University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

Gardens of the Ducal Palace. Sun-set.—Enter Luigi del Passato.
Passa.
These splendours seem to me like sugar'd fruits—
Palling the purity of Nature's taste
And integral design. It is far better,
So one hath just enough for means of life,
To set one's back against an aged tree
On some fair hill, and thence survey below
Sweet sylvan streams, with many a snow-white bridge,
Vines, olive-yards, pine-groves, and basking gardens,
And in the fertile, fresh-green distance winding
Slow o'er the fragrant mead, the oxen-teams—
Than be their Ducal lord. Cosmo hath lost
Two sons, the nearest to his sovereign hopes,
By one 'ghast fever, at the self-same time:
What's Cosmo's state? Fair-haired young Garcia,
A cold clay image now, of graceless shape,
Had that within him might have sunn'd the world:
What's Cosmo's dukedom to his double loss?
Of no more value than a bunch of grapes!
Far less, when men are thirsty, or the eye
Wanders tow'rds Arcady.

Enter Chiostro.
Chios.
Dark be the sun—
The heavens a domed tomb, to house this loss!

Passa.
I've heard it, sir—Garcia and Giovanni
Stand pale upon one slab!

Chios.
That is not all—
The Duchess' heart is broken! She was found
Extended senseless near the half-closed door
Of the Duke's private chamber, whence it seem'd
She had just issued. In his Highness' arms
She breathed her last; but utter'd not a word.

Pass.
Ah! there's the sweetness of nobility,
Crown'd with high feeling. How is't with the Duke?

Chios.
Oh, sir, he hath a tower of man within!
Ravaged by storms that howlingly sweep through,
He shakes—but falls not. His passions are his slaves!
Being humane, 'tis reason'd will, alone,
That makes man great with high security.
Such power hath Cosmo. Fare—fare you well, sir!
I go to write the oration with my tears.

[Exit.
Pass.
Would I could weep: my heart hath got a load
Which blessed tears might lighten and disperse.
'Tis Cosmo yonder! Darkly and tall he stands,
Like an extinguish'd beacon of the night,
Whose watchman hath been cast into the sea.
Hither he moves.

[Passato seats himself on a bank.
Enter Cosmo, in a sable robe.
Cosmo.
Vast is the bosom of heaven:
Descended thence, man thither should aspire:
There only can grief breathe, and find repose.
I am not calm; I struggle without aim:
I walk with fortitude as with a friend;
But feel that one of us is false. Who's here?
Sir, do not rise; I know you very well.
You are a sculptor: I will sit by you!

[Seats himself beside Passato.
Pass.
Not grief alone hath made your Highness gracious.

Cosmo.
I thank you: I am grateful for that truth;
And I feel—sir, I feel—much—very much.
You know my recent losses: though you are not
A father or a husband, as I think,
Yet you can enter into what I feel,
In some degree.

Pass.
Entirely, my liege.

Cosmo.
That is impossible!—pardon me, sir;
You do not know. I was about to say,
That as it seem'd my son, sir—my son Garcia—
And you, were friends; and that Giovanni held you—
As do I also—greatly in esteem
For your chaste works, I would at once propose
That you should rear a monument, and give it
The utmost of your nature?

Pass.
With devotion
My soul shall move my hand.

Cosmo.
A high design—
Clearly made out, though broad in its effects?

Pass.
Clear as the story thou wouldst have me tell.

Cosmo
(starting up.)
Ha!—dost thou hint at aught beyond thy words!—
I wander with my sons—I am not well—
The air of the garden and the scent o'the plants
Affect me strongly.

[The Duke sits down again.
Pass.
Good, my lord—'tis common.

Cosmo
(hurriedly.)
Listen: I'd have them all as life-sized figures—
Death's standard there's no quarry that could furnish—
The Duchess—both my sons—Giovanni, Garcia—
Somewhat to tell my grief, if aught can tell it,
And also that of lost Ippolita;
In short, sir, you may place us all as dead!
Now, your design?

Pass.
That needs some time, my lord.

Cosmo.
Thou said'st thy soul was in it?

Pass.
So it is;
But yet my mind's unform'd: 'twill be the work
Of serious years, and cannot in a minute
Spring from the brain fit to stand fast through ages.

Cosmo
(rising hurriedly.)
I'm sick, I'm sick at heart! Find years elsewhere!
Sculpture the almanack—I will have naught!

[Retires abruptly.
Pass.
(coming forward.)
I tire of the court: I am unfit for it;
Its patronage is irksome, for it savours
Of orders from above, and hath in all things
Too much vitality to suit my taste.
Why should my natural moods be call'd eccentric,
While rich men's starts and humours pass for law?
The Duke is great and generous; yet methinks
It ill suits greatness in philosophy,
Because his kin have sought their natural rest
Some seasons prematurely, thus to rave?
I will return to mine obscurity,
To stand upon some cliff that goat ne'er hoof'd,
And watch old eagles and the sinking sun;
Or in primeval twilight of deep groves,
'Midst satyrane trees and silence, shape my clay;
Companion shadows—and commence with Time.

