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| 5. | ACT V. |
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 | The complete works of N.P. Willis |  |
5. ACT V.
SCENE I.
[Angelo's Studio. A full-length picture, in a large frame,
stands on the floor against an easel, placed nearly in the
centre of the room. Two curtains, so arranged as to cover
the picture when drawn together. Angelo stands in an
imploring attitude near the picture, his pencil and palette
in his hands, appealing to Isabella, who is partly turned
from him in an attitude of refusal. The back wall of the
room such as to form a natural ground for a picture.]
Angelo.
Hear me, sweet!
Isabella.
And waste the hours in love and idleness.
You shall not paint to-day, dear Angelo!
Angelo.
But listen!
Isabella.
For all you give to that is stolen from me.
I like not half a look that turns away
Without an answer from the eyes it met!
I care not you should see my lips' bright color
Yet wait not for the breath that floats between!
Angelo.
Wilt listen?
Isabella.
But there's a pencil in those restless fingers,
Which you've a trick of touching to your lips —
And while you talk, my hand would do as well!
And if it's the same tale you told before
Of certain vigils you forgot to keep,
Look deep into my eyes till it is done —
For, like the children's Lady-in-the-well,
I only hark because you're looking in!
Will you talk thus to me?
Angelo.
But close upon thy voice, sweet Isabella!
A boding whisper sinks into mine ear
Which tells of sudden parting! If 'tis false, —
We shall have still a lifetime for our love,
But if 'tis true, oh think that, in my picture,
Will lie the footprint of an angel gone!
Let me but make it clearer!
Isabella.
I think thou lov'st the picture, and not me!
So different am I, that, did I think
To lose thee presently, by death or parting,
For thy least word, or look, or slightest motion —
Nay, for so little breath as makes a sigh
I would not take, to have it pass untreasured.
The empire of a star!
(While she was uttering this reproach. Angelo has looked
at her with delight, and touched his portrait with a few
rapid strokes.)
Angelo.
(Throws his pencil to the ground.)
On earth, again, do miracle so fair!
Oh Isabella! as the dusky ore
Waits for the lightning's flash to turn to gold —
As the dull vapor waits for Hesperus,
Then falls in dew-drops, and reflects a star —
So waited I that fire upon thy lips,
To make my masterpiece complete in beauty!
Isabella.
The fancy flattering where the heart should murmur.
I think you have no heart!
Angelo.
The heart is ever lowly with the fortunes,
Tho' the proud mind sits level with a king!
I gave you long ago both heart and soul,
But only one has dared to speak to you!
Yet, if astonishment will cure the dumb,
Give it a kiss —
Isabella (smiling).
(A loud knock is heard.)
(He flies to the window, and looks out.)
Angelo.Alas! that warning voice! They've traced thee hither!
Lost! Lost!
Isabella.
No! no! defend thy picture only,
And all is well yet!
Angelo.
(Draws his sword, and stands before the curtain in an attitude
of defiance. Enter Tortesa with officers and guard.)
Tortesa.
For, by your drawn sword and defying air,
Your conscious thought foretells it.
Angelo.
(You took one, signor, when you last were here —
If you've forgot it, well!) — but, commonly,
The giver of a blow needs have his sword
Promptly in hand. You'll pardon me!
Tortesa.
For, if my fears are just, good signor painter!
You've not a life to spare upon a quarrel!
In brief, the corse of a most noble lady
Was stolen last night from holy sanctuary.
And, should the body not be found therein,
I'm bid to see the picture of the lady —
Whereon (pray, mark me!) if I find a trace
Of charms fresh copied, more than may beseem
The modest beauty of a living maid,
I may arrest you on such evidence
For instant trial!
Angelo.
But, for my picture, though a moment's glance
Upon its pure and hallowed loveliness
Would give the lie to your foul thought of me,
It is the unseen virgin of my brain!
And as th' inviolate person of a maid
Is sacred ev'n in presence of the law,
My picture is my own — to bare or cover!
