University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Ducal Library.—Cosmo seated with a poor Scholar, who has been reading from a manuscript.
Cosmo
(rising.)
I am well satisfied: thou'st writ a work,
Fit chronicle of Asian conquerors.
What gifts and fair dominions had been thine
In those barbaric days—munificent,
And oft as dangerous—were hard to tell;
But since on me devolves the grateful duty
Of worth's reward, here is the best dominion
Which I can offer thee:—behold thy subjects!

[He points to the library.
Scho.
It is a more than princely favour: it gives
My heart a principality.

Cosmo.
I'm glad of't.
But tell me, in thy course through those dark times,
Where certitude of mightiest things oft hangs
By one poor thread, hast thou not sometimes pampered
Lean facts—that trembled mid-deep in the grave—
Thus, with imagination, vivified?

Scho.
Not more, my liege, than hath Herodotus,
Strabo in's later books, the elder Pliny,
And all who've sought the unravelling of the past!
Nor should we e'er conceal the principle,
Since barren facts ne'er raised the moral world;
And history would be earthy were it not
For spiritual deductions. But where facts
Could be authenticated, I have ever
Given faithful record, and fair inference,
Rearing a superstructure on just grounds.

Cosmo.
Thou tak'st a high position; bold, yet good.
Read me once more the passage that describes
Sesostris' death.

Scho.
Your Highness, it runs thus:—
(Reads)

—Not only was Sesostris worthy of being called
the Mighty, in that his chariot rolled with intolerable
power, like unto a second sun, over the vast tracts of
Lybia and Ethiopia; in that he made the conquered
Arabs uplift his name to a superstitious height, enthroned
beside their ancient adorations; in that he made tributary
the islands of the Red Sea, shaking the far-reaching
lightning of his spears over the whole subjugated splendour
of the East. Great as were the warlike deeds thus
attributed to him, which seem at times to have dazzled
his historians—wanting a high severity of mind—into
glorious allegories and fables, where the extreme of admiration
ends in smiles; Sesostris is worthy of a more
imperishable fame. In this barbaric age he dealt mercifully
with the fallen nations; in this barbaric age he
ever strove to advance the noblest arts and sciences, and
the progress of humane philosophy.

Cosmo.

I like thine estimate of fame: proceed!

Scho.

But now Sesostris approached the last degree
of that orbit which endureth no second revolution of its
body. After so many nations conquered; so many potent

Kings made subjects of his sceptre; so many cities and
temples erected; and the periodical exuberance of Nilus
checked, mastered, and applied according to his designs;
Sesostris found himself in the presence of Old Age!
Pain was opposed to infirmity; diseases environed, and
his faculties deserted him; he would have looked abroad
for comfort and relief, but he had become blind. His
children began to conspire for his throne; his friends fled
from his bed-side to feast with them; his bodily existence
became burdensome, loathsome, and a mere sea-cave of
misery for the wreck of his mind; and with his last
energy in both, he therefore destroyed himself.

Cosmo.
Thou read'st a fearful moral to great kings.
But doth his end detract Sesostris' fame?

Scho.
With deference to your Highness, I think not.
All that had made him great was gone: moreover,
Assassination might have cut him off.

Cosmo.
We will discuss this question at our leisure.

Scho.
I hold myself your Highness' grateful debtor.

[Exit Scholar.
Cosmo.
If princes reason'd deeply on this life,
Its cloud-like changes and sharp accidents,
Subject as worms before the crown-pav'd paths
Where Fate with iron foot-step blind-fold strides;
Or seeing, joys to crush our misplac'd pride:
If we but measur'd glory's transient life
With the death-chamber where all earth-born power
Struggles for moments, as the breaking chain
Swings o'er Eternity; should we not haste
Our course to mend, nor dare to govern ill?
I've made my crown despotic,—was that right?
The old republic close collected now,
A ball within my hand—but thus, alone
Of all the states, from France and Spain preserv'd!
Severe the means; the end must justify,
And spread enlarged, usurious recompense.
Since I hold rule, I must first rule myself:
Sternly I've done it—sternly will hold on;
Nor passion's self shall shake my balanc'd soul,
Thus with strong heart-felt justice counterpois'd.

Enter an Officer.
Offi.
I bring despatches for your Highness.

Cosmo.
Whence?

Offi.
Straight from the coast.

Cosmo.
Have my directions prov'd
Effective, in dispersion of the corsairs?

Offi.
My liege, not yet; but we have trac'd their chief
Up to the city.

Cosmo.
Is he then in Florence?

Offi.
He is, your Highness.

Cosmo.
'Tis some daring plan.
I thank you:—stay, sir—we have met before?

Offi.
In the Siennese wars, so please your Highness,
A small troop I commanded.

Cosmo.
Ay, and bravely!
Your merit, sir, has too long been o'erlook'd:
Accept promotion as apology,
For I have wrong'd you much.

Offi.
Your Highness' pardon:
I did not doubt your favour at fit time,
Believing I deserv'd it.

Cosmo.
Speed you well, sir.
[Exit Officer.
Now must Giovanni hasten from our court,
Soon as St Etienne's festival is o'er,
And seek the favour of the Pope in Rome,
Who in such estimation holds our name
He feigns himself a kinsman o' the Medici:
Thence to Segovia, where King Philip now
Dreams in his flower-crown'd villa. Soon my son
Will, by his talents, and his manners, fram'd
Of such sweet seriousness, his bland discourse,
And sterling worth, their best regard obtain:
Then, with those powerful friends our suit to aid,
With fitting retinue, as prince of Florence,
Unto the Emperor shall he speed to woo
His youngest daughter's hand. Where is Giovanni?
I do remember me: the Duchess' plan
To reconcile the boys, and set at rest
Their causeless variance, ere Giovanni leave
The city, is a wise and motherly thought;
Else might the canker into manhood eat
And rot affection's natural designs.

[He seats himself, with a book.