 | Borgia |  |
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ACT I
SCENE I
An apartment of the Vatican: at the further end the door of the Treasury by which the Lord Cardinal Casanova is seated.The Lord Alexander VI. and an Envoy from Naples.
The Pope is seated; from time to time he plunges his hands into a coffer of pearls, letting the pearls stream through his fingers.
ALEXANDER.
All are for her! Each an epitome
Of her—the very skin of them her own,
Our Pearl above all others. So your monarch
Will mate his nephew with her?
ENVOY.
He consents, Holiness,
Having o'erlooked the letter
Giovanni, lord of Pesaro, has written
In affirmation of her virgin state—
The fault being his.
ALEXANDER.
This sorry Milanese!
He raves with spite and proves himself a man
By foul detraction of her family.
We chuckle at the weakling. He may hoot!
Your Don Alfonso is a noble lad,
A girl's new phœnix ....
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To give his only daughter to my son?
ENVOY.
A cardinal!
ALEXANDER.
A cardinal, we cannot yet release him
From vows—your ear!—he holds detestable.
My second son, where were his livelihood
Without the Church's revenue? All prudence
Must hold him to the priesthood for a while.
Betroth him to the daughter of your king—
Your king and I, at leisure, will provide
Some principality for Cesare
To match his sees and yielded cardinalate.
ENVOY.
Make it God's law your Cardinal may wed,
And then, his scarlet hat within his hand,
My lord the king would take him as a son.
Now, the proposals of your Holiness
Are but—poetic.
ALEXANDER.
No, no! The royal princess
Carlotta—is her bent our way?
ENVOY.
She flat refuses the lord Cardinal.
ALEXANDER.
She has not seen him, blond and beautiful.
A churchman! You may look with candlelight
To find his tonsure. Even my dear Giovanni
Is only half a prince, his brother by,
Although a rare one in his splendid right.
And as for mode and elegance all know
Our youthful Cardinal is just a gallant
Most Frenchified in form.
Well, well, well! I am dreaming:
Poetry, you call my dreams ....
This pleasant marriage
Of Don Alfonso and my Donna Lucrece
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My pearls!—
You watch them through my fingers—lucent lumps;
This pear-shaped ovule heavy with its light;
The pearls and pearlets dropping
With patters loud and soft together—listen!
My daughter will have more and lovelier pearls
Than any woman in the greedy world.
Would you have sight of one large coffer filled,
This emulates?
[Rising].
There is the treasury door,
There the Lord Casanova, full of winks
At voices from the cave.
Enter Monsignore Gaspare Poto.
POTO.
Your Holiness,
I sought his Excellence the Duke Giovanni
In his apartments, but he is not there.
ALEXANDER.
[To the Envoy.]
So strange! My son the Duke of Gandia, fails me
To-day with greeting, and to-day we fix
The hour when I review his armaments
Under our blessèd gonfalon. 'Tis strange.
[To Poto.]
Go to Madonna de' Catanei's house:
His mother made a supper, I was told,
For him and for his brother.
[Exit Poto.
[To the Envoy.]
You conduct
Don Cesare when, next month, as our Legate,
He goes to crown your king?
ENVOY.
My hope!
ALEXANDER.
And now the pearls!
Open, Lord Casanova.
[The treasurer unfolds the door and discovers Donna Giulia Farnese and Donna Lucrezia Borgia in Neapolitan dressing-gowns of white silk, their golden hair untressed, choosing jewels for their nets.
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Laugh, ladies—do not blush. A pair of swans!
[Taking Giulia's wrist.]
No, no, Madonna—no,
My Giulia—not the ruby! You must match
Your lovely eyelets with the diamond.
GIULIA.
Always
The diamond, Holiness.
ALEXANDER.
You shine, you shine!
Lucrece, my softer radiance—what, my Pearl?
[He kisses her.
Draw out the heavy coffer,
Lord Casanova. Open it! The sight
Grows slippery on these burnished domes!
There, there—ah, there
Is patrimony ....
ENVOY.
Wondrous!
ALEXANDER.
Tell your master.