Look on it at your peril!
Tortesa (to the guard).
Take his sword.
(The guards attack and disarm him.)
Angelo.
Coward and villain!
(Tortesa parts the curtains with his sword, and Angelo
starts amazed to see Isabella, with her hands crossed on
her breast, and her eyes fixed on the ground, standing
motionless in the frame which had contained his picture.
The tableau deceives Tortesa, who steps back to contemplate
what he supposes to be the portrait of his bride.)
Tortesa.
'Tis Isabella's self! Why, this is wondrous!
The brow, the lip, the countenance — how true!
I would have sworn that gloss upon the hair,
That shadow from the lash, were nature's own —
Impossible to copy! (Looks at it a moment in silence.)
Yet methinks
The color on the cheek is something faint!
Angelo
(hurriedly).
Step this way farther!
Tortesa
(changing his position).
The hand is not as white as Isabella's —
But painted to the life! If there's a feature
That I would touch again, the lip, to me,
Seems wanting in a certain scornfulness
Native to her! It scarcely marred her beauty.
Perhaps 'tis well slurred over in a picture!
Yet stay! I see it, now I look again!
How excellently well!
(Guards return from searching the house.)
Soldier (holding up Isabella's veil).
This bridal veil — no more.
Angelo
(despairingly).
Oh! luckless star!
Tortesa.
With all my soul! This veil, I know it well —
Was o'er the face of that unhappy lady
When laid in sanctuary. You are silent!
Perhaps you scorn to satisfy me here!
I trust you can — in your extremity!
But I must bring you to the duke! Lead on!
Angelo.
An instant!
Tortesa
(courteously).
At your pleasure!
Angelo
(to Isabella, as he passes close to her).
By all our love, stir not!
Isabella
(still motionless).
Farewell!
(Tortesa motions for Angelo to precede him with the guard,
looks once more at the picture, and with a gesture expressive
of admiration, follows. As the door closes, Isabella
steps from the frame.)
Isabella.
Close on thy steps, beloved Angelo!
And find a way to bring thee home again!
My heart is light, and hope speaks cheerily!
And lo! bright augury! — a friar's hood
For my disguise! Was ever omen fairer!
Thanks! my propitious star!
(Envelops herself in the hood, and goes out hastily.)
SCENE II.
[A Street. Enter Tomaso, with his hat crushed and pulled
sulkily over his eyes, his clothes dirty on one side, and
other marks of having slept in the street. Enter Zippa
from the other side, meeting him.]
Zippa.
Tomaso! Is't thou? Where's Angelo?
Tomaso.
It is I, and I don't know!
Zippa.
Did he come home last night?
Tomaso.
“Did he come home!” Look there! (Pulls
off his hat and shows his dirty side.)
Zippa.
Then thou hast slept in the street!
Tomaso.
Ay!
Zippa.
And what has that to do with the coming home
of Angelo?
Tomaso.
What had thy father to do with thy having
such a nose as his!
(Zippa holds up a ducat to him.)
What! gave thy mother a ducat? — cheap as dirt!
Zippa.
Blockhead, no! I'll give thee the ducat if thou
wilt tell me, straight on, what thou know'st of Angelo!
Tomaso.
I will — and thou shalt see how charity is
rewarded.
Zippa.
Begin! — begin!
Tomaso.
Last night, having prayed later than usual at
vespers —
Zippa.
Ehem!
Tomaso.
I was coming home in a pious frame of mind —
Zippa.
— And a bottle in thy pocket.
Tomaso.
No! — in my hand. What should I stumble
over —
Zippa.
— But a stone.
Tomaso.
A woman!
Zippa.
Fie! what's this you're going to tell me?
Tomaso.
She was dying with cold. Full of Christian
charity —
Zippa.
— And new wine.
Tomaso.
Old wine, Zippa! The wine was old!
Zippa.
Well!
