 | Borgia |  |
SCENE I
Rome: the Piazza Novona.In the centre an antique statue stands, half-excavated, dressed up and painted to represent Proteus as an old man, one of his arms being turned into a dragon, one into a bull. This is the statue called Pasquino, and it flutters with epigrams and satires. To the left the door and steps of the Church of San Giacomo. To the right some houses: behind Pasquino, the Orsini Palace.
It is early—the market-people are beginning to arrive.
The Lord Cardinal Cesare Borgia, in the caftan and turban of a Turk, comes out of one of the houses with the Turkish Prince Djem. He stands and looks round from the centre of the Piazza, near Pasquino, and close to the adjacent stone-seat belonging to the old Stadium of Domitian.
CESARE.
Djem, Djem! let us stay here awhile. We must rest, for our
night has been a busy one. How pale the morning looks,
the girls unsunned, and the church chilly!
DJEM.
You do not look pale. You look very handsome, dressed
as a Turk.
CESARE.
I shall never look so handsome in this dress again; it
will never be so indecent. It is as if a wench were clad as
generalissimo—a Cardinal in these fair war-colours. The
very broideries have a courage in them. How bold they are!
How they glitter!
You should fight with us in our army.
CESARE.
[Putting his arm round Djem's neck.]
You shall fight with
me in my army. We have borne such witness against ourselves,
and in places where the Cardinals might recount our misdoings,
that to-morrow in Consistory, when I make appeal,
they will release me from my vow.
DJEM.
Then you will be no longer Christian?
CESARE.
Look there, look at those yellow-garbed Marani. To save
life and limb they pay me monies—money for a journey to
France. Oh, look at them! They groan, and I am the
cause.
[With a gay laugh.]
I am a Christian.
[He sits on the
stone bench.]
By the Holy Keys, I could bury myself in these
trousers! They almost bury you, and your five daily meals
with the sugared water as preamble! What an elephant you
are, Djem, in your thirty thousand yards of linen! If I could
walk like you! It is the measured step of the elephant and
the beat of a Venetian chorus .... Then you have killed four
people—Ecco!
DJEM.
Ha, ha, ha!
CESARE.
Your eyes are half-closed, but I can see a bluish, glistening
sword .... Four victims!
[His hand touches his hill.
DJEM.
Will you take me into your church? They are staring at
you, these little girls. You go far.
CESARE.
[To a girl.]
My little love, your name?
GIRL.
Virgilia.
You find me beautiful? While the Piazza is still empty ....
[He whirls her swiftly round Pasquino.
DJEM.
This may not be in the Piazza.
CESARE.
[Sitting down again.]
You shall see what may be in the
Church. Virgilia, you should kiss the Captain.
GIRL.
Not that one.
CESARE.
[Resting his elbows on his knees and extending his hands to
her.]
But who is the Captain?
GIRL.
You, you are the beautiful Captain.
CESARE.
And he has kissed you, remember!
GIRL.
I will bring you melons.
CESARE.
[To Virgilia's companion.]
What have you for your
soldier?
DJEM.
I will give you gems from this chain, little lady, if you will
so honour me. Ha, a kiss!
CESARE.
Bought, bought! You are shedding your great clusters.
Matutinal, fair lady?
As you.
CESARE.
As I. Matutinal, fresh from the couch, and conducted by
divinity to your prayers!
SANCIA.
We do not come from Mass.
CESARE.
Lord Cardinal, I must deliver you from the burthen of
your sins.
[Drawing Sancia to his side.]
A Paynim to a
Paynim.
CARDINAL IPPOLITO.
I was conducting the fair Princess home from a masquerade.
CESARE.
Let her join the masqueraders.
Djem, is not the devil in her eyes? Your captives gleam
so when they are taken.
SANCIA.
You conduct me to Mass—is that your pleasure?
CESARE.
It is my pleasure to conduct you.
SANCIA.
An infidel, a bastard Paynim! The true breed does not
flaunt it so licentiously. Sultan Djem, are you curious in our
worship?
DJEM.
I am curious, Madonna, to watch you.
SANCIA.
I am veiled.
Ah, you are not carnal enough to be veiled. Some of our
treasure is in caskets, some exposed. To some men it is the
knowledge of what is hidden that animates; to others—
SANCIA.
See, I unveil.
DJEM.
It is useless, Madonna; you are a spot ....
CESARE.
