University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

—Cloisters of St. John Lateran.
Enter Guido, Centius, and Eberardus.
Gui.
(to Eberardus).
Archdeacon of Rome!

Cen.
And by a lynx-trap,
Wherein he snared a wise and watchful man,
Whose face had sharpened with his midnight thoughts.

Gui.
Archdeacon of Rome, and Abbot of St. Paul!

Ebe.
This Hildebrand was but a lowly monk,
'T is not long since,—so have I heard, my lords?

Cen.
Lowly!

Ebe.
Methinks he 's learned and devout?

Gui.
Far more ambitious; darkening beneath a cloud
Of large designs. You are deceived, my lord.
The pious father with the pausing step—
Once pacing slow through deep dim-lighted walls;
A moving image pondering o'er its clay—
Now plants his heel with regular ascent;
Not full of grace, but echoing rapidly,
As though his war-horse waited at the gate.

Ebe.
I know him powerful: the present Pope
Was by his influence seated in the chair.

Gui.
In opposition to Rome's highest nobles,
Who Cadolaus chose. And wherefore thus
Did Hildebrand stretch forth his iron arm?
Not from pure love, not from pure reverence
For the mild virtues of Pope Alexander,
But that he knows him weak, and governs him—
The gilded organ-pipe of his high will.

Cen.
'T is strictly true, my lord; and presently
Swarth Hildebrand to aged Mantius hied—
The late Archdeacon of Rome—beseeching him
To rest him from his cares, and in mean time
Make him his deputy. Obtaining this,
After some pious scruples touching duty,
Unto Pope Alexander straight he sped,
And blazoning his credentials for the office
Rendered by Mantius in full confidence,
Swore that his grace was superannuate,
Unfit for duty, and should be deposed!

Gui.
(looking upward).
Ay, thus it was: bear witness!

Ebe.
By such means
Hath he obtained this last new dignity?

Cen.
He hath: be sure of it. He is a man
Who drives his conscience like a slave before him,
While as a task-master it doth follow others.
This gives him vantage ground.

Gui.
Whereon he wields
A scourge that makes the Vatican pavement stones
Cry sacrilege and heresy! But full soon,
Now that imperial Henry is prepared
To leave our church's tutelage, and assume
His sceptered rights, this haughty abbot's deeds
Shall be made palpable, as will his throes
When the red lights of doom shall wanton o'er him!

Enter Hildebrand, behind.
Ebe.
He must be humbled.

Cen.
'T were no easy task.

Gui.
(to Ebe.)
Humbled, my lord! degraded utterly!
Yes, humbled first, and then cast to the dogs
That howl through Rome, filled with his devilishness.
Sir, your imperial master must know all.

Hil.
(coming forward).
He shall!

Ebe.
You have heard serious words, my lord.

Cen.
Sir, there 's none here who would retract his words.

Hil.
Why should he?—What ye have said—referring, doubtless,
Unto the late archdeacon—is most true.
Old and infirm; incompetent through his cunning,
Which riddled policy, 'twas fit he left us.
Moreover, of his time he ill disposed:
Squared down astrology for private ends,
And innovation bred of controversy;
Read books of vanities and high romance,
Like my lord Guido's “Commentaries.”

Gui.
How!
Profanity—rank blasphemy! Ye heard him?

Hil.
Still, the sometime archdeacon had his virtues.

Cen.
We spake of the present archdeacon, Hildebrand.

Hil.
It is the same—it is the same, my friends,
Whate'er ye spake.

Gui.
(to Ebe.)
The placid arrogance!

Cen.
Think of meek piety; then hear him preach.

Ebe.
Archdeacon, you lack courtesy.

[Organ peals within.
Hil.
My lords,
The mass your souls' devout attendance claims!
We bless the Emperor's journey with the day
That gives the last tint to his ripened age
For temporal government. Firm be his faith!
Our prayers he needs; for much, I fear, his sense
Hungers for luxury, pomps, and violent wars;
Whereto, in all, I judge his nature apt,
By the hot humours of his private talk;
The sanguine colour baked into his skin;
His large, long arms, and his unsettled face;
His blood-shot eyes, and lips that seldom close,

Gui.
This portrait smacks of treason!

Hil.
Our sovereign lord,
The Pontiff, will the homily deliver
In person: I exhort ye, come and hear—
(aside)
The Pontiff whom I set i'the supreme chair!

[Exit.
Gui.
(to Ebe.)
Marked you his action?

Cen.
Like a machinist,
He stalks to hear the creature he hath made.

