University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Alfonso's Tent.
Claudia—Sola.
Clau.
Odious Fontano!—how my heart detests thee!
What?—Scorn my love?—Refuse a proferr'd crown?
Counsel the king to listen to the charge
Against my only son?—A charge, which doom'd
That son to banishment!—I'll bear no more!
[Enter Cavallo.
Speak!—Speak!—Cavallo—Is the deed perform'd?

Cav.
Ne'er shall Fontano see the light again!
He lives, but sees not!—Yes!—The deed is done.
Would it were undone!—Miserable man!
Why?—why, assist in such a barbarous deed?

Clau.
Would it were undone?—Nay, my good Cavallo,
Would that it could be executed twice!
But what said he?—How bore he all the pain?
Did he not weep?—Or bore he all in silence?

Cav.
As to Fontano's miserable cell,
Silent, and anxious of the deed, we mov'd,
Manfredi whispered me to move with care;
Lest, in our haste, we wak'd him from his rest.
For, though in chains, Manfredi fear'd his arm.

Clau.
The senseless coward!—But did Fontano shew
No signs of misery.—Heav'd he not a sigh?
Said he no word?—Did he not curse me?—Speak!—

Cav.
He wore an air of manly melancholy!
We found him sitting at his prison window,
Watching the clouds, that roll'd in volumes round
The giant summit of Vesuvius!
The moon, at intervals, illumin'd his face;
No passion seem'd to move him:—All was calm,
E'en as the scene, on which his eyes were fixt!
He heard us not:—But, ever and anon,
Drew deep ton'd murmurs from a trembling lyre.—

Clau.
Oh! what a tale is this!—A poet's tale!
Worthy the pen of Tasso!—Well! what more?

Cav.
Sometimes he seem'd, as wandering wild in thought;
For, now and then, the sounds were wild and sad;—
Now he would chaunt the Virgin's evening hymn;
At which I trembled, and Manfredi too!

Clau.
Trembled?—The bigots!—But proceed,—proceed.

Cav.
Seeing him thus absorb'd, Manfredi rush'd,
As if he were awaken'd from a trance;—
And as Fontano, for the last, last time,
Fix'd one sad look upon the scene, which rais'd
His thoughts to heaven, full in his visual orbs
Scattered the drug, that robb'd his eyes of light!
Oh! righteous heaven! I do repent me now
Of all I saw!—that, seeing, I forbore
To strike the hand that did it.—Gracious heaven:

Clau.
—Repent thee?—Nay, Cavallo, why repent?
Thou canst not doubt, but I'll reward thee well!

Cav.
Not all the wealth, Italian monarchs boast;
Nor all the gems, that Indian quarries yield,
E'er can reward me.—Oh! that I had died
E'er, in an hour accursed, I gave consent,
Thus, thus, to barter all my hopes of heaven!
What, though I were beset with ills around,
Steep'd in the gulph of every deep distress,
And my lov'd infants famishing with want—

Clau.
They'll want no longer!—

Cav.
Yes!—a father's fame!
Oh!—better had they pined, from day to day,
Till death had lull'd them to a happier fate;
Than that their father should allay their wants
In banquets, purchased at a rate so dear!

Clau.
Cavallo!—why—I took thee for a MAN!
Nature had stampt a goodly image on thee;
Therefore, I say, I took thee for a MAN!
This weak, this idle, sense of moral wrong
Writes driveller on thy forehead!—But proceed—

Cav.
—'Tis done!—alas!—the coward act is done!
Manfredi did it!—Having so perform'd,
Unpitying,—unrelenting,—and unmoved,
He led him to yon precipices; where,
Watching the bubbles of a spring, he saw,
Eating wild berries for a feast, a Boy,
Who smil'd with rapture at the sight of money.

Clau.
And what ensued?

Cav.
Manfredi gave a ducat;
And whisper'd in the famish'd urchin's ear,
That if he wished for fifty ducats more,
He'd lead the miserable, sightless man,
Up to the margin of a precipice,
And leave him there, to wander as he would!

Clau.
'Twas well concluded!—And ye left him there?

Cav.
Yes! there we left him.—Thus I quit my tale.
Would I could lose all memory of it too!

Clau.
Hence—hence!—thou hero of the ready tear;
Hence, to Manfredi!—Send Manfredi hither.— (Aside.)

I fain would thank him for Fontano's ruin;
[Exit Cavallo.
Oh!—it is balsam to my soul indeed!—

[Exit.