy roseate cheeks,
Those frolic-smiles, alternate to the scorn
Which sits enthroned upon thy roseate lips,
All speak the language of thy noble birth
And more, the freedom of an honest heart.
From this day forth it shall be known to all,
That young Di Ossima shall be my Page,
And bear me company to Scotland's shore.

(Exit Francisca.)
Page
(Kneeling)
Most royal master! let me thank thee on
My knee, for filling thus Fernando's heart
With more than mortal joy! this hand shall be
The Guardian Angel of my king's life;
These lips shall soothe him in the hour of grief;
And when some ruthless hand shall aim the blow
At his proud heart, it first shall pass through mine!

Charles Stuart
Most noble boy! look up, my generous youth!
I love thee almost as my own dear child!

Fernando
(Kneeling)
I thank thee on my knees, my noble lord!

Charles Stuart
Rise up, my noble boy! you should not kneel.
But said you not that you could sing, my boy!

Fernando
I did, my lord. What will you have? One grave
Or gay?

Charles
I do not care, choose for yourself.
Invoke you Thalia, or the Muse of Pan?

Fernando
Fernando's Song

Charles Stuart
The music of thy liquid voice is like
The eloquence of an embodied song;
Which feeds upon its own sweet melody.
But, come-tomorrow we must be in Rome.

(Exeunt.)
(Enter Francisca leading in Madalena.)
Madalena
Stay, my father! answer me this once—
Is Angela the sister of the Nuns?

Monk
Why ask me that which you already know?
You saw her there last night.

Madalena
I saw her not—
I have not seen her for these many months.

Monk
You are mistaken—you beheld her there
Last night.

Madalena
What! art thou blind?

Monk
You are, or would
Play false, if you pretend you saw her not.

Madalena
Indeed I saw her not.
Has he not heard of this before? Oh, speak!

Monk
I tell thee Angela is with the Nuns
And wrote to soothe thee in thy sorrow.

Madalena
She has no medicine can cure this grief!

Monk
Nay, cheer thee up—thy sire will come again.

Madalena
Why speak of him? I have no sire!

Monk
No sire?
Nay, you are crazed, my child. You should go home.

Madalena
I shall go soon enough.

Monk
Come, you must go with me.

Madalena
No, father! broken-hearted as I am,
I would not follow thee from this to Heaven,
Until I hear the truth of what I seek;
Then if it be as thou hast said it is,
I care not if you take me to the grave!

Monk
What blasphemy is this to shirk my care?

Madalena
I sought thee knowing thou wouldst speak the truth.

Monk
Who doubts my word? Come, you must go with me.

Madalena
Not yet until the thunderclap is heard
And the fierce lightning blast me!

Monk
Not till then?
Then all the convents in the world were naught!

Madalena
Now comes the thunderstroke! It blasts me now!

Monk
Why talk you thus?

Madalena
Fernando, then, is gone?

Monk
He went with Stuart to the war.

Madalena
Then I am lost! (She faints in his arms.)

Monk
Oh, royal mistress! do not faint!
She must not die so soon! Oh! do not die!
Thou, Father! hear thy servant's prayer! restore
This child again! She breathes! my prayer was heard!
Look up again! look up, my child! She lives!
Oh! speak to me!

Madalena
Then bear me to his arms!

Monk
Be calm! thy father will return again!
No mischief shall befall the royal Charles!
Was ever daughter's love so great as this!

(Exit, bearing her out.)

Scene IV

(A parlour in the Convent of Santa Maria della Pieta, as in Scene Second. Enter the Madre and Angela.)
Madre
Well! where could she have gone?

Angela
I do not know.
She slept in the adjoining room to mine!

Madre
And are you sure she went to bed?

Angela
Most sure.

Madre
The gates were not left open through the night?

Angela
I think they were all shut.

Madre
It is most strange.
But, see, some person comes! it is the Monk!

Angela
He bears the form of one just dead with him!
What can it mean?
(Enter Francisco bearing Madalena in his arms.)
Say, brother, who is this?

Monk
Our daughter Madalena!

Angela
Then she's found!
Where found you her?

Monk
Back at her father's house.

Angela
How came she in this fix?

Monk
Grief for his absence.

Angela
(to Madalena)
Alas! can you not stand alone?

Madalena
(recovering)
Alone!

Angela
You are with us—we are your friends.

Madalena
Fernando! thou wilt come again—I know
Thou wilt!

Angela
Why talk you of Fernando, child?

Madalena
I should have been his wife.

Angela
His wife!

Madalena
His wife—
His wedded wife!

Monk
(to Angela)
Well, that is strange! for he
Came recommended to the king from her.

Angela
Your father left you in our care—we are
Your friends.

Madalena
I have no father!

Monk
Mark you that!

Angela
What! know you not the tutoress of your youth?

Madalena
I would if she were here.

Angela
Is she not here?
Is Angela Di Pianneza not
The Tutoress of your youth?

Madalena
She was to be
My mother, but Fernando now is gone!

Angela
Fernando gone? what mean you by these words?
Fernando is not gone!

Monk
I saw him go—
He went with Stuart to the war.

Angela
My son?

Monk
Thy very son.

Angela
Then I am sad indeed!
It cannot be! Fernando is not gone!
You may have been mistaken in the boy!

Monk
I am mistaken, then, that you are here;
That now the Princess is before thine eyes;
That we have never spoken of this thing;
And that we are not wondering while we speak!

Angela
Are you not Madalena? speak to me!

Madalena
That is my name.

Angela
(to Monk.)
Look! do you know that face?

Monk
'Tis Madalena's face! You are most strange!

Angela
It is most strange! The more we see of her,
The more we wish to see, which, seeing, makes
Us only see the less!

Madalena
Go, bring him back!

Monk
Are you not certain that you heard that voice?

Angela
It is most strange! Fernando is not gone!

Madalena
(springing on her feet)
Has he returned? Who was it spoke that word?

Angela
His mother—thine.

Madalena
(Embracing her)
Oh! bless thee for that word!

Monk
Are you not certain that you heard that voice?

Angela
I am most certain that she speaks most strange!
Have you no father, Madalena?

Madalena
None!
A father had not left me so alone

Angela
Thy father, child, has left us all alone!
But go, Francesco, speed it quick to Rome,
And bring me back my son! Away! begone!

Monk
If laying down my life will ravel out
This mystery, it shall be done. Farewell!

Angela
And be it known to all, that from this day,
The Convent gate shall not be opened till
You come again. Farewell!

Monk
Farewell, my child!

Madalena
Farewell, good father! take my heart with you,
And give it to Fernando! Fare-thee-well!

(Exit Francisco as the curtain falls.)