 | Gregory VII |  |
SCENE III.
—Corridor in the Tower of Centius in Rome. Folding doors at the back. Knocking outside.Enter Centius, closing the doors behind him.
Cen.
Open the gates whoe'er the man may be.
Nay—stop! Since that I have a place of strength,
It were as well to choose my visitors.
Enter an Attendant.
Att.
This ring, my lord.
Cen.
Admit the applicant.
[Exit Attendant.
'T is Godfrey!—sure this bodes us something good:
A strong ally.
Enter Godfrey.
My lord, you 're welcome here.
Godf.
Thanks, noble Centius: come I not in time?
Cen.
You find the city in some trouble, sir.
(Aside).
In time!—
[Looking towards the folding doors.
Godf.
With greater troubles pending.
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Do you think so?
Godf.
I do, and think they may be forthright ended
By one sure blow.
Cen.
Ah! I would gladly see it!
Godf.
And aid it, wouldst not?
Cen.
With my soul I would.
Godf.
And I with my sword!—Curses on Gregory!
Cen.
I say so too.
Godf.
And on the Emperor.
Cen.
Of that hereafter; but the matter in hand
Is Gregory's deposition. I perceive
You know of this.
Godf.
And therefore came I here.
Cen.
We 'll set our shoulders to his downward wheel!
His fall is compassed—and, to make it sure,
I have some friends here, you shall look upon.
[Centius opens the folding doors.
Enter Guido, Fabio, and Tancredi.
Godf.
I do rejoice to meet such friends, and feel
The strength of a united purpose. Centius!
My life for Gregory's death!
Cen.
His death, my lord?
His deposition and discomfiture,
Perchance his banishment—that did we wish;—
But for his death?
Gui.
It were the safest measure.
Cen.
Do you advise it?
Gui.
Albeit, I would not
That ye should kill him.
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'T were a dangerous task.
Cen.
And difficult withal.
Godf.
Not dangerous, nor difficult! mark me well:
I have forecast the means.
Cen.
So prompt—proceed, sir.
Godf.
(laying his hand on his breast).
I will not speak to ye of my wounds here,
And why I seek his life.
Gui.
Oh, you have cause,
Most bitter cause, my lord.
Godf.
This I'll pass over.
At the Grand Conclave, when in pontifical state,
Uttering his brazen fiats, Gregory sits,
My emissary shall forthwith appear
And lure him to our grasp: then while he sits
On his coiled chains with clenched teeth, Eberardus
With safety may proclaim his deposition.
Thus will the fresh-pierced veins of his disgrace
Give colour to his sudden taking off,
(aside to Cen.)
And seem the Emperor's will.
Cen.
Nay, but that 's good.
Gui.
(aside).
Would it were done! I see him manacled!
I see him dungeoned, while the inward throes
Draw square his nether jaw, and his fierce thoughts
Shake his large shadow on the lamp-lit wall!
(Aloud).
But how effected—if it needs must be?
Cen.
My lords, we are too hasty: first secure
And bring him hither—then decide his fate.
Tan.
Ay, that 's the best, and now the means—the means?
Godf.
He must be bidden to a lonely palace,
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From foreign powers on secret policies.
Cen.
He will not go: he will command them straight
Into his presence.
Fab.
What if your noble lady
Were feigned to send?
Godf.
My lord!—We met as friends.
Were he worse devil, and worse enemy,
And that I hated him a thousand fold,
I would not—pardon me—we 're wasting time—
Say, shall we tell him that some dying noble,
Some aged prince, craves help and consolation
In his last moments from the Pontiff's presence?
Gui.
And add, be sure, this aged prince bequeaths
Unto the pastoral care of Gregory,
His sunny lands with all the flocks upon them;
Else, he 'll not move.
Cen.
Lord Guido's dulcimer,
Methinks will charm the shepherd from his fold.
Gui.
Ay, ay; ye 'll find I read him very close:
The man is not profound. His present power
Grew from no real orthodox eloquence:
He owes it all to his Memnonian voice!
He has no genius.
Cen.
But he has strong friends.
Gui.
Alas! that 's true.
Godf.
And enemies.
Gui.
Still, 't is true:
And most of all I fear the Greek-god head,
And stony eye of Cardinal Brazute.
Howbeit the cunning toils are most my trust,
Framed out of hearing.
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(deliberating).
'T is a feasible scheme—
The sunny lands and flocks—it may be done.
Godf.
I 'll answer for the rest: lands he shall have—
The widest—those that stretch beyond the grave—
And, be the records of his crimes, his flocks,
While wolves in darkness howl his monody!
[Exeunt.
| Gregory VII | |