A spot, a temptress, a devil! How we gather our escort,
proceeding!
[He advances up the church steps with Sancia, followed by Djem.
A ROMAN PEASANT WOMAN.
Who is it, Virgilia?
VOICES.
It is one who rode a white horse.
—You would say a sumpter-mule, for the beast had packs.
—Who is it?
—It is an Infidel.
—Let us stone him!
—It is one with claws—it is the Devil.
—He walks with Princess Sancia.
—The Duke Giovanni did that.
SANCIA.
Do you hear? There is another brother. I am between
two, and attended.
CESARE.
Does the crowd still keep the legend?
Off, gentles, you do not know me.
VOICES.
What are you?
[He turns and fronts them.]
The Lord Cardinal!
—The Pope's son!
You are the brother of a ghost.
[Two Spanish Gentlemen of Cesare's train pass and doff to him.
—Ugh, the Spaniards!
—Hidalgo!
—Moor!
—Infidel!
—Where is your cut-throat?
A BOY.
You are the Lord Cesar.
[Cesare goes up to the Boy and flings a chain round his neck.
OTHER VOICES.
More allegiance!
Cesar, Cesar!
[He scatters largesse.
CESARE.
Lord of the feast, lord of all revels, lord of Rome! Now
read Pasquino's libels—then follow to church.
[Exit into San Giacomo with Sancia and Djem.
VOICES.
But he has the face of a king.
—I picked a stone and threw—it grew like a millstone when he smiled at me.
—He has a face full of pardon.
—You shamed him with the ghost.
—La, la, la! He is shameless as a child. You may be ribald before him; he cannot for very innocence reprove.
—He bade us read Pasquino.
—Come!
—Messer Millini, you are a notary.
—Read!
—Catch these doves round Pasquino, and let us hear them coo.
—What part does he play?
NOTARY.
'Tis Proteus.
AN ONION-SELLER.
And what is Proteus?
An old prophet who changes shape a hundred times and as
swiftly as our Pope. Now for the ways of the world, now
for the ways of God, and back to old ways once more!
A WOMAN.
Why are Pasquino's arms made creatures? See, a bull ....
NOTARY.
The arms of the Borgia. Our Pasquin loves to bait that
beast.
ANOTHER WOMAN.
And the snake?
NOTARY.
Hush! Am I Pasquino? The old prophet shall speak.
[He reads.
Whelm the Bull-calves, O vengeful Tiber, deign
To take them to thy raging breast;
And let the monster-bearing Bull be slain,
A victim to Infernal Jove addressed.
VOICES.
Oh, oh, oh!
A FRIAR.
Rome were favoured, indeed, if Tiber had his glut.
A GERMAN PILGRIM.
To think the Pope could promise such good things, and
not be able to hold for the space of half a year.
MERCHANT.
Alexander Sixtus! A quivering reed after the breeze,
valiant in power of recovery. Vivat diu bos, vivat Alexander!
WOMAN.
His sorrow was too great.
A BANKER.
There is festa about him. All Lent—that is not our Pope.
And there is festa about the Bull-calves ... Vituli . . .
the same race!
Melons, ripe melons!
[The Notary turns and reads to the people behind Pasquino. Laughter and murmurs. The market begins. Cesare and Sancia come out together from the church. Djem lingers in the porch, which gradually fills with people from inside the church.
SANCIA.
But you will lose her, Sultan Cesare, you will lose her. I
am irresistible; and Lucrezia's husband is my brother.
CESARE.
You knew your destiny. You saved me the tedium of a
siege.
Djem, they are too forward. Can you not beat them off?
DJEM.
A nut, a nut! But, my gentle ones, a nut! A pistacchio
for these teeth. I bite the nut; then I bite you.
[He draws them, laughing, after him among the booths.
SANCIA.
You are bold—a Turk at mass! But I adore the purple.
Young Cardinal d'Este grows in my favour. He has eyes.
...
[In a sudden fawning voice.]
But his eyes are not silver,
they are brown, brown as Giovanni's.
CESARE.
Then to be extinguished.
SANCIA.
You will not hurt my little Cardinal—you will not? Ah,
Paynim, had you been chosen for me instead of Joffré!
CESARE.
You have chosen me instead of Joffré.
My little Joffré is no more to me than the pet foal of the
stables. If His Holiness would grant divorce ....
CESARE.
