University of Virginia Library

ACT I

SUNSET
Scene.—The great hall of the ancient palace of the Gonzaga. At either end stand armed sentries. In the centre is the judgement chair. On the rising of the curtain furious shouts are heard without, and grow louder at times as from an approaching multitude, and the besieging army of Pietro. Luigi is discovered striding to and fro in great perplexity. His friend Pulci is watching him earnestly. The time is sunset.
Pulci.
Luigi, go forth, and show thyself at last!
Still the gate holds; though Pietro Tornielli
Three times in vain hath shaken it—Go forth!
He makes enough of clamour and of din;
Thou liest like a rat, unseen, unheard;
Whom can we fight for, or for what? Go forth!

Luigi.
No, Pulci, no! Pietro Tornielli
Advancing takes the wind from all my sails.
He cows me from afar, and quells my spirit,
I know not why or how; but I am quelled,
Like English Richard before Bolingbroke.
It is not that he hath more wit than I,
It is not that he hath more will than I;
Only that on this man success attends.
Where I am foiled and thwarted, he goes free.
Such men there are, and what they will, they grasp.

[A louder uproar without.
Pulci.
This is the sophistry that fears to act.

Luigi.
[Pausing.]
Think with what injuries this man comes armed:
He comes not merely to supplant my rule,
To seat himself where I so long have sat,
But furious memory smoulders at his heart.
Did not our father bear his mother off,
And use her for his lust? His father pined,
And kept a dreadful silence till he died.
With all these memories this man comes fraught,
And thunders an avenger at our gate.

[A sentinel rushes in from the left.
Sentinel.
The gate has been surrendered; they swarm in;
And hither are they making with loud cry!

[A cry louder and nearer. Enter Gemma Gonzaga hurriedly and terrified, the nurse Caterina limping behind.
Gemma.
Luigi, what can I do in this dark hour?
How aid and comfort? Send me not away!
For thou and I have grown together so
We may not be divided but with blood.
Your hopes, your thoughts are mine; your frailties mine.
Brother, let me be near thee in the storm.
I claim its lightning and its thunder clasp.
Ah, send me not away! I put my arms
About you as of old: now come what will.

[Sound as of door below broken open.
Luigi.
Sister, they come! This scene is not for thee:
Go then within and quietly; I alone
Must stand upright against the towering wave.

[Exit Gemma and Caterina.
[Soldiers enter and are drawn up along the walls of the hall. Then enter the Mayor Antonio, surrounded by citizens of Siena, a Priest, and, lastly, Pietro, his sister Fulvia following him.
Pietro.
Luigi Gonzaga, I might well have stormed
Siena gate with fiery memories
And with the sword of vengeance sought thee out.
Thy father with hot lips kissed out the soul
Of her that bore me, and my father broke
Down to the ground and wrapped in mortal shame.
I say, Gonzaga, that I bear enough
Of private injury to spill thy blood.
On no such crimson errand am I sped,
But summoned by Siena's citizens,
Here to resume the sovereignty possessed
Erst by the Tornielli: and to purge
The city of thee and thy iniquities.
[He ascends the judgement chair, motioning to Antonio.
Now read aloud the charges 'gainst this man.

Antonio.
[Reading.]

“It is here charged
against thee, Luigi Gonzaga, that thou hast taken
bribes to set aside the course of justice, whereof
many instances can be proven. Further: that
thou hast surrounded thee with a troop of
desperate malcontents whom thou hast paid and
used for purposes of private quarrel. Moreover,

that two famous enemies of thine thou hast by
poison taken off, having bidden them to supper
here in this palace. That thou hast offered to
spare the life of Paolo Gerli if his daughter
would deliver herself to thee for purposes of
lust; though this man had been condemned by
public tribunal over which thou didst thyself
preside. And many other counts are here set
down against thee, but for the moment let these
suffice.”

Pietro.
Luigi Gonzaga, what hast thou to say?

Luigi.
All that is charged against me I confess.

Pietro.
Then, for these violent ills a violent cure
Demand, and a swift, instant medicine—
I, Pietro Tornielli, summoned here
To adjudicate upon Siena's wrong,
Hereby pronounce upon thee doom of death!
And since delays in these distracted streets
Were perilous: to-morrow thou shalt die.
[Writing.]