[His arm round his daughter.]
Lucrece, the King of Naples sends his nephew
To cheer your maiden widowhood. Next month
You will be bride and wife.
LUCREZIA.
So soon!
ALEXANDER.
Santi! she quarrels
In maidenwise with time! You shall not leave me,
As when you wept at Pesaro. Your Prince
Consents! Alfonso is of lusty frame—
Good face and eyes .... I speak him as he is?
ENVOY.
The handsomest youth of Naples.
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There, my girl!
So end your troubles! 'Tis a swelling shoot,—
This bridegroom.
LUCREZIA.
May Madonna prosper me!
ALEXANDER.
[Crossing himself.]
The glorious Virgin—to that prayer, Amen!
[To the Envoy.]
Our daughter bent obedient to our will
Her idle marriage should be set aside,
By mercy flawless and canonical,
With modesty's reluctance: she will bless
Our older wisdom in Alfonso's arms.
No clouding, Pearl!
We can but laugh exultantly to open
Our treasury and find, as in a case,
Two perfect jewels of Pandora's kind.
LUCREZIA.
[In a whisper to the Pope.]
The orator will disesteem me thus,
In spreading hair and schiavonetto.
ALEXANDER.
Never
Will any man but worship loveliness
Wrapt loosely and dishevelled.
Charm, my fair ones, charm
Is simple in ascendency.
Re-enter Monsignore Gaspare Poto.
POTO.
Madonna
Vanozza de' Catanei bids me say
His Excellence the Duke of Gandia left her
At nightfall, riding with Don Cesare,
After a merry supper. Shall we search, Holiness,
His lordship's haunts?
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O Poto, Poto, search
His haunts! The malice of these chamberlains!
Madonna Giulia, Monsignore Poto
Would search the place where Don Giovanni hides.
Have mercy on my son!
GIULIA.
Monsignore finds
Your Holiness so jovial he is conquered
By the same vein.
LUCREZIA.
Excuse him!
ALEXANDER.
Even our ladies, Poto,
Plead for the Duke's seclusion. Without doubt
He waits for sundown to forsake the place
Where he was sociable.
LUCREZIA.
Then is Giovanni
So wary in his fancies?
ALEXANDER.
Oh, for my sake—
But you forget it—for his father's sake . . .
To-night he will be with us—we have patience:
Though not to fix when we review his troops,
That is a fault and we must chide our Captain.
Well, my Lord Casanova, close
Your treasury: we would not lose such jewels!
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SCENE II
A Room in the Lord Cesare Borgia's Palace of Borgo Sant' Angelo.Messer Bernardino Betti (Pintoricchio) and Messer Ercole are waiting to deliver a ceremonial sword.
Enter Lord Bonafede, Bishop of Chiusi.
BONAFEDE.
The worshipful Lord Cardinal is coming;
I have announced you. The ambassadors
Had taken leave.
[Examining the sword in the hands of Messer Ercole.
By Hercules—your pardon,
Yet by your name, as if it were divine—
This queen of swords is warlike, not of peace
In its adornment as a legate's sword . . .
A legate, tamquam pacis angelus,
In Holy Father's phrase. O sirs, the shame
That such a soldier—what condottiere
In Italy would match our Cardinal—
Is wasted on the Church.
PINTORICCHIO.
Lord Bonafede!
BONAFEDE.
I speak out of my flesh. I have gone ever cursing
The tonsure where the helmet should have been.
I am a man-at-arms, the jangling glories
Of panoply are dearer than the bell
That dins the raising of God's sacrifice.
Come, Messer Bernardino, you can mingle
Your saints with Pagan bulls and goddesses
Who love their gods by Nile.
Cesar!
Enter the Lord Cardinal Cesare Borgia.
CESARE.
The sword!
So I receive my fate. Cum numine
Cesaris omen.
[He holds the sword erect and kisses the motto.
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The Legate's Sword! I laugh ... it is at others,
The names they call me, when I have one name
Hot at the core of fixedness, my heart.
