University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

[An Apartment in the Falcone Palace. Enter Servant, shewing in Zippa.]
SERVANT.
Wait here, if't please you!

ZIPPA.
Thanks! (Exit Servant.)
My heart misgives me!
'Tis a bold errand I am come upon—
And I a stranger to her! Yet, perchance
She needs a friend—the proudest do sometimes—
And mean ones may be welcome. Look! she comes!

ISABELLA.
You wished to speak with me?

ZIPPA.
I did—but now
My memory is crept into my eyes;
I cannot think for gazing on your beauty!
Pardon me, lady!

ISABELLA.
You're too fair yourself
To find my face a wonder. Speak! Who are you?

ZIPPA.
Zippa, the Glover's daughter, and your friend!

ISABELLA.
My friend?

ZIPPA.
I said so. You're a noble lady
And I a low-born maid—yet I have come
To offer you my friendship.

ISABELLA.
This seems strange!

ZIPPA.
I'll make it less so, if you'll give me leave.

ISABELLA.
You'll please me!

ZIPPA.
Briefly—for the time is precious
To me as well as you—I have a lover,
A true one, as I think, who yet finds boldness
To seek your hand in marriage.

ISABELLA.
How? We're rivals!

ZIPPA.
Tortesa loves me, and for that I'd wed him.
Yet I'm not sure I love him more than you—
And you must hate him.

ISABELLA.
So far freely spoken—
What was your thought in coming to me now?

ZIPPA.
To mar your match with him, and so make mine!

ISABELLA.
Why, free again! Yet, as you love him not
'Tis strange you seek to wed him!

ZIPPA.
Oh no, madam!
Woman loves once unthinkingly. The heart
Is born with her first love, and, new to joy,
Breathes to the first wind its delicious sweetness,
But gets none back! So comes its bitter wisdom!
When next we think of love, 'tis who loves us!
I said Tortesa loved me!

ISABELLA.
You shall have him
With all my heart! See—I'm your friend already!
And friends are equals. So approach, and tell me,
What was this first love like, that you discourse
So prettily upon?

ZIPPA,
(aside.)
(Dear Angelo!
'Twill be a happiness to talk of him!)
I loved a youth, kind madam! far beneath
The notice of your eyes, unknown and poor.

ISABELLA.
A handsome youth?

ZIPPA.
Indeed, I thought him so!
But you would not. I loved him out of pity;
No one cared for him.

ISABELLA.
Was he so forlorn?

ZIPPA.
He was our neighbor, and I knew his toil
Was almost profitless; and 'twas a pleasure
To fill my basket from our wasteful table,
And steal, at eve, to sup with him.

ISABELLA,
(smiling.)
Why, that
Was charity, indeed! He loved you for it—
Was't not so?

ZIPPA.
He was like a brother to me—
The kindest brother sister ever had.
I built my hopes upon his gentleness:
He had no other quality to love.
Th'ambitious change—so do the fiery-hearted:
The lowly are more constant.

ISABELLA.
And yet, he
Was, after all, a false one?

ZIPPA.
Nay, dear lady!
I'll check my story there! 'Twould end in anger,
Perhaps in tears. If I am not too bold,
Tell me, in turn, of all your worshippers—
Was there ne'er one that pleased you?

ISABELLA,
(aside.)
(Now could I
Prate to this humble maid of Angelo,
Till matins rang again!) My gentle Zippa!
I have found all men prompt to talk of love,
Save only one. I will confess to you,
For that one could I die! Yet, so unlike
Your faithless lover must I draw his picture,
That you will wonder how such opposites
Could both be loved of women.

ZIPPA.
Was he fair,
Or brown?

ISABELLA.
In truth, I marked not his complexion.

ZIPPA.
Tall?

ISABELLA.
That I know not.

ZIPPA.
Well—robust, or slight?

ISABELLA.
I cannot tell, indeed! I heard him speak—
Looked in his eyes, and saw him calm and angered—
And see him now, in fancy, standing there—
Yet know not limb or feature!

ZIPPA.
You but saw
A shadow, lady!

ISABELLA.
Nay—I saw a soul!
His eyes were light with it. The forehead lay
Above their fires in calm tranquillity,
As the sky sleeps o'er thunder-clouds. His look
Was mixed of these—earnest, and yet subdued—
Gentle, yet passionate—sometimes half god-like
In its command, then mild and sweet again,
Like a stern angel taught humility!
Oh! when he spoke, my heart stole out to him!
There was a spirit-echo in his voice—
A sound of thought—of under-playing music—
As if, before it ceased in human ears,
The echo was caught up in fairy-land!

ZIPPA.
Was he a courtier, madam?

ISABELLA.
He's as lowly
In birth and fortunes, as your false one, Zippa!
Yet rich in genius, and of that ambition,
That he'll outlast nobility with fame.
Have you seen such a man?

ZIPPA.
Alas! sweet lady!
My life is humble, and such wondrous men
Are far above my knowing. I could wish
To see one ere I died!

ISABELLA.
You shall, believe me!
But while we talk of lovers, we forget
In how brief time you are to win a husband.
Come to my chamber, Zippa, and I'll see
How with your little net you'll snare a bird
Fierce as this rude Tortesa!

ZIPPA.
We will find
A way, dear lady, if we die for it!

ISABELLA.
Shall we? Come with me, then!

[Exeunt.