Gui.
And calls us to admire the mockery!
But come, my lord; we know not what may chance
In turbulent times of change.

[Exeunt Guido and Eberardus.
Cen.
Why, that is true;
And gross, rank-rooted schemes may be submerged
Like oozy weeds in Nile's broad overflow,
Whose ebbing waves beckon with glittering joy
Fertility's advance. There 's some fresh plot
Gathering in Guido's soul; but good hopes oft
In good mens' hearts will blossom 'midst all ills;
So let the seasons work.

Enter Fabio and Tancredi.
Tan.
I fear we are late.

Cen.
(aside).
Nobles of Guido's party. (Aloud).
Why such haste, sirs?

Fab.
His holiness e'en now performs high mass
For the young Emperor.

Cen.
We are in good time:
If not, our absence will disturb no thought.
So dense the crowd, I doubt if you'd find room
To stick a rapier upright there, unless
You sheathed it in the broad back of some monk.

Fab.
A jest that savours of impiety.

Tan.
You're pleasant, sir.

Cen.
A pleasant scene you 've missed.
Erewhile, Count Eberardus, with discourse
Of lilied fragrance, rich in dazzling terms,
Such as an emperor loves, to Guido spake
In raptures of his “poem;” whereupon
Guido's bright eyes, small hawk-nose, and fat chin,
Shone all a-light with pleasure in extreme,
Which suddenly his mounting thoughts inspired
Straightway to catch at interest in the church,
Right through the scattered muses. Soon he cleared
His breast of half its load of Hildebrand;
With eloquent denouncement raising oft
His heaven-ward hand, to shew his filbert nails
And topaz rings, but never losing sight
Of Hildebrand.

Fab.
In which keen work you joined?

Cen.
Doubtless I did: you know I hate the man.
When, all unseen, at height of our discourse—

[Organ peals within. The strain pauses abruptly. Noise, and confused voices.
Fab.
What may this mean?

Tan.
Hath the church taken fire?

Cen.
I heard the voice of Hildebrand!

[Increased noise within.
Enter hurriedly, Guido, Eberardus, Brazute, and several Nobles.
Gui.
Shame! shame!
Oh, frightful violence—profane and brutish—
It pinnacles all crimes, all thought outshoots,
Touching God's footstool with a sharp assault!

Fab., Tan.
What is 't?—what is 't?

Cen.
Nay, gentlemen; explain!

Gui.
Who shall set forth the deed;
Who give a shaping language to its bulk!
Far as mere words can tell—stay, give me breath!—
To the hushed multitude, Pope Alexander
Discoursing solemnly, and pouring forth
Paternal hopes, yet duteous love, for Henry,
Avowed he would not hold pontifical power,
Save with full sanction from the Emperor's throne.
From his high place the holy man came down,
But while descending, Hildebrand, with eyes
Like to a demon, met him on the stairs,
And shouting “Dotard!” smote him in the face
With hand as heavy as a lion's paw,
And seemed prepared to rend him!

All.
Monstrous deed!

[Increased noise and confusion within.
Enter hurriedly, a crowd of Nobles, Cardinals, Bishops, and Monks; followed by Hildebrand, with outspread arms.
Hil.
Form no decision; hear me first I say!
Form no decision; fie on irrational tongues,
And hasty judgments; noise and blind reproof!
Are ye a deafening land-storm wildly raging,
And would ye tear the sheltering forest down?
Trust not yourselves upon a barren heath;
Trust not the Emperor's frail and worldly strength;
Look to the See of Rome! but look ye well
That giant-power be emblemed by a giant,
Not by a yeanling lamb. Oh, sons of Rome—
Nobles and dignitaries of the church—
Pardon me! pardon me a fatal act—
I mean the ignorance of erring choice—
I mean the choice of weakness 'stead of strength—
I mean the installation of Pope Alexander.
Lo! he hath perilled all your rights and power;
Your fortunes, and the purity of your faith;
The very stature of the pontifical office.
Behold, the corner stone o' the Vatican
Trembled! I rushed to save it from the crash,
And in the doing did forget myself
In acting for the safety of us all.
Pope Alexander I pronounce a worm!
Ye must not let him teach us how to crawl
Before an emperor's footstool: rather say
He shall be cast down from the Pontiff's seat,
Whereon my ignorance besought ye place him!

[Murmurs of dissatisfaction, and applause.
Braz.
It shall be done!

Tan.
Who tells thee so, lord Cardinal?

