University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

An Apartment in the Ducal Palace.—The Duchess, Ippolita, and Giovanni.
Duch.
Cease then at once, Giovanni, and for ever,
This your ungentle feud. Your brother loves you
At heart,—I'm sure he does, although his pride
And this sad habit of your early years
Restrain his feelings: give but yours free way,
And he'll receive you in wide-open'd arms!

Giov.
Mother, our thoughts, our studies and our sports,
So long have been divided, or oppos'd,
Methinks it scarce can be as you desire,
And I myself could wish.

Duch.
Join then your thoughts;
And teach your brother to regard your studies,
By sharing them!

Giov.
This were an arduous task.

Duch.
Nought is too arduous for an anxious heart.
Begin by joining in some favorite sports;
Range on the same side, win or lose together:
The rest will gently follow.

Ippo.
Pray you, do!
Your noble mother reasons well and kindly:
Why should two generous natures be oppos'd,
Or keep such chilling distance?

Giov.
Fair Ippolita,
I would 'twere otherwise.

Duch.
Then make it so!
Thou art the elder-born, and first shouldst offer
The hand of reconciling brotherhood;
And let me tell thee, son, it ill becomes
The piety which else thy conduct proves,
To live at enmity that might be peace.

Giov.
Madam, I grieve; but what wouldst have me do?
You know his pitch of spirit, and how wayward:
My spirit is more tranquil, but no humbler.

Duch.
Oh! talk not thus; maintaining this wrong cause
Of enmity that knows no origin,—
Such is its age: 'tis time it should be buried.

Giov.
Ah, if it were, the order I'd reverse
Of final service,—praying it ne'er might rise.

Duch.
I thank my Maker for my son's good heart!
All will be well—ye shall be reconcil'd.

Ippo.
Sir, you have bless'd your mother with kind words;
You must not be too slow in the fulfilment.

Duch.
To-morrow—yes, Giovanni, on the morrow,
Join in some pastime with young Garcia;
Say you will hunt with him!

Giov.
Nay, not so soon:
St Etienne's festival intervenes,—its star
E'en now informs each gem o' the Ducal crown.

Duch.
Ye can return in time: were't but an hour,
Yet go, my son!

Ippo.
Do not thus hesitate!
Do not refuse, Giovanni!

Giov.
I will go.

Duch.
Thanks to my son! Your word is pass'd—adieu!
[Exit Duchess.

Giov.
How hastily she's gone!—methinks this promise
Was made unwisely?

Ippo.
Ye can return betimes.

Giov.
Your intercession, dear Ippolita,
Dispers'd my reasoning, and I e'en must go.
But were it only that I thus shall place
A space of earth, an interval of hours,
Between our loves, more than my usual loss,
I fain would break my word.

Ippo.
Speak not of love.
Ah, should I e'er have listen'd to thy vows,
Or to my heart's fond promptings?

Giov.
Wherefore not?
The Duke will sanction it.

Ippo.
It is too much
For thee to promise, and for me to hope!
Have I requited well the generous hand
Of regal Cosmo, who beneath his roof
With fatherly protection thus hath cherish'd
The orphan of a ruin'd nobleman;
That, like a secret serpent at the base
Of an alabaster column, I should twine,
And in a gradual circle rise to mar
The artist's best design with strange intrusion!
Oh! prince of Florence, I have acted ill:
But I will break this matter to the Duchess,
Implore forgiveness, and as she directs
So will I act.

Giov.
Thou griev'st my very soul,
Most dear Ippolita! I pray thee breathe
No word as yet: all may be very well,
But I have reasons for a brief delay.
(Aside.)
My heart misgives me of my father's purpose,
And much I dread to question—yet I must.
(Aloud.)
Meantime, sweet love, I'll join this idle hunt
With Garcia in the woods;—look not so sad!

Ippo.
I'm glad to hear thou'lt do so.

Giov.
Let me kiss
That slow tear lingering down thy pallid cheek:
There is no error in our mutual love.

[Kisses her. Exeunt.