Tomaso.
I took her home.
Zippa.
Shame! — at thy years?
Tomaso.
And Angelo being out for the night —
Zippa.
There! there! you may skip the particulars.
Tomaso.
I say my own bed being in the garret —
Zippa.
Well, well!
Tomaso.
I put her into Angelo's.
Zippa.
Oh, unspeakable impudence! Didst thou do that?
Tomaso.
I had just left her to make a wine posset
(for she was well nigh dead), when in popped my master,
— finds her there — asks no questions, — kicks me into the
street, and locks the door! There's the reward of virtue!
Zippa.
Did he not turn out the woman, too?
Tomaso.
Not as I remember.
Zippa.
Oh worse and worse! And thou hast not seen
him since?
Tomaso.
I found me a soft stone, said my prayers, and
went to sleep.
Zippa.
And hast thou not scen him to-day?
Tomaso.
Partly, I have!
Zippa.
Where? Tell me quickly!
Tomaso.
Give me the ducat.
Zippa
(gives it to him).
Quick! say on!
Tomaso.
I have a loose recollection, that, lying on that
stone Angelo called me by name. Looking up, I saw two
Angelos, and two Tortesas, and soldiers with two spears
each. (He figures in the air with his finger as if trying to
remember.)
Zippa.
(Aside
— Ha! he is apprehended for the murder
of Isabella! Say that my evidence might save his life!
Not unless he love me!) What way went he, Tomaso?
(Tomaso points.)
This way? (Then has he gone to be tried before the
duke.) Come with me, Tomaso! Come.
Tomaso.
Where?
Zippa.
To the duke's palace! Come! (Takes his arm.)
Tomaso.
To the duke's palace? There'll be kicking of
heels in the anti-chamber! — Dry work! I'll spend thy ducat
as we go along. Shall it be old wine, or new? [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
[Hall of judgment in the ducal palace. The duke upon a
raised throne on the left. Falcone near his chair, and
Angelo on the opposite side of the stage with a guard.
Isabella behind the guard, disguised as a monk. Tortesa
stands near the centre of the stage, and Zippa and Tomaso
in the left corner, listening eagerly. Counsellors at a table,
and crowd of spectators at the sides and rear.]
Are there more witnesses?
Counsellor.
No more, my liege!
Duke.
None for the prisoner?
Counsellor.
Beyond a firm denial.
Falcone.
Another proof, my liege, that he is guilty?
Duke.
(To the counsellor.) Sum up the evidence.
(He reads.)
Counsellor.
That for no honest or sufficient end,
The pris'ner practised on your noble grace
And Count Falcone a contrived deceit,
Whereby he gained admittance to the lady.
(Tomaso exhibits signs of alarm.)
Duke.
Most true!
Counsellor.
He had continual access to the palace;
And, having grown enamored of the bride,
Essayed by plots that never were matured,
And quarrels often forced on her betrothed,
To stay the bridal. That, against the will
Of her most noble father and the duke,
The bride was resolute to keep her troth;
And so, preparing for the ceremony,
Upon her bridal morning was found dead.
'Tis proved again — that, while she lay in state,
The guard, at several periods of the night,
Did force the pris'ner from the chapel door;
And when the corse was stolen from sanctuary
All search was vain, till, in the pris'ner's hands
Was found the veil that shrouded her. To these
And lighter proofs of sacrilege and murder
The prisoner has opposed his firm denial —
No more!
Duke.
Does no one speak in his behalf?
Tortesa.
Upon the prisoner's quarrels with myself,
I'm free to say that they had such occasion
As any day may rise 'twixt men of honor.
As one of those aggrieved by his offences,
You'll wonder I'm a suiter for his pardon —
But so I am! Besides that there is room
To hope him innocent, your grace's realm
Holds not so wondrous and so rare a painter!
If he has killed the lady Isabella,
'Tis some amends that in his glorious picture
She's made immortal! If he stole her corse,
He can return, for that disfigured dust,
An Isabella fresh in changeless beauty!