I, Pietro Tornielli, called by the
people of Siena to heal the breach and woe of the
city, do hereby commit Luigi Gonzaga, sometime
ruler of Siena, to prison this night to the

intent that at sunrise to-morrow he may be
executed. Given by me this day.

Pietro Tornielli.

Luigi.
At sunrise! Ah, not death! Ah, not so soon!
Let me still watch the sun thro' prison bars,
And manacled behold the rising moon.
Ah, send me not from glory to the grave.
I promise in my cell I will not stir
All day, and will not speak even to myself,
Or murmur an angry word until my death;
Ah, hold me, Sir, in prison till I die.
How can I trouble thee; none breaks away
Or bursts that massy fortress. Can I lead
Rebellion, fettered fast and deep immured?
Deliver me to long imprisonment!
Or banish me an exile from the shore
Of Italy for ever: Let me roam
The limits of the world and utmost isles.
Only I pray thee let me breathe! To go
For ever from the sun! I care not what
Of heavy misery or imprisonment
Thou mayst inflict if only I may live.

[He breaks into sobs.
Pietro.
Luigi Gonzaga, freely thou hast drunk
The purple cup of life; now not to wince,
To beat the breast befits thee in this hour.
Sweet was the draught, now fling the cup away!
And having richly lived, so strongly die.
Bear him away.

Luigi.
Sir! Sir!

Pietro.
Bear him away!

[Luigi is taken off between two guards, four others following.
Pietro.
[Rising.]
Now for the moment nothing more detains us.

Anselmo.
[Coming forward.]
Sir, this man whom you have dispatched to die,
A sister has; and though the rabble rise
Against the brother for his many crimes,
She may untouched through all Siena pass,
For she is beautiful and still and pure.
She is a greater peril than the man,
And while she lives, thy throne will tremble still.

Pietro.
Is she within the palace?

An Attendant.
Sir, she is.

Pietro.
Send for her hither.

[Exit Attendant.
Anselmo.
In this warrant add
To Luigi, Gemma, to the brother's name
The sister; so we root out the whole house,
No son nor daughter of Gonzaga lives
Save these; then make an end and sit secure.

[Enter Gemma escorted by Attendants.
Pietro.
Art thou the sister of Gonzaga—say!

Gemma.
I am, Sir.

Pietro.
He hath been so deeply charged
With public crime and private injury
That I, called in to judge and to pronounce,
To prison have committed him, that he
May die to-morrow at sunrise.

Gemma.
Ah, no!
Ah, do not slay him! Wonderful has been
The love between us—and so soon to die!
Why, he hath but a few brief hours to pray;
To reconcile him with eternal God,
Only the transit of a summer night.
Oh, Sir, at least be merciful to me!
And send me to him that I too may die.
Let me not wither out this hollow world
Alone; but in that warrant add my name
To his; for all his frailties I defend,
In all his acts I am associate.
I would give up the very ghost in me,
And my dear soul would put in pawn for him.
Then by the same blow let the sister fall!
I crave to die with the first light of dawn.
Ah, separate us not, here I beseech thee!

[She throws herself at his feet.
Anselmo.
Enough! By her own mouth she merits death.

Pietro.
[With slow hesitation.]
I cannot—for the moment—well decide.
[Angry murmurs from Anselmo's troops.
That I have doomed her brother is no cause
Why her too I should doom! Is it supposed
A maiden, but a year ago a child,
Could of his crimes and bribes be cognizant?
I ask you all—were it not well to pause?
To pause for a few hours, and hesitate
Finally to pronounce? What thou hast said,
Anselmo, I doubt not is wise, but I
A little leisure must demand in this.
Lead her away! [To Gemma.]
Ere dawn thou shalt receive
My judgement. [She is escorted within.]
Now, Sirs, I would be alone.

[Exeunt all but Anselmo, Girolamo, Fulvia, and Montano.
Anselmo.
Sir, if this foolish mercy to the house
Which hath so deeply wronged you, be displayed,
I cannot pledge me for these faithful bands
That hitherto have followed your wild star.
Sparing his sister's life, you but ascend
A trembling throne, for men who hated him
Will rally to her face as to a flag.
Ah, God! 'tis the old weakness of the blood.
What stopped us at Ancona? what made vain
The long siege of Perugia? Evermore
A woman's face hath foiled us. Now I speak
Once, and no more. Thy followers will fall off
Being again deceived; much have they borne,
But more they will not bear.
[Sullen murmurs are heard.
Strike down the house,
Strike to the root and ere the night be past.