1st Car.
My lord Archdeacon speaks with reason.

Cen.
With reason!

Gui.
No; with madness! with ambition!

Hil.
Shall I set you in his place?

2nd Car.
The Pope's vicegerency is given by God.

Fab.
Hear my lord Cardinal!

2nd Car.
'T is our great law!

1st Car.
Let 's to the Council!

Voices.
To the Council!

Hil.
Oh, most humbly—to the council!

Gui.
Proud Abbot of St. Paul, and Rome's Archdeacon,
Have a care!

Hil.
To the Council, my Lord Archbishop!
I will have care, and you shall thank me for it:
Most humbly—to the Council—to the Council!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

—Grand Front of St. John Lateran.
Enter the Countess Matilda and Godfrey.
Godf.
His mine is sprung, and into pestilent air
He has blown himself.

Mat.
We must be calm, and wait.

Godf.
Calm! is it possible?

Mat.
'T is only just.

Godf.
Seest not thine error yet?—seest not, Matilda,
This object whom thou 'st long beheld with thoughts
Devout, that mingled in thine orisons,
Is fraught with worldliness; one who, beneath
The shaded haunts of sanctity, conceals
Passions like dragons, violent and foul.

Mat.
He has, indeed,
Such strength of passion as assorts with greatness
Of thought and action; yet, my lord, believe,
Though he may err, as in this act he has,
In Hildebrand is nothing base or mean.
And let me tell thee, husband, I believe
There may be reason, when we shall know all,
In that which seemed so mad.

Godf.
Matilda, cease!
Infatuated woman! cast away
The film that, like a cowl, doth blind thine eyes:
Dismiss this vicious abbot from thy prayers;
Confess not to him: of thy love I ask it;—
Nay, of thy holiest faith. Oh, wouldst thou gaze
At heaven's clear sapphire through the gates of hell?

Mat.
My lord! forbear these impious—

Godf.
Forbear thou!
I will not listen to this vain defence
Of such a criminal.
[Exit Godfrey.

Mat.
This headstrong hate
I fear will snap all ties.
Enter Hildebrand.
What hast thou done?

Hil.
Well; very well.

Mat.
Resolve me of all doubt!

Hil.
'T was impulse from on high, not my design.
Daughter, they rolled before me like a sea;
Then paused to let me walk upon their necks,
As foamy as they were,—I was upheld
By the deputed fire that wings my soul.
The council has concluded as I wished;
And thus the mutinous churchmen are put down.
I left them when I saw 'twas working right;
For I can stand alone, therefore have friends.

Mat.
Why didst thou smite the Pontiff—Oh, why didst?

Hil.
Because his weak-souled loyalty to Henry
Smote like an axe against the See of Rome.
I heard Time's echoes through the world's forest ringing;
I saw the tree which should o'ertop them all,
Like to a sun-beam falling into night,
And therefore stood I forth and smote that man,
As I will take the axe from out his hand.

Mat.
Father, enough: I do believe thy truth
Equals thy courage in this lofty cause.
I much lament thou hast an enemy
In Godfrey, who proclaims thee full of evil,
And worldliness and vice.

Hil.
His proclamation
Is as a plague-wind howling through a hall,
Throng'd with grey statues of the elder gods.
Its breath can never taint me: let it proclaim!
There is no vice can dwell in a soul of power:
It may appear in transitory fits;
But, like blear lightning at the pitch of noon,
It leaves no flaw in heaven. Poisonous dews
Are presently o'ermastered by the sun,
Which sucks them up, but of their influence
Partaking nought, absorbs and turns to good.

Mat.
Most gladly, most devoutly do I hear thee;
And do again surrender my whole soul
To thy paternal charge.

Hil.
Daughter, 'tis well.
High thrones have need of thee; and most of all,
Pontifical Rome, in dire emergency,
Looks for thine utmost aid.

Mat.
It shall be given:—
But what the threatened peril?

Hil.
Loss of power;
And that comprises every loss: drain ocean
Of her world-swinging waves, then may her bed
Serve to herd cattle in, safe from all storms,
And browsing fat amid the fossil shapes.
Shall low desires of animal life possess
Our measureless realm, stupendous e'en in death,
And our lost glories give them food and shade!
Oh, daughter! it is granted thee of heaven
This peril to avert. The Tuscan army,
Obedient to thy call, must hither speed;
And secretly arriving in the night,
Soon as the Emperor hath departed hence,
May enter suddenly the gates of Rome
To act as I direct.