Were it not well to pardon him, my lord?
Isabella.
(Aside.
— Oh, brave Tortesa!)
Duke.
And eloquently, signor! but the law
Can recognise no gift as plea for pardon.
For his rare picture he will have his fame;
But if the Isabella he has painted
Find not a voice to tell his innocence,
He dies at sunset!
Isabella
(despairingly).
Yet he shall live!
(She drops the cowl from her shoulders, and with her arms
folded, walks slowly to the feet of the duke.)
Falcone
(rushing forward).
My daughter!
Angelo
(with a gesture of agony).
Lost!
Tortesa.
Alive!
Zippa
(energetically).
Tortesa 'll have her!
(Isabella retires to the back of the stage with her father, and
kneels to him, imploring in dumb show; the duke and
others watching.)
Tortesa.
Now for my lands, or Isabella? — Stay!
'Tis a brave girl, by Heaven!
(Reflects a moment.)
And so to Angelo! Her love for me
A counterfeit to take suspicion off!
It was well done! I feel my heart warm to her!
(Reflects again.)
(Looks round at Isabella.)
Herself — and not a picture! Now, by Heaven,
A girl like that should be the wife of Cæsar!
(Presses his hand upon his heart.)
(Falcone comes forward, followed by Isabella with gestures
of supplication.)
Falcone.
My liege, I pray you keep the prisoner
In durance till my daughters fairly wed.
He has contrived against our peace and honor,
And howsoe'er this marvel be made clear,
She stands betrothed, if he is in the mind,
To the brave signor, yonder!
Duke.
What says Tortesa?
Tortesa.
I will address my answer to this lady.
(Turns to Isabella.)
Fair Isabella! I became your suiter.
My motives were unworthy you and me —
Yet I was true — I never said I loved you!
Your father sold you me for lands and money —
(Pardon me, duke! And you, fair Isabella!
You will — ere I am done!) I pushed my suit!
The bridal day came on, and closed in mourning;
For the fair bride it dawned upon was dead.
I had my shame and losses to remember —
But in my heart sat sorrow uppermost,
And pity — for I thought your heart was broken.
(Isabella begins to discover interest in his story, and Angelo
watches her with jealous cagerness.)
Your father holds me to my bargain for you!
The lights are burning on the nuptial altar —
The bridal chamber and the feast, all ready!
What stays the marriage now? — my new-born love!
That nuptial feast were fruit from Paradise —
I can not touch it till you bid me welcome!
That nuptial chamber were the lap of Heaven —
I can not enter till you call me in!
(Takes a ring from his bosom.)
Tell me to give it to my rival there —
I'll break my heart to do so! (Holds it toward Angelo.)
Isabella
(looking at her father).
Would I might!
Tortesa.
You shall, if't please you!
Falcone.
My liege, permit me to take home my daughter!
And, signor, you — if you would keep your troth —
To-morrow come, and end this halting bridal!
Home! Isabella! (Takes his daughter's hand.)
Tortesa
(taking it from him).
My gracious liege, there is a law in Florence,
That if a father, for no guilt or shame,
Disown, and shut his door upon his daughter,
She is the child of him who succors her;
Who, by the shelter of a single night,
Becomes endowed with the authority
Lost by the other. Is't not so?
Duke.
The law of Florence, and I see your drift —
For, look, my lord (to Falcone), if that dread apparition
You saw last night, was this your living daughter,
You stand within the peril of that law.
Falcone.
My liege!
Isabella
(looking admiringly at Tortesa).
Oh noble signor!
Tortesa
(to Isabella).
Shall I give Angelo the ring?
(As she is about to take it from him, Tomaso steps in behind,
and pulls Isabella by the sleeve.)
Tomaso.
What wilt thou do for dowry? I'm thy father?
But — save some flasks of wine —
Isabella
(sorrowfully).