O antique Cesar, conqueror and fount
Of empire, thou wert made my saint at birth;
Thou art my spirit and my augury,
Thy laurels guard me and thy eagles' wings.
My eyes are on thee and thou lead'st my dreams
To homage and thy triumph. Dive Cesar,
Here is thy name
Cut as I bade upon thy chariot-wheel,
Since triumphers can use the spokes of Fortune
For carriage of their prevalence.
My thanks
To you, dear Bernardino, I have always
Loved for your gifts, esteemed as one of ours,
Who wove our life round with the signs and legends
Denoting us by power of phantasy;
I thank you for this emblem of my soul,
Prefigured in these lovely images.
My equal thanks
To you, good Messer Ercole, for strength
And nobleness of handiwork, the craft
That has subverted matter, as the god
Turned chaos to a fabric. Ah, and the work,
Your work, is done, signed of your fame and done.
You are most happy. Mine is all an absence
As yet, a future! But the pledge is mine—
This sword, your creature, and my prophecy.
PINTORICCHIO.
Beloved and Cesar, you have been our poet;
From you our valid agency, from you
The teeming of the parable.
ERCOLE.
You notice
The azure guard? It pleases you?
CESARE.
As spring's
Sky-blue. Lord Bonafede, you that savour
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These grooves: now see the contour and the curves,
The equilibrium, so beautiful
I worship it with reverence. Now bend
Above the glass, like adamant, and trace
My hero in his deeds.
Here is a mighty deed,
And one that was of doom. This floating ensign,
These naked horsemen at the riverside,
The child, with wreath of laurel, by the flood
Playing his flute to outset of a life ....
For this is Cesar crossing Rubicon.
Here are his very words: “The die is cast.” . . .
Enter Monsignore Gaspare Poto.
POTO.
Your Worship,
His Holiness requires you instantly;
For he is gnawed by deep inquietude.
The Duke your brother has been missed two nights,
Has disappeared without a trace ....
CESARE.
What, lost?
POTO.
The Holy Father shakes with agitation;
His emissaries seek the city through,
And he is grievously impatient, asking
The aid of heaven and earth. You saw the Duke
At the Madonna de' Catanei's house.
His Holiness would question you.
CESARE.
I come.
[They wait while Cesare stands absorbed.
POTO.
Pardon! The Holy Father is in wrath
As well as fear.
CESARE.
I come. Oh, my Lord Bonafede,
The sword is in your charge ....
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The Borgian Bull,
A victim at its feet. The flames are blown;
There will be sacrifice! It was a dream
I told to Messer Bernardino ....
[To Poto.]
Swift,
Come swiftly to the Vatican! Giovanni—
Well, is he dead, or will he yet return?
SCENE III
The Vatican: a room overlooking the Tiber. It is twilight.Don Joffré Borgia and Donna Sancia d'Aragon, who is weeping, look out from a distant window; near at hand the Lord Cardinals Francesco Borgia and Bartolomeo of Segovia are also looking out.
The Lord Alexander VI. is pacing backward and forward.
ALEXANDER.
[Pausing by the Cardinals.]
Those lights ... those fireflies
Out on the river, do they dance above him
Fast as they swarm and change?
CARDINAL BORGIA.
You must not watch them.
ALEXANDER.
It takes my mind off from the pictures sweeping
As in a fever, through it. Fast they come ....
[He begins to pace again, his arm in Cardinal Segovia's.
Cesare's picture
Of how they parted on the Banchi Vecchi;
The strange masked figure that Giovanni swung
Up to his saddle as he rode away,
Away—
I see him in the midsummer, calm night—
Toward the Jews' quarter in Sant' Angelo,
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Ha, to the quarter of our deadly foemen,
The Bears, the vile Orsini.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
That looks ill.
ALEXANDER.
And he was never seen again. His brother
Says the masked recreant came behind a vine-stock,
And motioned to Giovanni secretly:
He says Giovanni
Was red and vehement as he turned back
To feasting at the table .... Ah, more pictures!
A new one, painted wet upon my brain
Over the rest!
[Stopping suddenly in the middle of the room.