Mat.
What then?
Oh, father! let no blood be spilt in this.

Hil.
None need, nor shall, unless of those who 're mad,
And run upon the spears.

Mal.
I am content.

Hil.
All the strong posts in Rome I'd have thee guard;
And to what end I will in brief explain.

[Exeunt.
Enter Godfrey and Guido.
Godf.
Have I not cause, my lord?

Gui.
You have—you have!
My lord duke, listen to me: 'tis the etherial—
The etherial you should study.

Godf.
School you a heart
Amid its anguish with a churchman's dreams!
Know'st thou my soul? what think'st thou of its thrall?

Gui.
Thy noble lady's loyalty to thee
Sinks all absorbed in his insidious wiles.

Godf.
Her loyalty and love—all thoughts and hopes!
Oh, my lord archbishop, into thine ear
I fain would pour my double source of grief;
For while Matilda on the ghostly breast—
The devilish breast—of Hildebrand reclines,
And follows all the counsels he instils,
The Emperor lingers ever in her path,
And feeds upon her beauty with his eyes.—
Hast not observed it?

Gui.
Never. But, if true,
Wer't not a means—a fortunate means—to turn
The Emperor 'gainst this abbot, whom we hate?

Godf.
Call you it fortunate? Is there no word
That to the mind shall paint a hideous thought
Blacker than blackness;—no revolting act
That, o' the instant it first stings the brain,
Shall brand the forehead? If that such there be,
Or word or act, call it a fortunate means
For sure perdition of high manhood here,
With flames hereafter. Shame on thee, my lord!
Thy sacred robes change colour as I gaze,
And startle apprehension! I had hoped
Far different consolation and advice:
But I will fly the hated city walls,
And trust the day not distant when I'll find
A means which honour's hand shall proudly own,
And vengeance feel complete!

[Exit.
Gui.
Vengeance on whom?
The Emperor, or that abbot?—not on me.
So angry! I was unguarded—perhaps even wrong.
Hildebrand moves Matilda to this pass—
Whether she know it or not, I see 't is done—
That Godfrey, jealous of the Emperor's sighs,
May take no part with him. I do dissect
This truth like a burnt ortolan.
Enter the Emperor, with Eberardus, and suite.
Pure breezes
And temperate suns attend your majesty,
Unto the foot-stool o' the Germanic throne!
Do you set out to day?

Emp.
My lord, we do.

Ebe.
But of this headstrong Abbot Hildebrand,—

Emp.
Now spare us, sir! no more of Hildebrand:
We shall erewhile appoint another Pontiff
In Alexander's place; one who shall keep
All froward churchmen in becoming check.

Gui.
Therein your majesty will render service
Of deepest import to the peace of Rome.

Emp.
(to Ebe.)
Your ear, sir!
My message to the Countess of Tuscany—

Ebe.
Was duly given.

Emp.
(aside).
Where'er I walk my spirit is possessed
With ravishing desire, which ever sees
Matilda's near, yet still receding form.
Her large clear eyes are full of azure light;
Her breath of balmy prayer; and her tall shape,
Is by its beauty softened like a dream.
How shall I compass so much love and dread?
The angel and the woman hold my will
Balanced with fear of heaven. Hist! she comes.

Enter Matilda, attended.
Emp.
Ah! noble princess, rich in southern skies,
And teeming fields, more rich in subject hearts,
Accept our farewell homage, and permit
A hope to beam that not all unregretted,
Nor soon forgotten, shall we hence depart.

Mat.
The Majesty of Germany doth bear
His own beams round about his brows, nor needs
To ask for aught to light his hopes.

Emp.
Is 't so?
Now could I cast my throne into the sea,
And plant my sceptre in the quiet soil,
To stand amidst the vivid summer buds!
Why must I journey hence?

Mat.
Oh, royal sir!
Duty, imperious as the sway you bear,
Calls from your realms.

Emp.
Yet do you see me, lady,
Like to a magic arrow from the clouds,
Fixed trembling here.

Gui.
(aside).
Bright, sensitive,—and pointed.

Mat.
What should we say,
If that the sun enamoured of the stars,
Unto night's palace did all day resort;
His radiant diadem in shades absorbed;
And while he slept with sphered music tranced,
His mortal creatures languished in the dark,
And maddened at the apparent end of time?
Oh, royal sir, the hour of dawn glides by,
While thou, but on the threshold of intent,
Stand'st shining at the gates. God speed you, sir!