For thy sake, Angelo!
(Tortesa looks at her an instant, and then steps to the table
and writes.)
Angelo
(coming forward with an effort).
I stand between thee and a life of sunshine.
Thou wert both rich and honored, but for me!
That thou couldst wed me, beggar as I am,
Is bliss to think on — but see how I rob thee!
I have a loving heart — but am a beggar!
There is a loving heart —
(Points to Tortesa.)
(Tortesa steps between them, and hands a paper to Angelo.)
Tortesa
(to Isabella).
Say thou wilt wed the poorer?
Isabella
(offers her hand to Angelo).
So I will!
Tortesa.
Yet, in his genius, has one jewel more!
Isabella.
(Angelo reads earnestly.)
Tortesa.
'Tis thought ill-luck to have the better sword;
For the good angels, who look sorrowing on,
In heavenly pity take the weaker side!
Isabella.
What is it, Angelo?
Angelo.
Of the Falcone palaces and lands,
And all the moneys forfeit by your father! —
By Heaven, I'll not be mocked!
Tortesa.
What mockery in that?
Isabella
(tenderly to Tortesa).
To make refusal of your love a pain!
Tortesa.
So should the blood plead for me at your heart!
Shall I give up the ring? (offers it.)
Isabella
(hesitatingly).
Let me look on it!
Tortesa
(withdrawing it).
Oh is it fair that Angelo had days,
To tell his love, and I have not one hour?
How know you that I can not love as well?
Isabella.
'Tis possible!
Tortesa.
Ah! thanks!
Isabella.
My heart to him!
Tortesa.
If, of these two gifts you must take back one,
Rob not the poorer! Shall I keep the ring?
(Isabella looks down.)
Angelo.(Tears the deed in two.)
Isabella
(advancing a step with clasped hands).
You'll kill me, Angelo! Come back!
Tortesa
(seizing him by the hand as he hesitates, and flinging
him back with a strong effort).
He shall!
Angelo.
Some other weapon than a glozing tongue,
Follow me forth where we may find the room!
Tortesa.
You shall not go.
Angelo
(draws).
Have at thee then!
(Attacks Tortesa, who disarms him, and holds his sword-point
to his breast. Duke and others come forward.)
Tortesa.
'Twixt me and heaven, boy! is the life I hold
Now at my mercy! Take it, Isabella!
And with it the poor gift he threw away!
I'll write a new deed ere you've time to marry,
So take your troth back with your bridal ring,
And thus I join you!
(Takes Isabella's hand, but Angelo refuses his.)
Angelo
(proudly).
The hand you hold were joyfully your own!
Shall I receive a life and fortune from you,
Yet stand 'twixt you and that!
Isabella
(turning from Angelo).
Thou dost not love me!
Tortesa.
I'll brush this new-spun cobweb from his eyes.
(Crosses to Zippa.)
Few wed the one they could have loved the best,
And fewer still wed well for happiness!
We each have lost to-day what best we love.
But as the drops that mingled in the sky,
Are torn apart in the tempestuous sea,
Yet with a new drop tremble into one,
We two, if you're content, may swim together!
What say you?
Zippa
(giving her hand).
When I believed you cold and treacherous.
Tis easy when I know you kind and noble.
Tortesa.
(To Angelo.)
(Turns to the duke.)
Duke.
And if you'll join your marriage feast together
I'll play my part, and give the brides away!
Tortesa.
To give her to him has been all I could;
For I have sought her with the dearest pulses
That quicken in my heart, my love and scorn.
She's taught me that the high-born may be true.
I thank her for it — but, too close on that
Followed the love, whose lightning flash of honor
Brightens, but straight is dark again! My liege,
The poor who leap up to the stars for duty
Must drop to earth again! and here, if't please you,
I take my feet for ever from your palace,
And, matched as best beseems me, say farewell.
(Takes Zippa's hand, and the curtain drops.)
| The complete works of N.P. Willis | |