Borgia A Period Play |
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 | Borgia |  |
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?
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