University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

—The Palace of the King of Naples.
The King, Spalatro, and ten Courtiers, two Banners, and six Guards, discovered.
King.
Didst say the Marquis of Colonna prays
Admission to our presence?

Spal.
Aye, my liege,
He stands in the anti-chamber, with a brow
As stern as e'er was knitted in the folds
Of ranc'rous discontent.

King.
I have noted oft
(Comes forward.)
His absence from the court, the which I deem
His envy of our true Ludovico.

Spal.
Deem it no little benefit, my liege;
His deep and murky smile, his gather'd arms,
In whose close pride he folds himself—his raw
And pithy apothegms of scorn have made him
Our laughter and our hatred; we are all
Grown weary of this new Diogenes,
Who rolls his hard and new philosophy
Against all innocent usage of the court.

King.
We must not bid him hence—he has a sister—

Spal.
The fair Evadne!—

King.
Fairer than the morn;
Who has not seen her, knows of beauty less
Than blind men of Aurora. For her sake
We give him ample scope, and we are glad
He comes to visit us.

Col.
(Without, L. H.)
I'll hear no more.
Colonna does not often importune
With his unwelcome presence. Let me pass—
For once I must be heard.
Enter Two Courtiers and Colonna, L. H.
My liege!—

1st Court.
Hold back!
What right hast thou to rush before the sight
Of sacred royalty?

Col.
The right that all
Good subjects ought to have—to do him service.
My liege— (Courtiers retire L. H. and Spalatro crosses behind to R. H.)


King.
You are welcome—
And would you had brought your lovely sister too.

Col.
My sister, did you say? My sister, sir?
She is not fit for courts; she would be called
(For she has something left of nature still)
A simple creature here;
She is not fit for courts, and I have hope
She never will: but let it pass—I come
To implore a favour of you.

King.
Whatsoe'er
Colonna prays, sure cannot be refus'd.

Col.
The favour that I ask is one, my liege,
That princes often find it hard to grant.
'Tis simply this—that you will hear the truth.

King.
Proceed, and play the monitor, my lord.

Col.
I see your courtiers here do stand amazed.
Of them I first would speak—There is not one
Of this wide troop of glittering parasites,
That circle you, but in soul
Is your base foe. These smilers here, my liege,—
These sweet melodious flatterers, my liege,—
That flourish on the flexibility
Of their soft countenances,—are the vermin
That haunt a prince's ear with the false buzz
Of villanous assentation.—These are they
Who from your mind have flouted every thought
Of the great weal of the people. These are they
Who from your ears have shut the public cry,
And with the poisoned gales of flattery
Create around you a foul atmosphere
Of unresounding denseness, thro' the which
Their loud complaints cannot reverberate,
And perish ere they reach you.

King.
Who complains,—
Who dares complain of us?

Col.
All dare complain
Behind you—I before you. Do not think
Because you load your people with the weight
Of camels, they possess the camel's patience.
A deep groan labours in the nation's heart:
The very calm and stillness of the day
Gives augury of the earthquake. All without
Is as the marble smooth, and all within
Is rotten as the carcase it contains;
Tho' ruin knock not at the palace-gate,
Yet will the palace-gate unfold itself
To ruin's felt-shod tread.

King.
(Aside.)
Insolent villain!

Col.
Your gorgeous banquets—your luxuries—your pomps,
Your palaces, and all the sumptuousness
Of painted royalty will melt away,
As in a theatre the glittering scene
Doth vanish with the shifter's magic hand,
And the mock pageant perishes. My liege,
A single virtuous action hath more worth
Than all the pyramids, and glory writes
A more enduring epitaph upon
One generous deed, than the sarcophagus
In which Sesostris meant to sleep.

Spal.
(Coming forward.)
Forbear!
It is a subject's duty to arrest
Thy rash and blasphemous speech.

King.
Let him speak on—
The monarch who can listen to Colonna,
Is not the worthless tyrant he would make me.

(Spalatro retires.)
Col.
I deem not you that tyrant—if I did—
No!—Nature framing you, did kindly mean,
And o'er your heart hath sprinkled many drops
Of her best charities. But you are led
From virtue and from wisdom far away,
By men whose every look's a lie—whose hearts
Are a large heap of cankers, and of whom
The chief is a rank traitor!

King.
Traitor! whom meanest thou?

Col.
Your favourite, your minister, my liege.
That smooth-faced hypocrite—that—

King.
Here he comes!

Col.
It is the traitor's self—I am glad of it,
That to his face I may confront.—

Enter Ludovico, R. H.—he advances rapidly to the king.
Lud.
My liege,
I hasten to your presence, to inform you—
Colonna here!

(Starting.)
Col.
The same—Colonna's here!
And if you wish to learn his theme of speech,
Learn that he spoke of treason and of you.

Lud.
Did I not stand before the hallowed eye
Of majesty, I would teach thee with my sword
How to reform thy phrase—But I am now
In my king's presence, and with awe-struck soul,
As if within religion's peaceful shrine,
Humbly I bend before him. What, my liege,
Hath this professor of austerity,
And practiser of slander, uttered
Against your servant's honour?