Emp.
I cannot, will not hence depart, until
Thy promise I obtain. The German court
Shall wait thy presence ere one festive day
Our advent clarion. Thou wilt visit us!

Gui.
(aside).
Godfrey hath reason for his jealous fear;
And yet I doubt the event.

Mat.
Imperial Henry!
Myself, and Godfrey will attend your pleasure.

Gui.
(aside).
Godfrey 's misled: there 's nought to fear in this.

Emp.
Thyself; none else can live within my thoughts.

Mat.
Ah, speak not thus: in Rome are many things
That claim devout and deepest thought.

Emp.
What mean you?

Mat.
I mean the safety of the See of Rome,
Its faith, and those who represent its power:
Oh, fill thy thoughts with visions such as these!
And in especial would I name to thee,
As one deserving reverent confidence,
The learned Abbot Hildebrand.

Gui.
Ahem!

Emp.
Whom say'st thou?
Oh, I have heard and know enough of him:
We'll bear him well in mind—the learned monk.—
When shall our court behold thee, and be blest?

Mat.
As thou dost hold the grace of highest heaven,
And of the church, my prayers shall follow thee:
And to thy court some brief space will I come,
As I shall find thine ardent soul waft back
The measure of its faith towards templed Rome.

Emp.
Now, by my sword and its high warlike hopes,
All faith, all feeling shall return to thee!
Such be our bond: Matilda, fare thee well!

[Exeunt Emperor, Eberardus, Guido, and suite.
Mat.
He darkened o'er the name of Hildebrand.—
Whate'er his bent, I will at once secure
The safety of the papal power, and plant
The Tuscan troops where they may best defend
Our purpose; then, if vast designs take root,
Build up a throne upon the thrones of kings.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

—A Cell in the Monastery of St. Paul. Table and lamp, with skull and crucifix.
Enter Hildebrand.
Hil.
Portentous changes wrestle in the air!
I see, methinks, a mighty shadow fall,
While solid pillars lift a solid throne,
Which in fixed radiance stands. Strong deeds awake,
And clamouring throng the portals of the hour.
Weak-minded Alexander thou must die!
I placed thee on a tower, and thou didst offer
A king the pass-key to our wall of strength;
Therefore 't is good thou diest. Plead not, my soul!
The wheels of destiny pass o'er his corse.
There 's much to do. The time for me is ripe:
It was not wise till now that I should take
The sphere which long hath rolled before my grasp,
Swimming and heaving in the etherial space;
But, with contentious and eruptive fires,
Threatening precipitate sovereignty. Who 's there?
Enter Damianus.
(Aside).
He has been listening at the door—dull fool!
(Aloud).
There 's much to do.

Dami.
I feel it in the air
With every respiration.

Hil.
Why comest here
At such an hour?

Dami.
Lord Abbot, I would ask
What should be done, touching Pope Alexander?

Hil.
Nothing. He 's very safe.

Dami.
Safe in the dark cell where your orders thrust him.

Hil.
I know it.

Dami.
But what next, for he is old,
And needeth comfort in imprisonment.

Hil.
Do nothing. Leave him.

Dami.
His cell is very damp, and cold dews trickle
Down his grey head and beard, as bowed he sits,
Counting his beads. Beseech you, good lord abbot,
Change his sad dwelling!

Hil.
Let him take his shroud,
And finish it i'the antechamber!

Dami.
But, my lord,
How—how shall we answer this?

Hil.
Answer it!
Who shall presume to gall and question us?
Who make us constantly responsible—
Who 'd force us answer, but this Alexander—
Therefore death's scythe shall give him sweeping thanks.

Dami.
And for his service and his burial—

Hil.
Let him have Night and Silence! A century hence,
When a few dust-filled bones perchance are found,
'T will shew that somebody died there. For the rest,
I know my ‘answer,’ let those ask who may:
Mention his name no more, for he has passed!

Dami.
My lord, good night:—a deep good night, I pray!

[Exeunt, at opposite sides.

SCENE IV.

—Front of the Vatican. Castle of St. Angelo in the distance. Sunrise.
Enter Centius.
Cen.
I've seen the sun rise now these thirty years,
And scarcely missed a morning. Ye blest saints!
Low in the grave I'd lay my satisfied head
Could I behold the popular cause advance
With steps as regular and full of light.
On one side Hildebrand seeks to destroy
All liberty of conscience: with like zeal
Our nobles grasp at every rood of earth;
And knowing the rich vein of labour's ore,
Would turn their fellow creatures into coin.
Hence, they hate Hildebrand, who'd act their part,
And wield, besides, high sacerdotal power;
But whether in return, he most doth hate,
Or fear, or scorn, soon must events give proof.
Enter Guido, slowly.
Gravely you read the earth, and seem with each step
To turn a fresh page!