Where is he,—my young son,
My beautiful Giovanni? You stand round,
Wise with the Church's wisdom, but where is he?
He may be living, tortured, gagged .... He is not!
No, there is come a change in me; I know
He is not breathing with me any more,
And yet I cannot bid you pray for him;
I do not count him dead. He is but lost,
And lost so deep I do not think a creature,
Nor even his Creator knows the place
That he has wandered to. The lost must wander,
They have no goal, not even hell, no rest.
They have their freedom as the unbaptized
To rove in horror where none plucks the sleeve
Or questions them or bids good-day.
They wander on till they are flitting ghosts,
Till they are elemental and dissolved,
And when they would entreat us, they must rail
In the howling wind about our chimney-stacks.
So I encounter my Giovanni—so!
So I was tutored of the storm last night.
He is not breathing with us any more!
CARDINAL BORGIA.
Have faith, his body will be found.
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His body!
When last I saw the boy
He shook his golden poll with merriment
That I received his Spanish mistress here,
A most devout and humble Catholic,
With eyes dark wells for Cupid's thirst. He laughed,
Till all the room was sunbeams from his mirth.
Donna Adriana Orsini enters, supporting Donna Lucrezia Borgia. They are deeply veiled.
If God
Turn such a thing as that to carrion—then
I shall curse God.
[He makes a gesture of imprecation.
[Turning to Lucrezia.]
Well, wanton, you look white!
What comfort have you? Would you be a nun
That you crept to San Sisto from your palace
Soon as you heard? Is not this missing boy
Your brother? You would steal from any noise.
The tumult of the people and its rage
Is round Giovanni's name; but yesterday
The bruit of the town was of Lucrezia.
If any, you should suffer from men's tongues,
And you refuse to suffer. All reproaches
Drive you more dumb. But now you shall not cloak
This mystery as if it were a relic.
You have been with the boy: you know
Where he loved, where he was hated. All our loves
And hates are in your hands. You have grown more blind
Than any woman ever made herself
That she might see in the dark.
Give up your witness.
[Lucrezia remains before him silent, with open mouth.
A little devil, circumspect,
When I would have rank truth.
[To the Cardinals.]
Are these my children?
Oh, but I spare them ... we must spare our bastards,
It says in Holy Writ.
[He goes towards the further window.
LUCREZIA.
[In a whisper to Adriana.]
Giovanni .... Yes ....
He is very rash and very quick to wrath,
Yet dear in his quick temper. I have seen him
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I may look on him again!
ALEXANDER.
[From the back.]
Joffré, you stand
Like a fixed statue draughty in a niche:
I do not pin you there. Go all of you! Go hence!
Sancia, I am ashamed that you should sit
Weeping what is not of your blood. Get up!
Out of my presence! You all stand and gaze
As at a play—perhaps a comedy.
[Joffré and Sancia go out.
[To Lucrezia.]
And you—unnatural, go hence!
[Adriana makes a gesture of appeal: Alexander waves his hand wrathfully. As the women go out, an usher meets them, closely followed by Madonna de' Catanei.
God's breath,
His mother!
[The usher speaks to Lucrezia. Lucrezia puts her arms round her mother's neck.
We are here in privacy.
[To Cardinal Borgia.]
Bring her in hither to me.
[Vanozza, holding Lucrezia's hand, is conducted to the Pope. She falls at his feet: he raises her.
O Vanozza,
Poor heart!
VANOZZA.
My Lord, your Holiness, I came—
Forgive me.
ALEXANDER.
Nay!
[He falls sobbing on her shoulder.
We mourn together. Where we had a son
For eyes' delight, there is nothing.
[Soothing and patting Vanozza.]
Hush, you must not!
Little beloved, you suckled him. You must not!
Go home; pray to Madonna.—She will hear.
And let me see your face.
[Drawing her veil.]
It is the same;
As honest and as good.
[He holds her face in his hands.
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I have good children.
I am so richly blessed ... and this dear boy,
A Prince from Spain, came back again and kissed me.
ALEXANDER.
Good son and enviable righteousness
To kiss this face in filial piety.