King.
He hath called you—

Col.
A traitor! and I warn you to beware
Of the false viper nurtured in your heart.
He has filled the city with a band of men,
By fell allegiance sworn unto himself.
There are a thousand ruffians at his word
Prepared to cut our throats. The city swarms
With murderers' faces, and tho' treason now
Moves like a muffled dwarf, 'twill speedily
Swell to a blood-robed giant!—If my liege,
What I have said doth not unfilm your eye,
'Twere vain to tell you more.
I have said, my liege,
And tried to interrupt security
Upon her purple cushion—he, perhaps,
Will find some drowsy syrup to lay down
Her opening eye-lids into sleep again,
And call back slumber with a lullaby
Of sweetest adulation.—Fare you well!

Lud.
Hold back!

Col.
Not for your summons, my good lord
The courtly air doth not agree with me,
And I respire it painfully. My lord,
Hear my last words—Beware, Ludovico!

Lud.
Villain, come back!

Col.
I wear a sword, my lord.

[Exit, L. H.
Lud.
He flies before me—and the sight of him
He dares accuse, came like the morning sun
On the night-walking enemy of mankind,
That shrinks before the day-light—yes, he fled,
And I would straight pursue him, and send back,
On my sword's point, his falsehoods to his heart—
But that I here before the assembled court
Would vindicate myself—a traitor!—who
In any action of Ludovico
Finds echo to that word?

King.
I cannot think
Thou hast repaid me with ingratitude.

Lud.
I do not love to make a boisterous boast
Of my past services, and marshal forth
In glittering array the benefit
That I have done my sovereign—what I did
Was but my duty. Yet would I inquire
If he who has fought your battles, and hath made
A very thrall of victory—who oft
Has back to Naples from the field of fight,
Led your triumphant armies,—
He whose hand
Hath lined the oppressive diadem with down,
And ta'en its pressure from the golden round—
If he whose cheek hath at the midnight lamp
Grown pale with study of his prince's weal
Is like to be a traitor?—who, my liege,
Hath often like the daylight's god transpierced
The hydra-headed monster of rebellion,
And streched it bleeding at your feet? who oft
Hath from the infuriate people exorcised
The talking dæmon, “liberty,” and choaked
The voice of clamorous demagogues?—I dare
To tell you 'twas Ludovico!

King.
It was.

Lud.
Who calls me traitor? He whose breath doth taint
Whate'er it blows upon—he—
But ask yourself, my lord, if I be mad?
For were I that, that he would make Ludovico,
The cells of frenzy, not the scaffold's plank,
Would best beseem my treason. In your love
My fortunes grow and flourish unto heaven;
And I should win by treason but the load
Of the world's execration, while the fierce
And ravenous vulture of remorse would tear
The vitals of my soul, and make my heart
Its black immortal banquet! I a traitor!
At first, I only meant to scorn. But now,
The bursting passion hath o'ermastered me,
And my voice choaks in anguish! Oh, my liege,
Your giving audience to this rancourous man,
Who envies me the greatness of your smile,
Hath done me wrong, and stabs me thro' and thro'.
A traitor!—your Ludovico!

King.
My lord.

Lud.
(Kneels.)
Here is my heart! If you have any mercy,
Strike thro' that heart, and as the blood flows forth,
Drown your suspicions in the purple stream.

King.
Arise, Ludovico, and do not think
I have harboured in my breast a single thought
That could dishonour thee.

(Raises and embraces him.)
Lud.
My royal master!
The power of gratitude mounts from my heart,
And rushes to mine eyes, that are too apt
To play the woman with me. See, they are falling—
Oh! let them not profane your sacred cheek,
But bathe my prince's feet.

King.
Ludovico,
We have wrong'd thee, not by doubt,
But by our sufferance of Colonna's daring—
Whom from my sight into the dungeon's depth
I had flung, but that I hope—Let us apart—
(Draws Ludovico aside in front, L. H.)
But that I hope, Ludovico, that yet
I may possess me of his sister's charms.

Lud.
There you have struck upon the inmost spring
Of all Colonna's hate; for in obedience
To your high will, I humbly made myself
Your pleasure's minister, and to her ear
I bore your proffered love, which he discovering
Hath tried to root me from my prince's heart—

King.
Where thou shalt ever flourish! But, Ludovico,
But thou hast told her!—Is there hope, my friend?

Lud.
She shall be yours—nay, more—and well you know
That you may trust your servant—not alone
Colonna's lovely sister shall be yours:
But, mark my speech, Colonna's self shall draw
The chaste white curtains from her virgin-bed,
And lead you to her arms!

King.
What! her fierce brother
Yield his consent?

Lud.
Inquire not how, my liege,
I would accomplish this—trust to my pledge—
This very night.

King.
To-night! Am I so near
To heaven, Ludovico?

Lud.
You are, my liege,
To-night upon the breast of paradise
You shall most soundly sleep.

(Aside.)
King.
My faithful friend!
And dost thou say, Colonna will himself—?