Gui.
Each far worse than the last—
But the same subject.

Cen.
It must be a dark one;
Yet with some fascination?

Gui.
It is a dark one.
Last night I went forth for a lonely walk,
And paused in front o'the monastery of St. Paul.
I know not why, nor what had led me thither:
I stood among the dark-mossed uncouth trees,
Which rose against the cold and breathless sky
Like sculptured gods of Babylon's early youth;
And thought that one a rugged outline bore,
Like unto Hildebrand—so dense and still.
Sometimes at mass—sometimes alone in the cloisters—
Sometimes i'the street—he stands just in that way.

Cen.
But what of this?—why do you look so pale,
And gaze around? what is 't that moves you thus?

Gui.
Sudden presentiments that forestall wisdom
With most unreasonable fact.

Cen.
My lord!
Sure this is weakness—but your tale 's not done?

Gui.
It is not.

Cen.
Nay, proceed.

Gui.
Wild and abrupt
The wind rose, like a dragon lashing about,
And o'er the northern wall, ere I could turn,
A vulture 'gainst the high blast beat its way
With clanging power, and passing o'er my head
Sent forth a cry that pierced into my soul—
Enter Fabio hastily.
What wouldst thou say?

Fab.
Pope Alexander 's dead!

Gui.
See there! see there! I felt it would be so

Cen.
How dead—how died he? Answer us at once

Fab.
Nay, sir, I do not know.

Gui.
He hath been murdered!
In St. Paul's monastery he was held close,
Pending the recent council, and therein
He hath been foully dealt with!

Fab.
Foully indeed.

Cen.
(aside).
What follows this?—I will away to learn.

[Exit.
Enter three Cardinals, followed by several Abbots and Monks, in alarm.
Gui.
Now, now!

1st Car.
Oh, my lord Guido!

Gui.
Is the news true?

1st Car.
We come but now from viewing
His pale remains within the monastery.

Gui.
Where, then, is Hildebrand?

1st Car.
He 's gone; and no one
Knows whither.

Gui.
Gone!—fled?

1st Car.
He must be found anon.

Fab.
Saw ye no blood upon the reverend form?

Gui.
There 's not a moment to waste! Lords, Cardinals,
And all you heads and dignitaries of the church,
Full synod let us straight convoke, to search
The hideous truth out; retribution hurl
Upon the soul of guilt; and fix with whom
The future power be vested.

[Music outside, as of a distant march.
Fab.
What 's that?

Gui.
It sounds like a march!

1st Car.
Without delay,
Let 's to full conclave at St. John Lateran.

[March approaching.
Enter Centius and Tancredi, followed by several Monks.
Gui.
What is 't, my lords?

Cen.
You will know soon enough,

Gui.
Speak, brothers!

1st Monk.
Soldiers, at St. John Lateran,
Have taken up their post, and guard the gates!

[March advances.
Enter, slowly, an Officer, at the head of troops. They march across, and exit. Enter the Countess Matilda and Cardinal Brazute, between two Officers, heading troops, which range themselves in front of the Vatican.
Gui.
Daughter of Tuscany!—illustrious lady!
What wouldst thou do?

Mat.
Secure the Vatican,
Even as now St. John's gates have been guarded.

Gui.
Secure!

Mat.
Would ye know more, my lords?
Those troops which have passed on, proceed to occupy
The Castle of St. Angelo on the rock.

Gui.
Oh, wherefore this?

Mat.
Because the Pontiff 's dead.

Gui.
We know it, madam, and have convoked a synod;
But why these troops?

Mat.
To Alexander's seat
There must be a successor.

1st Car.
We shall choose one.

Mat.
You 're spared that trouble; the successor 's chosen.

Gui.
Chosen!

[Distant march. Troops are seen to mount guard at the Castle of St. Angelo on the rock.
Voices.
Vivat sanctus Pater Gregorius Septimus!

[Applause and loud murmurs.
Braz.
Vivat!

Enter Hildebrand.
Hil.
Peace! Let tumultuous tongues be mute:
I do submit me to the elective voice.

[Shouts.
Cen.
(to Gui.)
He may submit his neck unto the block
As suddenly, ere long.

Gui.
(aside).
I am all air!

[Exeunt.