There, there, you must forget him!
[Gaspare Poto approaches.
Poto,
You pull my skirts.
POTO.
Come quick. A waterman ....
ALEXANDER.
[Steadying himself against Vanozza.
Then tell me, Poto .... Let me know from you.
[He moans.
POTO.
I cannot tell you more; he waits to speak.
[Poto supports the Pope to where the waterman Giorgio stands with an Inquisitor at the further end of the room.
LUCREZIA.
[Suddenly coming to Vanozza.
Cesare! ... Mother, we must cling to him.
VANOZZA.
Where is he? In these halls? It dazes me ....
[Watching the Pope.
God's image on the earth! I was profane ....
And you a Princess, too! O my Giovanni!
You, all of you, are but as visitants;
You are enskied afar. Happy, unhappy mother!
Child! O sweet, floating hair against my cheek,
And your cold cheek ....
LUCREZIA.
Mother, but you were happy
When Cesar and Giovanni supped together?
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I never saw them both more gay or fair;
They plagued each other like two golden lances
Crossed in the sunshine at a tournament—
And so till Cesare had warned the hour.
LUCREZIA.
We must cling to him.
VANOZZA.
Can I give a thought
To any but my lost, my lost Giovanni,
My all but God—and to my God? Lucrece
Turns with her mother to His Throne of Mercy?
O Child!
[Her cry echoes one from the Pope.
ALEXANDER.
Hush, hush! ... It is incredible.
The horror swallows me. Hush, hush!
Laid over
The white horse! . . .
[Advancing.]
O Madonna de' Catanei,
Go with the girl away. You shall have tidings.
His mother—go!
My blessing, child. I have no more to say.
[Exeunt Vanozza and Lucrezia.
Good Adriana, follow them.
ADRIANA.
And you, Rodrigo?
ALEXANDER.
Follow them.
[Exit Adriana.
Sancta Dei Genetrix,
Turris Davidica, Refugium
Peccatorum, Virgo clemens!—
[Returning.]
What is this, Francesco,
He tells you further? Nay,
You will not broach the facts? He saw these men
Creep back and other two come stealing downward,
And the white horse—and what it bore.
[To Cardinal Segovia.]
Your arm!
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Spare yourself, Holiness.
GIORGIO.
I told the Inquisitors
All as it happened.
ALEXANDER.
Tell me.
GIORGIO.
By the Tiber
They turned the horse and swung the body down
In heavy mire and litter. I could see
A bulrush sucked at by the risen billow,
And how a winding object swam along,
Lapped by the current—'twas the dead man's cloak.
They pelted it with stones: then ....
ALEXANDER.
[To Cardinal Borgia, who supports him.]
Cousin—O Francesco,
And I have wit to ask where this was seen.
POTO.
On the Rispetti, by the Ospedale.
ALEXANDER.
[To Giorgio.]
Then go and tell the fishermen; direct
Those foolish, flitting lights that drive me mad.
[Giorgio moves away.
Why have you held your peace?
GIORGIO.
A hundred times,
From my beached boat
What I have seen I saw—none cared to hear.
[Exit with Inquisitor.
ALEXANDER.
Thrown out as dust and refuse to the river,
My worship!—leaving me
As one who is no more. My life's high hope
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A dead boy, who was proud and beautiful.
Francesco, in a single night! O Cousin,
I thought that he was comforting his youth
In a kind Thaïs' arms and he was down
At the bottom of that river!
CARDINAL BORGIA.
Nay, dear Holiness,
Has not this Giorgio seen a hundred times . . .
ALEXANDER.
You think Giovanni lives?
CARDINAL BORGIA.
God grant it!
ALEXANDER.
He has ridden
Beyond the walls, at some castello wooing
Maiden or wife, since summer bans the chase;
A foolish pastime 'mid infested country!
But now the vineyards are as silken tents
For Amor's camp. I am too precipitous
In passion: I must wait another night,
And then ... fold him again
Upon my heart! Go back, go back, my heart!
Patience!
[He finds himself at the window.