[Exit Anselmo, who is acclaimed by the troops awaiting him.
Girolamo.
[Advancing].
Pietro Tornielli! Thus saith Rome:
Let none of the Gonzaga house be spared!
Nor man nor woman: end the pestilence
That brooded o'er Siena all these years.
If thou wouldst rule secure, blot out the brood
That are anathema to Holy Church!
If a fair face can shake thee from thy seat,
Look not to Rome! Rather be thou of Rome
Outlawed, accursed. So speak I, and depart.

[Exit Girolamo with attendant Priests.
Fulvia.
[Approaching Pietro.]
Brother, what hath been said by Holy Church,
Or by Anselmo speaking for the State,
Is well, and well enough. I am a woman,
And cannot easily forget the shame
Wrought on our mother by their father; now
Comes in revenge though late, and justice too.
These are his children, his; the man who wronged
Her, and brought down our father to his grave.
He hath left issue luckily, for us
To dash our ire on, let his children die!
Not one, but both. Have we not waited long?
Have I not in my pillow set my teeth
Through the grim night to stop these memories?
But here they are delivered to our hands.
Hast thou forgot thy mother's desperate death,
Hast thou forgot the pining of thy sire?
Here with one blow we clear us before God,
That she in that sea-tomb no longer toss
Unsatisfied; nor he call from the ground.
Art thou the victim of a passing face?
Art thou the helpless spoil of shadowed eyes?
Art thou a man, or but a drifting leaf,
Unworthy to be served or followed, or loved?
If that pale face can turn thee from thy wrongs,
Or a low voice make all thy vengeance vain.
I leave thee therefore to the blood of the dead.
This must thou expiate and swift and sure.
[Exit Fulvia.

Pietro.
Give me some wine, Montano! Oh, Montano,
The fever's in my blood and must have vent.

Montano.
What fever?

Pietro.
For a face a moment since
Sprung like a sudden splendour on the dusk,
Now vanished; for a voice that stole on us
Like strings from planets dreaming in faint skies,
With a low pleaded music; for a form
Slight and a little bending over in dew.
This night, Montano, in this coming dark
I must possess her; for I shall not sleep,
Knowing her breathing sweet so near to me,
Here in this palace; no! nor shall I drowse
Until I clasp her fast and kisses rain
Upon her lips, her eyes, her brow, her hair.

Montano.
Sir, you well know I serve your every mood,
But here, is not the game too perilous?
Here on the very first night of your rule
To seize Gonzaga's sister, he meanwhile
Purposely prisoned—ah, so they will say—
So that he may not mar, nor intervene.
Let policy propose some slower way.

Pietro.
No! No! such beauty must be stormed, not snared,
Caught up and kissed into oblivion,
To saddle hoist, and through the world away!

Montano.
I scent a way by which she might be won
And without force, and on this very night.

Pietro.
How? how?

Montano.
Her brother Luigi at sunrise
To-morrow, perishes; now he to her
Is more than just a brother; they have lived
Even from the cradle a life intertwined.
Remember but the burning words of her!
“I would give up the very ghost of me,
And my dear soul would put in pawn for him.”

Pietro.
Well—well—

Montano.
The dawn will come soon, all too soon
For her; but were it breathed into her ear,
That for her beauty thou wouldst spare his life,
Would not her deep love to thy arms consent?
As slowly all the sky grows lighter still,
And Luigi's blood is on the morning cloud,
Will she not for her brother give herself
To thee, and in thy clasp forget the dawn?

Pietro.
See, see her; with the nurse have first a word,
That she may sound her warily. But haste!
Darkness already closes on us two,
And if I have my will 'twill be ere dawn.
Speed, speed away, Montano, be thou swift!
And I with every flower will fill the room
With fume of lilies and raptures of the rose,
And odours that entice the drowsing brain,
And far-off music melting on the soul.
At once away till thou hast news of her.
[Exit Montano.
Come, night, and falling give her to my arms.
What fools are they that use thee but for sleep;
Come and enfold us in the dark of bliss!