[Exit.
Cosmo
, (slowly coming forward.)
I lose myself: what wonder, having lost
So much that's better? I have outlived all hopes.
[He pauses despondingly.
On the grey slope of life, when friends fall off,
And e'en the fresh flowers and the clouds look old;
When natural sweets are bitter in the mind,
Hope dying of sick memory soon as born,
And beauty, like a lily's pure, cold urn,
Standing in Lethe's waters, wakes no sense
To ravishment, no thoughts to urge our steps;
While grief, experience, and oblivion,
In sequence old, come to dismiss the heart;
Mighty revealings of an after-state
Flit through the brain, and sobbings fill the ear
From the great winds' quadruple origin,
And make man fear himself. But Justice reigns!
Creation and destruction are the extremes,
With all the heavens for centre. Still, we shudder:
Yet one power holds. Unwavering consciousness
Of general practice in humanity,
Is all that shores us up against the eye
Of deep self-scrutiny; the only power
Which can enable man, howe'er appall'd,
To look his own being, steadily in the face.

Enter two Officers, and Zacheo, in his Pirate's dress; with a few links of chain hanging from his wrist.
1st Off.
My liege!

2nd Off.
So please your Highness!

Cosmo.
Who art thou?

Zach.
I am the corsair, Zacheo Barossa,
The infidel who with his daring crew
Hath ravaged long the coast of Tuscany.
I am come to thank you for my life!

Cosmo.
Go—mend it!

Zach.
Cosmo, the state and power thou hold'st are noble;
Far nobler in thy use: great is thy nature,
Tho' thou'rt a Christian whom I ought to hate;
Yet, could a lawless corsair do thee service
Thou'dst not receive it, so I'll take my leave,
And close as rock-veins hold thy present secret.

Cosmo.
Man!

Zach.
It is safe: the plague sometimes takes Princes.

Cosmo.
Hath it not ta'en my sons?

Zach.
So 'tis reported.

[Cosmo waves his hand. Exeunt Officers.
Cosmo.
I have not 'scaped myself, tho' I do live.

Zach.
Save thee, great Cosmo!

Cosmo
(with impatient hauteur).
Hence! and mend thy life!

Zach.
I crave thy pardon if I've anger'd thee;
Still more because thy royal heart is griev'd;
But as I only saw the Princes fight,
I thought—

Cosmo
(with wild earnestness).
Fight!—saw them fight!—thou witness'd it?

Zach.
I did.

Cosmo.
(clasping his hands).
A witness!—an earthly witness!—I did think
There had been but One!

Zach.
(reverently).
Allah doth know I saw it!
The elder first drew steel.

Cosmo.
No!—no!—he could not!
Thine eyes deceiv'd thee—'twas my youngest son—
A whirlwind take thy words!—the elder youth
Was of a natural mildness, passing sweet.
Do not confound my soul!—he was most gentle!

Zach.
Of that I nothing know; but this I do know—
He gave the first offence, and urged his words,
Taunting the other for his boyish years.
They quarrell'd who first smote the boar; and next
About some lady, whom it seem'd both loved;
And then the elder drew, and hurl'd at him;
The other—parrying only, till his choler,
Boil'd up with some sharp wrench, perchance a cut,—
Made play with's brittle rapier, till it flew.
The rest was all confused; the end scarce tells it.
Whether lord Garcia dealt a mortal blow,
Or that his brother rush'd against the point,
I know not. Were both living, I believe
Neither could tell you more.

Cosmo.
(stunned and appalled).
Thou'st told sufficient!

Zach.
I met lord Garcia—shew'd him I knew his deed;
Then sought he aid from me forthwith to bury
His brother's body, lest his parents' hearts
Should doubly bleed—

Cosmo.
Tell me no more!—no more!

Zach.
I kneel, my liege; and go.

Cosmo.
Monster! no more!
Could'st thou un-say by any form of words,
Here would I stand—become a hollow rock—
And live but in my echoes! 'Tis too clear!
Quit me!
[Exit Zacheo.
And take my thanks—for thou hast curs'd me
With my son's innocence whom I have slain!
Is't really done?—Oh! done beyond recal.
His mother's death sums up and proves the account,
Sinking heaven's balance down into the grave,
While all my motives fly like blights i'the air.
I feel most curs'd!—dark iron-crown'd spectres wave
Swords, and the storied banners of our house,
Where all is told! My atmosphere of guilt
Inflates—collapses—pants like dreamy hell
At some strange pause and shifting of its pains!
Now Justice rise! arm thou some shadowy form
To make me pay my debt, thus doubly due,
And one large grave hold Cosmo and his sons!

[Exit.