But see, there, see
The lights are sailing to one point. Out yonder
What is that spot of dusk?
POTO.
The Ospedale.
ALEXANDER.
A constellation!
Malign, bright stars! Giovanni! But the lights
Are moving onward to Sant' Angelo.
They move along in state. It is my son!
They dazzle me .... They pass me ....
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BURCHARD.
Holy Father,
The illustrious Duke of Gandia has been found
In velvet coat and cloak, the dagger sheathed,
His ducats in his purse.
ALEXANDER.
It sails, it sails, it sails
On to Sant' Angelo. The torches ....
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
Nothing is stol'n?
BURCHARD.
No, not a single gem.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
Vendetta? Are there wounds?
BURCHARD.
I counted seven;
One mortal in the throat. His hands were tied.
ALEXANDER.
[With a howl like a lion's.]
God, by God's blood, my curse!
[He falls in a swoon.
BURCHARD.
[Lifting both hands.]
His Vicar here on earth!
CARDINAL BORGIA.
[Who kneels and supports the Pope.]
Beware!
His father must not see him.
BURCHARD.
Washed and habited
As Gonfalonier, on an open bier,
He will be borne,
With flambeaux, to his mother's private chapel,
And will be swiftly hidden!
[Shrugging his shoulders.]
But, my lords,
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His Holiness the fisher of his son,
Though not, by rights, of men.
[Poto and the Cardinals laugh.
ALEXANDER.
[Slowly opening his eyes.]
Francesco, are they talking of my son?
SCENE IV
A room in the Lord Cardinal Cesare Borgia's Palace of Borgo Sant' Angelo.It is dead midnight: lights are burning. Lord Cardinal Cesare, in the black satin dress of a Spanish gentleman, with jewelled poignard, reclines on a couch. He appears to be sleeping, except that now and again he slowly rolls from hand to hand a gold ball of perfumes. His Spanish page Juanito Grasica is asleep. Behind the couch, across a table, the great ceremonial sword lies naked, and near it is a new purchase, the sleeping Cupid with broken foot of Messer Buonarotti.
Donna Lucrezia Borgia enters with Donna Adriana Orsini, whose hand she clasps: she looses it, and, after a moment's pause, comes to her brother.
LUCREZIA.
Madonna Adriana brought me here;
She stays without: I go back to the convent.
Cesare—tell me all that I should pray.
CESARE.
[Turning his head back towards her from the couch.
Amanda, that your scruples be removed;
That I be Cesar.
LUCREZIA.
Take a little rest.
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Shall you, from prayer?
To-night you look a sibyl.
Who did this deed?
LUCREZIA.
Let Juan play the lute;
You must have music through these restless nights.
How lost you look!
CESARE.
You startled me. How lost!
[He closes his eyes.
LUCREZIA.
[Stealing away to Adriana.]
He is dreaming; he has quite forgotten me.
Come, Adriana, soft! As an astronomer
He must not be disturbed: he is quite lost.
SCENE V
The Pope's Bedroom in the Borgia Apartments at the Vatican.The Lord Alexander VI. is extended asleep on the bed.
The Lord Cardinal Bartolomeo of Segovia and Monsignore Gaspare Poto.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
I thank God for this sleep. Those fearful days
I knelt against his door! The raving wildness
I heard at times—inhospitable sorrow,
Aloof from our Creator! Then, dashed down,
The heavy frame wept like a haunted child's.
Then silence
Too perilous to spread! I beat the door.
POTO.
We stood and watched and prayed you might prevail.
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And when he opened—Jesu, he was faded
As a dead fish; slack chin, and Arab eyes
Glassy in fever, with a vengeful thirst.
If only he had known the murderer,
And could have struck him down to deepest hell—
POTO.
Each moment
He snatches ends of this dark mystery,
As he unravelled at the dead of night
The broidery on a frame he could but feel.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
True, true! It turns the brain that no one knows.
Some whisper 'twas the Lord of Pesaro
Revenged himself for ridicule and the shame
Of his divorce.
POTO.
[Shaking his head.]
