University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Street.—Enter Garcia and Luigi del Passato.
Pass.
Then, there's the tomb of the Assyrian King,
Where couchant sphynxes stare on vacancy
'Neath the broad shadows of white mulberry trees
That, in a double range, converge in front.
It is a level mass of solid stone—
Traced o'er with hieroglyphics and strange forms—
Whereon the fabric of an ancient god,
Grown blind with gazing on eternity,
Sits in the gap of unprogressive time,
And seems an Exile from remoter worlds!

Gar.
These are too far remov'd for sympathies—
Such as I fain would feel.

Pass.
Say not, too far:
He who died yesterday is full as old,
In his new state, as Cheops and King Nine.

Gar.
(aside).
Oh brother! art thou, then, so grey in death
Already!

Pass.
'Tis a lovely monument
Where Livy sleeps in Padua. I have oft
Sat for whole days beside it, and have smiled
To see the figures slowly change their gold—
Grow bronzy—white—and then, o'ermass'd with shade.

Gar.
Why should'st thou smile because it held a stranger,
For whom, if thou had'st known him, tears had flow'd?

Pass.
Mine eyes are wet for no man: but when years
Are pass'd, and mourners have forgotten love,
The tears o' the mind congeal, and with slow hand,
That's sensitive with memory in each touch,
I shape them to a marble bust, and place it
In some sequester'd place where no one comes—
Unless to pray.

Gar.
Oh! that in such a place
I had the bust of one who is no more,
That I might ease my soul to it, in prayer!

Pass.
(aside).
Some heavy loss is figur'd in his heart;
I do but grieve him by this conversation
Which he did seek so earnestly: I'll leave him.

[Exit Passato.
Gar.
Gone!—he can rove, and with a steady mind,
No matter where: but I—where can I go?
Existence is become a sleepless fiend
Within, and on the surface of my flesh.
Despite the efforts of my will, I feel
My face is written over with the worst,
Although a lie to reason. Rise, my soul!
There's work to do i' the forest. I must go.
To-night, Giovanni, while the trembling stars,
With the cold visage of the awful moon,
Gaze down upon me, lighting up that cheek
On which I dare not look—thou shalt be buried!

[Retires.
Enter Zacheo.
Zach.

'Twas meet that I, being chief o' the band,
should make some daring effort, as a last chance to save
us from immediate destruction; and, unless I be much
deceived, my courage and cunning are well trimmed in
a fair wind. From the close observation I have since
taken of the dead body in the forest, while he who
watched it was asleep, I do assuredly believe 'tis one of
the Duke's sons; for they were hunting there, and I
hear that the youngest only is returned. Methinks I
descry a plan whereby I can turn this death to bright
advantage. What pale boy-noble is that? By our
Prophet! the very youth who fought with the Prince
in the forest! How much trouble doth good fortune
save us. (Garcia advances.)
So, my lord! you are
come back?

Gar.
What says the friar?

Zach.
I say, you are come back?

Gar.
Come back?

Zach.
Yes; from the forest.

Gar.
Forest!

Zach.
Where you went hunting with the Duke's son. Come,
Do not attempt to fool with me, young man!

Gar.
With thee, rude-throated monk, dost thou not know me?

Zach.
Not I—
How should I?—who are you, forsooth?

Gar.
Don Garcia, second Prince of Florence.

Zach.
(aside).
Wheu!
What shall I make of this?—'tis a new land,
Where harvests grow in horror. Allah be praised!

Gar.
And what art thou, for sure thou art no friar?

Zach.
Not I; I hate the race!

Gar.
What art thou, then?

Zach.
I do not greatly care if I do trust you,
Knowing you'll not betray me. I am Zacheo,
Chief of the Turkish Pirates.

Gar.
Art thou mad,
If thou be'st he, thus to proclaim thyself
To one who should arrest thee for thy head?

Zach.
My head is safe—ay, safer in the city
Than some heads are in forests.

Gar.
Fly! escape!
Fly while thou may'st!

Zach.
And why dost thou not fly?

Gar.
Who! who?

Zach.
Come, come—thou know'st well what I mean?

Gar.
What mean'st thou!

Zach.
I did see you in the forest
Murder your brother!

Gar.
Liar! monster! liar!

[Rushes upon Zacheo, who shakes him off.
Zach.
Off, younker!—off,—why, I did see you do it.

Gar.
Saw me! saw what?—ah! then thou saw'st it all?
Thou saw'st his provocation—his attack—
Thou saw'st us fighting fairly, hand to hand?

Zach.
(aside).
I'll not be caught! He'd have me for a witness.
No, no.

Gar.
You saw it all?

Zach.
I saw you kill him:
I saw that!

Gar.
You first saw him draw upon me—
And then we fought?

Zach.
Fought! I saw nought of that.
One thing I only know—you kill'd him!

Gar.
Oh!
Despair is deepen'd—hope's last flash is spent!

Zach.
(aside)
Now must I trap him: none shall know the secret—
Thus can I hold it like a storm-cloud o'er him.
I will take means to have him seiz'd, and borne
Straight to the coast—as hostage will I keep him,
And with the Duke make terms—and with him too,
When he is Duke!

Gar.
Will gold assist me, Pirate,
To rivet silence?

Zach.
Ay, a little gold.
'Twill solder down the lid upon this secret:
But to make sure, we'd better bury him?

Gar.
Bury him!—bury him—to be sure—that's right!
We'll do't at once—immediate—'tis exactly
What I have thought of ever since—all day—
All day and night—this night we'll bury him!

Zach.
(aside)
He springs into my net. (Aloud)
We will—we will.

Gar.
Thou art a most discreet and proper person
For such an office—I discern it plainly—
Such things I am not used to—thou'rt the man:
Go—go alone—and bury him to-night!

Zach.
Alone!—no, no—I cannot do it alone:
You must go with me?

Gar.
Gold—take gold instead?

Zach.
And buy a helpmate, who may recognize
Whom 'tis we bury, and betray—

Gar.
I'll go:
I must go with thee.

Zach.
Some one comes this way—
A dolphin of the court, wavering in gold.

Gar.
Where shall we meet?

Zach.
The outskirts of the forest.

[Exit Garcia, hastily.
Enter Cornelio.
Cor.
Prince Garcia with a friar!
He rush'd in haste away—'twas not confession:
Such converse and such flight are all unlike
His nature! The absence of the Prince Giovanni
Confounds us—and dark rumours plague the air—
But where's Dalmasso?

Zach.
(aside).
Seven of my band
Are in the city—two will be enough.

[Going.
Cor.
A word, good friar!

Zach.
Rich blessings on my lord!

Cor.
Hast had long conference with Prince Garcia?

Zach.
Garcia?—who's he?—I am a stranger here.

Cor.
Was't not Don Garcia?

Zach.
No! by my soul 'twas not!

Cor.
Nay, 'an thou dost not know him, how can'st swear?

Zach.
Swear! did I swear? I pray the heav'ns forgive me—
And for all future oaths.

[Exit Zacheo, abruptly.
Cor.
Wonderful prayer!
'Tis a professional licence to forestal
All truth and temper; but in external show—
Having more black than white in his eyes, and scorning
The bent back, humbleness, and funeral tone,—
Well might one deem him fit for worldly action,
And cut-purse sleights, rather than shriving souls!

[Exit.