What may not His Holiness grant at my suggestion!
Commend me by letter to your cousin Carlotta. I shall
meet her in France; persuade her to desire me, and your
Ippolito shall be safe. I would marry Naples, the rightful
line.
SANCIA.
For this you have flaunted me through the stone-staring
church! You Borgia! Always the trap in your mighty simpleness.
A gull!—I hate you.
[Djem sidles up.
DJEM.
Sweets, comfits of coriander. They are welcome?
Madonna, you pick!
[Sancia turns from Cesare.
[Donna Lucrezia Borgia d'Aragon, with Donna Vanozza de' Catanei, comes up the church-steps from the back. They are in mourning. The Spanish Gentlemen of Cesare's train approach. Instinctively Lucrezia lets her veil fall aside. Groups stand round her, admiringly.
LUCREZIA.
Behold!
[Advancing and patting the jewelled clasp on his shoulder.
O Cesare, this lovely guise!
You make me feel
A Princess and an Eastern Princess. Jewels
And dusk of jewels .... Oh, the snowy turban—
But I have never seen your eyes so blue.
You will despise me in this mourning garb,
Great Sultan.
[She half-closes her veil and looks round on the group.
Mother, but your son is bowing,
Is bowing low—salute him. By his side
The Princess Sancia.
VANOZZA.
I salute the Princess.
[Advancing to Lucrezia.]
And I—
[They bow. As Lucrezia turns from her mother the Spaniards engage her in talk. Cesare stands a little aloof, his eyes on his mother.
DJEM.
[Returning to him.]
Don Cesar, but you comprehend
This pearl is for the merchant-men and not
For any private owner in the world:
She must not walk with mothers.
CESARE.
[Absently.]
Then convert her!
You can convert a woman in a trice
To any worship, if you worship her.
DJEM.
[Returning to Lucrezia.]
You are the moon,
The crescent moon. I have seen that in the church.
LUCREZIA.
You have seen the moon beneath our Lady's feet.
DJEM.
You are the Lady.
[Lucrezia laughs irrepressibly.
VANOZZA.
Come, Lucrece, away!
CESARE.
But have you, little mother, eyes too pious
To own your son?
VANOZZA.
I cannot understand.
You are drest as a Turk.
CESARE.
[Catching Djem's arm.]
This is my brother.
Hush, hush! An infidel!
And your own brother ....
SANCIA.
Ah, so lately murdered!
Madonna de' Catanei, I condole.
LUCREZIA.
Peace, Sancia!
[To Vanozza.]
This noble Turkish Captain
Is brother to the Sultan: Cesare
Instructs him in our Church's mysteries.
DJEM.
I am instructed; it is excellent.
A good Church!
CESARE.
Mother, this is ill-behaved;
You are not quite yourself.
Give me your blessing ....
Here is the sacred spot.
[He bends and points to his tonsure in the midst of his turban.
—Then pass away
To the dark shrines and weep!
Mother!
VANOZZA.
[Shaking her head.]
I have no blessing. I refuse.
CESARE.
Then pass away to the dark shrines and weep!
[Vanozza goes slowly up the steps to the church.
Hither, Lucrezia, hither! Through the market
For the last time while I am Cardinal!
Hither, sweet boon-fellow!
LUCREZIA.
[Pulling at the fringe of his turban.]
But call her back.
How fares His Holiness? You cannot dance
While there are ghostly footsteps on the stair;
But you can entertain him, make him laugh,
Till the sunny tears
Break out from all the creases of his eyes,
With the report of Djem before the shrines,
Cesare so profoundly heretic
He may no more be Cardinal.
LUCREZIA.
[Showing her small teeth as she smiles.]
Come on!
I will report with great fidelity.
I will report
Djem is a Christian and must be baptized.
But you! Now as I am your boon-fellow,
And for the laughter of His Holiness,
Let us make sport together .... Comfits, Djem!
[They plunge down into the market-place; the people gather and follow them like a train.
CONFUSED VOICES.
Vitula! She is for Tiber!
—Her new husband is there in the Vatican.
—Her last husband has told us ... it is not to be spoken.
—That Turk might be her bridegroom.
—We know he is her brother.
—Where is Don Alfonso?
—Berenice!
—Pasiphaë!
—And she laughs like the sky of the first year!
—Her throat—its pearls are but shadows.
—She is beautiful as the good Madonna.
| Borgia | |