He has no credit here.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
Some roundly have it
The Lord Ascanio Sforza did the deed,
For he and Gandia quarrelled the same day
That our fine Duke was struck.
POTO.
It was a masterpiece
Of secrecy—this murder.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
No more news?
POTO.
By item all I know is told to you,
My Lord Segovia.
ALEXANDER.
[From the bed.]
Ah!
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I will retire,
And send the Lord Francesco Borgia up
To urge his cousin's appetite.
Behold!
[Poto, turning to the bed, finds the Pope sitting up, a beatific smile on his face.
ALEXANDER.
But I have seen my son in Paradise . . .
POTO.
How fares your Holiness this morning?
ALEXANDER.
Poto,
There was no scar on him, not the least wound;
That is the truth: and he stood armed again.
As bright as San Michele he looked down
Upon us from the wall, his gonfalon
Swathing around him as he stood. His face
Was to me as an angel's.
[He weeps quietly.]
I repent,
I will change all to meet that boy again
In Paradise, no wound on him, no scar.
And yet the sight of him,
O Poto, drove down to the rasping quick
Of conscience through my heart. All shall be changed,
The Vatican be cleared of sin. These bastards . . .
Let me not see them more! Joffré, Lucrezia—
Joffré must mind his government afar,
I banish him. Lucrece—oh, I shall gather
The seas between us; she shall dwell in Spain,
Dwell in Valencia, deep, where I was born,
White little demon-girl!
[He rises, trembling, and Poto robes him.]
No priest henceforward
Shall hold two benefices; simony
No more shall breed among us. God would punish
Some sin in us; it could not be Giovanni
Deserved a death so cruel. Gently, Poto,
You are too violent.
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Patience, Holiness,
You slit the silk.
ALEXANDER.
Where is the Cardinal
I called my son? Unnatural, where are they?
The children I have fostered in my bosom,
Where are they?
POTO.
Holiness,
Donna Lucrezia in the Sistine Convent
Prays day and night.
ALEXANDER.
Sweet soul!
POTO.
The Lord Valencia—
ALEXANDER.
Ah, what of him? Where is his piety?
POTO.
When your affliction broke on you, before it
Men fled as from a pest. Lord Cesare
Is shut within his palace; duteously,
Almost from hour to hour, his servants pass
For tidings of your health.
An Usher appears at the door.
USHER.
The Governor
Of Rome prays for the Presence.
ALEXANDER.
He has tidings?
Oh, it will break my heart! I would lie down
Within my coffin—and that tapestry
About the portal, with its shaking folds,
Opens and shuts the lid. Let him come in.
[The Governor comes to the Pontiff's feet.
I would not question you; give full relation;
Do not repeat the tales of yesterday.
24
Most Holy Father, there is little new
Of the Lord Duke to certify—his mule
Was found hard by the Palace Barbarini.
ALEXANDER.
[To Poto.]
My lad, my lad! We know what beauty there
Looks into Tiber like the moon!
I thank you
For your devotion.
GOVERNOR.
Shall we still further search?
ALEXANDER.
Expressly, till the recreant be slain.
He dies within my thoughts a several death
Each time I front the dark where he is lost.
God damn him deeper every day! Search, search!
[Exit Governor.
His mule, and at that spot! Gaspare, breathe around
The Palace, bribe the women. If a stab
From jealousy—we stop the inquisition.
Mea culpa, mea culpa!
Enter the Lord Francesco Borgia.
O Francesco,
What do you bear so carefully—the Host?
CARDINAL BORGIA.
Nay, but a little food.
ALEXANDER.
I cannot eat.
Gaspare, bear it from the room. Go all
Away from me!
[Exeunt all save Cardinal Borgia, who quietly remains.
Cousin, you wait for news?
It is too true
The boy has perished by his father's sins.
I must make expiation for his lust:
I have lived ill. Before the Consistory
I will make full confession.
25
Holiness,
If I may trust the murmur in my ears
From men to whose free speech
I gave safe conduct, it is not for you
To make avowal. Heaven requires of you
Such greatness and capacity of pardon
As in extent it touched the limits of,
Setting its brand of safety upon Cain.
