University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

[Opens, and discovers a spacious court in the palace of the prince Montalva, splendidly decorated for a tournament. Various spectators seated on rising benches; on one side a canopy, beneath which are seated, Honoria, (attended by Agnes) the prince Montalva (with Albert standing near him) and the Marquis Valmont.
On the opposite side of the stage stand three knights in armour, each wearing a scarf and helmet of the same colour as the standard borne by his page, who waits near him: Alferenzi stands at some distance, nearer the wing than the other knights, with his page also.
1st. Yellow, with a burning mountain. 2nd. Green, with a wreath of flowers and fruits. 3rd. Composed of silver waves, plain.
White, with the motto, Virtue is Nobility. His scarf white with gold fringe. As the curtain rises to soft music, children strew flowers and laurels. Then follow warlike trophies to martial music. When the stage is arranged, Albert descends from the steps of the throne, and approaches the armed knights.]
Albert
(to the first.)
If that my senses do not play me false,
Or my eyes dazzle with your noble bearings,
Methinks I read, beneath these quaint devices,
Illustrious names! This flaming standard,
Emblem of Etna's brow, that scorches Heav'n!
This crest of gold, that like a meteor burns,
Mocking the noon's fierce fires! do give thee out
Messina's Prince, illustrious Belmonti!

The Prince bows acknowledgment.
Albert
(to the second.)
This verdant ensign, this enamell'd wreath
(Tinted with rainbow dyes) which seems to grow,
And, while its perfume scents the unseen air,
Blushes with modest grace! I well devise
Sprang from the 'witching garden of the world,
Luxurious Italy! and therefore greet
Verona's noble Duke, the brave Lorenzi!

[The Duke bows acknowledgment.
Albert
(to the third.)
This silv'ry banner, that doth like the waves
Play in fantastic gambols with the air,
Dancing light-blossom'd in the sunny beam,
Bespeaks the Adriatic! Beauteous sea!
That doth encompass Venice with a zone
Bright as the morning sun! Thou dost declare
The offspring of Bellarmo, Duke of Venice.

[The Duke bows acknowledgment.
Albert
(approaching Alferenzi.)
Now, gallant stranger, let me ask, nor think
I mean uncourteously to mock your fancy,
Why thus conceal'd you enter in the lists?
What are your rights armorial?

[Alferenzi points to his standard.
Albert.
'Tis not enough
That innate lustre beams about your soul!
What are your claims to mingle in the contest?

Alferenzi.
Those claims that place the good above the proud!
The stream that rushes thro' these ardent veins
Flows from a source that never knew pollution!
Though sprung, brave Albert, from a sire whose arm
Has made the enemies of virtue tremble,
I scorn to shield me with another's name,
And only boast the honours I achieve.

Albert.
Most nobly urged! What is your passport here?

Alferenzi.
Nor gold, nor gems, nor purchas'd adulation,
Nor vap'rish vaunting, nor the breath of fools!
Nor flatt'ry's airy fame that bubbles down
The broad stream of the world, and bursts at last
In blank oblivion!

Albert.
High-sounding words
Beguile with magic power the sense they seize,
And cheat it into faith. But ere your name
Shines on the list of valour, of your worth
'Tis fit you give some sample.

Alferenzi.
Take my scorn! [Throwing his gauntlet.

Thus do I hurl my gauntlet at your feet
And mock your scrutiny; the hand it owns
Has neither palm'd with fools, nor let the base
Its blood contaminate! what would you more?

Albert.
If that thy soul be lofty as thy speech,
Thou art indeed right noble! I shall expect
That thou wilt give me proof without delay.

Alferenzi.
I do not fear; my lance will do that for me.

[The onset begins; Alferenzi stands more forward than the rest on the stage. Albert vanquishes Belmonti.]
Alferenzi
(aside.)
So falls the vaunting self-enamour'd fool!
The flame that soars too high evaporates,
And wastes in empty nothing!

[Albert disarms Lorenzi.
Alferenzi
(aside.)
Honours full blown, like summer flow'rs, decay!
I thought thy emblem was too fair to last!

[Albert vanquishes Bellarmo.
Alferenzi
(aside.)
So the swift storm scowls o'er the sunny spheres;
Brave offspring of the proud and silv'ry main,
Thou see'st that fame is fickle as the waves!

[Albert advances and gazes at Alferenzi.
Albert.
Now, haughty stranger, I will prove thy lance;
And either dim it with dishonour's stain,
Or sink beneath thy scorn!

[They fight; after a fierce onset, Alferenzi disarms Albert, and instantly kneeling, presents his scarf to Honoria, while the curtain falls to martial music.]