University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Room in Roberto's House.
Roberto, alone.
Rob.
The virtue of a girl is modesty,
Which were in men pale cowardice. To know
One's fitness for high places; then, to prove
The knowledge by bold deed, is, to fulfil
Nature's robust decree. Faint-hearted fools,
None others, snub their opportunities.
Fortune bears malice: she forgives not those,
But whips with hate, who slight her coy advances.
This will not I; but through her sudden love
Wed me to greatness and its lofty joys.
The top place 'mong the haughty few I'll win;
The many's shout shall peal for my proud ear;
Where'er I move shall glare the signs of homage—
The deferential pause of passers-by,
The lifted bonnet and obedient bow;
My every word with wisdom shall be freighted
By yielded wills and bribed imaginations:
The chair of state, the seat of dignity,
There will I sit, circled with regal light,
The focus high of a hushed crowd submissive,
Agape to kiss the fiat of authority.
Enter Berto.
How now, Berto, what hast thou learnt?

Berto.

Signor, when a man goes into the street, and that in a city so learned as Florence, if when he comes home he can tell what he has learnt, he is too wise for the fellows, and is company fit only for himself.

Rob.

Berto, thou art no licensed jester; take not his liberties so often. No more foolery. Whom hast thou seen? what didst thou hear about the election?

Berto.

I saw Bartolomeo, the vintner; I saw Adolpho, the wool-dealer; I saw Biagio, the glovier; I saw Lattanzio, the shoemaker; I saw Nicolini, the armeror; I saw—

Rob.

All good men; how will they vote?

Berto.

Every man of them against your honor. Of all I spoke with I found but one citizen for you.

Rob.

Who was he?

Berto.

Floriano, the half-starved baker.

Rob.

I know Floriano; he's shrewd though poor. Berto, in choice of official men, the honest poor are cleaner in their preferences, higher in their judgments, than the prosperous burghers. The partialities of fat citizens are apt to be poisoned by self-seeking.

Berto.

Judge, signor, of Floriano's judgment: when I

told him of the duke, he swore, he'd rather live on his own crusts than vote for a friend of Fernando.

Rob.

Knave, thou consortest but with knaves. These rascals are all bought by Soderini.

Berto.

It may be. Have you heard, signor, the good news about the duke?

Rob.

Ha! no: what is it?

Berto.

They say, that digging a well—the duke is one of the thirstiest of mortals—digging a well in his garden— your honor knows this garden, near the Roman gate, close upon the studio of—

Rob.

Ay, ay; the news, the good news.

Berto.

The diggers had got but little below the surface, when they struck upon a gold vein. The duke being fond of old things, to make good the old adage—“easy come, easy go,”—throws the gold among the voters by handfuls, as though there were no more virtue in it than in holy water.

Rob.
[Half to himself.]

Saucy varlet.

Enter an Attendant.
Atten.

The Abbé Ignazio.

Berto.
[Aside.]

Now for sweet words from bitter breast. Good-by to truth where abbés are welcome. This reverend tongue is a sponge to wipe out good and drop malice. Here's one of the tigers that set the mob on the brave Savonarola. Rather than not hate him I'd forego my prayers.

Enter the Abbé.
Rob.
Signor, I'm proud to have you cross my threshold.

Ign.
For me, Signor Roberto, proud am I
That such occasions bring me. From our friend,
The duke, I come, the bearer—who is this?

Rob.
Only my major-domo. Speak your mind.

Ign.
I come the happy bearer of good tidings.
Your cause—the cause of all true Florentines—
I am no wordy flatterer, signor,—
Your cause, linked to the best men's hopes and wants,
Wears the fresh look of healthy expectation,
Your many friends make many friends, and these
Breeding so fast, each day counts new recruits.

Rob.
Berto, thou hear'st; thy bakers, gloviers, vintners,—

Berto.
Are not among the new recruits.

Ign.
They are not.
We need them not: of less account are these
Than in the old rude times, ere men were sifted
By the great Medici. Thanks to their rule,
The common herd, in losing half their power,
Have lost some of their insolence, and are,
Like hungry beasts, tamer to those that feed them.

Berto.
[Aside.]
There he means every word that he says

Ign.
Fear not for our success. The duke is hoarse
With speaking for you, and the holy church
Is on your side. Pope Borgia, our strong chief,
Who ne'er forsook his friends—

Berto.
[Aside.]
No: he never had any but priests.

Ign.
Has sent a legate
To personate his will in this election.
Events to be, show often with such bulk,
They tax the sense like present certainties.
Such, signor, is the lifting of yourself
To the great station of command in Florence.
There I behold you with so certain eyes,
That thus I in advance pay you my homage.

[Kisses Roberto's hand.
Rob.
Oh! reverend sir, you do me too much honor,
I'm dumb with diffidence. When I am great,
With acts I'll thank you then becomingly.

Ign.
Signor, I'm honored by your confidence.
'T is a proud day when I can help to bind
Such men together as the duke and you.
He burns to be saluted as your son.
To the Ladies Leonora and Cecilia
I'll do my service at the duke's to-night.
Signor, I take my leave.

[Exeunt severally.
Enter Ernesto, by the way Ignazio went out.
Ern.
Was it not Ignazio whom I met going out?

Berto.
Ay: dost thou smell carrion?

Ern.
What mean'st thou?

Berto.

The vulture has been feasting: the carcass is my poor master. Signor, the duke seeks to hasten the marriage, lest, by failure of the election, it be balked.

Ern.

Didst thou hear what passed?

Berto.

I was present. The abbé told Roberto one thing and me another.

Ern.

How was that?

Berto.

He told lies; the which my master took for truths, and I for what they were. To make brass seem gold and sour sweet, no alchymist like one of Rome's most trusted priests. Signor Ernesto, I have learned something; something I thought I knew. I only knew it by halves.

Ern.

What is that?

Berto.

The unmeasurable, the unfathomable, the unimaginable virtue—

Ern.

Of what in Heaven's name?

Berto.

Of impudence. All the lessons in the big book of our neighbor Machiavelli are covered by that one word.

Ern.

And your master's degree in this province of learning you have from Ignazio. Now for our plot. I must see Leonora. To Filippo I have divulged my knowledge of his secret; he rejoices to have us for allies. Berto, go ask Leonora to give me a few moments. [Exit Berto.]
Frankness will do more with her than art: she herself is truthful. But she's giddy; yet 't will be safest to make her a full confidence.

Re-Enter Berto.
Berto.

Signor, the lady Leonora awaits you.

[Exeunt.