ALEXANDER.
What, Joffré?
CARDINAL BORGIA.
No, not Joffré ... but a son.
Belovèd, exercise the privilege
Of God's vicegerent. Wash away this guilt,
Remove it from you; pardon secretly.
ALEXANDER.
Not Joffré? Joffré is my heir .... You lay
A heavy stone upon Giovanni's grave
To keep me from him. But it is not true,
It cannot be! We Borgia do no harm
To any of our kin.
CARDINAL BORGIA.
And yet to certainty
Drive the suspicion, and forgive the crime.
[The Pope paces, wringing his hands.
ALEXANDER.
He never made complaint. I have been thoughtless,
Thoughtless to Cesare .... He has been absent
Too often from our ceremonials,
From our investitures. I drove him jealous
By welcome of his brother out of Spain.
I did him wrong.
Good kinsman, you have taught me
To dry my tears ... and I have still a son.
Fetch me again the little dish of food,
The wine .... I am grown faint.
See that this bruit
Come never to his mother. He is all
26
God knows my love to him is infinite!
But—bid him keep his palace. I forbid
His presence here .... My sins have plunged my children
In death and hell, and I must live alone.
SCENE VI
The Vatican; Sala dei Pontifici.The Lord Alexander VI. is enthroned. The Lord Cardinal Cesare Borgia stands before him, defiant.
ALEXANDER.
How dare you thus intrude?
CESARE.
But it is rumoured
It is your will
The Lord Ascanio Sforza be your legate
In this affair of Naples.
ALEXANDER.
Ay, my will.
CESARE.
Your Holiness will recollect he lies
Under suspicion of Giovanni's death.
You send a blood-stained envoy on this business,
And thrust me from my place. You have yourself
To thank for your Giovanni's death; the honours
You heaped on him have brought him to his doom.
Will you bring more
And greater desolation on your years?
ALEXANDER.
You shall not go
To Naples. You forget your brother's death.
27
I am your legate, if before, so after.
As for my brother's death, that is but Fortune—
The spokes of her wheel turned bright on me. I was
Your second son, enslaved to your vocation;
Profane, I touched your sacred things and trembled
You dared to put me to such use: in secret
I wrought my sword, my legend. I am Cesar,
And he is all my omen. By a fate
So marvellous it rocks my very dreams
I wake, I rouse myself
To majesty you put on me, or let it
Drop downward to the void.
[Motioning to the Pope that he must continue speaking.
You did not reckon
With me, you let Giovanni take my place
Beside you and your throne. None noted me
Level among the scarlet hats, except
This goddess with a rudder, this fair child
Of Jove, this liberator. I am silent,
Except before confusion such as yours.
[Coming closer to the Pope.
Blind to the moment—you have not been blind.
I watched you from Spoleto setting gins,
I watched you bribe on bribe ....
ALEXANDER.
Ay, there you track me,
And I must answer for my wickedness.
I owe my seat to wickedness.
CESARE.
Leave weeping!
There should be pact between us. How your coffers
Are filled I know, and where your heart is lavish,
And what you dream. I kneel before your throne
With faculty
As boundless as a god's, with strength as supple,
To be your instrument, to win you lands,
To give you rule. You have forbidden me
Your presence: if I pass from it forbidden,
I leave you—up and down to wave your hands
In blessing on the powers you supplicate.
28
An army for the Church; there will be legions . . .
ALEXANDER.
[Hiding his face in his cope.]
Ah me! of darkest angels!
CESARE.
Citizens
As once in Rome; and the Eternal City
Safe from her foes.
ALEXANDER.
You came on me so sudden,
You overwhelm me ....
But you shall go to Naples,
And not Ascanio.
CESARE.
Father!
ALEXANDER.
[Drawing Cesare to him.]
I have wronged you.
Come to my heart.
CESARE.
I will redress the wrong.
[The Pope kisses Cesare coldly on his forehead, and blesses him. Cesare passes out.
ALEXANDER.
How swift he moves away—as if
With something he had snatched!
Is it my soul?
| Borgia | |