Lud.
Colonna's self shall bear her to your arms,
And bid her on to dalliance.

King.
Oh, my friend,
Thou art the truest servant that e'er yet
Tended his sovereign's wish: but dost not fear,
Her purposed marriage with Vicentio
May make some obstacle?

Lud.
I have recalled him
From Florence, whither as ambassador,
In honourable exile he was sent.

King.
Recalled him! 'Twas to interrupt his love
That he was sent.

Lud.
My projects need his coming.
For I intend to make Vicentio
An instrument to crown you with her charms!

King.
How shall I bless thee, my Ludovico?
Dost thou think
'Tis strange I pine for her—but why inquire
Of thee, who once wert kindled by her charms.

Lud.
My liege!

(A little disturbed.)
King.
She did prefer Vicentio.

Lud.
She shall prefer you to Vicentio.

King.
My dear Ludovico, within my soul
More closely will I wear thee!—
Tell her we'll shower all honour on her head.
And here, Ludovico, to testify
That we have given ourselves, bear to her heart
This image of her king!

Lud.
I am in all your servant.

King.
My Ludovico,
We never can reward thee! Come, my friends,
(Crosses to R. H.)
Let's to some fresh-imagined sport, and wile
The languid hours in some device of joy,
To help along the lazy flight of time,
And quicken him with pleasure. My Ludovico!
Remember!

[Exeunt King and ten of the Courtiers, R. H. Banners and Guards, R. H. U. E.; Spalatro, and four other Conspirators remain behind with Ludovico.
Lud.
He is gone,
And my unloosened spirit dares again
To heave within my bosom!—Oh, Colonna,
With an usurious vengeance I'll repay thee,
And cure the talking devil in thy tongue!
(To Spalatro.)
—Give me thy hand, and let thy pulse again
Beat with a temperate and healthful motion,
Of full security. We are safe, my friends,
And in the genius of Ludovico,
An enterprise shall triumph.

Spal.
We began to tremble when you entered—but full soon
With admiration we beheld you tread
Secure the steeps of ruin, and preserve us.

Lud.
That damn'd Colonna!—by the glorious star
Of my nativity, I do not burn
For empire, with a more infuriate thirst,
Than for revenge!

Spal.
My poniard's at your service.

(First and Second Conspirators half draw their daggers.)
Lud.
Not for the world, my friends!
I'll turn my vengeance to utility,
And must economize my hate—Whom think you
Have I marked out assassin of the king?

Spal.
Piero, perchance—he strikes the poniard deep.

Lud.
A better hand at it.

Spal.
Bartolo, then—
He pushes the stiletto to the heart.

Lud.
No!

Spal.
Then yourself will undertake the deed.

Lud.
That were against all wisdom—No, my friends,
Colonna—

Spal.
What, Colonna?—he that now
Accused you here?

Lud.
Colonna!—

Spal.
'Tis impossible!—
From his great father he inherited
A sort of passion in his loyalty:
In him it mounts to folly.

Lud.
Yet Spalatro,
I'll make a murderer of him—know you not
He has a sister?

Spal.
Yes, the fair Evadne,
You once did love yourself.

Lud.
There thou hast touched me.
And I am weak enough to love her yet,
If that indeed be love that doth consume me;
It is a sort of monster in my heart,
Made up of horrid contrarieties!
She scorns me for that smooth Vicentio—
Not only does he thwart me in my love,
But, well I know his influence in the state
Would, when the king is sent to paradise,
Be cast between me and the throne—he dies!—
Colonna too shall perish, and the crown
Shall with Evadne's love be mine.
Enter Officer, L. H.
How now?

Officer.
My lord, the lady Olivia
Waits on your highness.

Lud.
I desired her here,
And straight I will attend her.
[Exit Officer, L. H.
With a straw
A town may be consumed, and I employ
This woman's passion for Vicentio,
As I would use a poison'd pin, to kill.

Spal.
She long hath lov'd Vicentio.

Lud.
He shall wed her—
And from the hand of Hymen, death shall snatch
The nuptial torch, and use it for his own!
I haste me to her presence.
(Takes out the King's picture.)
Come! fair bauble,
Thou now must be employed.— (To Spal.)
—Dost thou not think,
Even in this image, that he bears the soft
And wanton aspect with the which he bid me
To cater for his villanous appetite—
And with what luxury?—Evadne's charms!—
Evadne that I love?—

Spal.
But, didst thou not
Thyself evoke that passion in his breast?

Lud.
I did, 'tis true—but for mine own success.
I hate him!—
There is the very face with which he first
Pour'd his unholy wishes in mine ear—
Ha! dost thou smile upon me?—I will turn
Those glittering eyes, where love doth now inhabit,
To two dark hollow palaces, for death
To keep his mouldering state in.
He dares to hope that I will make myself
The wretched officer of his desires,
And smooth the bed for his lascivious pleasures—
But I full soon will teach his royalty,
The beds I make are lasting ones, and lie
In the dark chambers of eternity!

[Exeunt, L. H.