University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—A Room in Prince Diodati's House.
Enter Algarves and Costanza.
Al.
Be mine! Costanza!—speak the blessed word!—
This exigence admits not of delay!—
The secret of thy Soul is in my keeping!—
I know thou lov'st me—as thou know'st I love thee!—
If not for thine own sake, for mine, consent!—
For utter wretchedness and recklessness
Will take possession of me, if thou leav'st me!—
Thou hast no right to play thus with my doom—
To kindle hopes of blessedness unbounded—
Then snatch away what seemed mine own—for ever!—
Wilt thou be mine?—all mine?—

Cos.
Oh! talk not thus!—
Yet—let my blushes answer—speak they not?—

Al.
They speak!—indeed they speak! in heavenly language!—
In lovely fulness of all love's expression!—
In beautiful confirmation of consent!—
Add blessedness to blessedness, and say,
This very evening, I may claim thy hand!—
Nay! speak not! let these blushes still speak for thee!
While all thy countenance of beauty glows
With their divine suffusions, all thine aspect
Is made one universal, rosy “Yes!”—
Yet say this evening!—

Cos.
Yet show mercy thou!—
Nor urge me—for all urges me—my fears—
My heart—my hopes—my loathing—and my love—
All urge me—and with dangerous eloquence—
And all the tortures of this inner conflict—
The harrowing horrors of this sore suspense!—
Urge me not—since all urges me!—at least,
Keep silence thou, while loudly talk my thoughts—
Keep silence still, since these too clamourous counsellors—
(Clamourous though tongueless,)—have ta'en up thy strain—
Have all ta'en up thy strain, too wilderingly—
Too eloquently well!—

Al.
The love I thought
Beyond all possibility of increase—
Grows at thy words—ev'n measurelessly mightier—
My true dear Love!—my faithful one!—mine own one!—
Thou wilt be mine!—this evening at the altar
Our vows shall join us in eternal bonds—
This evening meet me in the chapel, Sweet!—
Hard by the Baptistery—Oh! give consent!—

Cos.
Oh! Heavens!—I cannot—I cannot resist—
I have tried—struggled—battled all my best—
But not one moment could believe or hope
In mine own final victory!—but enough!—
I cannot—'tis in vain!—I cannot—no!—
I cannot try ev'n more to thus resist thee!—
I will agree—I will obey thy wish!—
I will be there—I cannot help myself!—
My power, is very vanity—my strength,
'Tis very weakness—let the rush—the reed—
Stand up and challenge all the hurricane winds—
The clouds refuse to melt before the sun—
The snows to vanish at his bright approach—
The shades to flee before his glowing face—
The rivers to flow on towards the main—
Teach these—teach all—to break from trammels free—
But not my Woman's Heart to stand 'gainst thee!—

[She rushes out.
Al.
Oh! Happiness! too deep to be sustained!—
Can this be life?—I never felt before
This bounding of the pulses!—high as Heaven
They seem to play, then trembling, sink again
Deep in my Heart's joy-burthened kindling core!
My dreams smile out emparadised with Hope!—
Costanza, beautiful as Heaven art thou!—
Thine eyes and lips and gracious brows have all
A Lightning-loveliness that plays and moves
In ever-altering variousness—methinks,
Angels hang hovering near thee, to convey
Thy smiles of glory from this lower world,
To brighten all their heavenly homes above—
So suddenly they're visioned and are vanished!—
But everlastingly do others take
Their place, and never lives without its stars
Thine all-celestial Firmament of Face—
For if not smiles indeed be glowing there—
That sweetness—(which the soul of smiles appears!)—
There beautifully buoyant stirs and lives!—
Thy very sorrow smiles—one saintly Patience!—

Enter Fiorilina.
Fio.
All, Count Algarves, hath my friend revealed,
And trusted to my truth and confidence!—
With all my Soul I do approve the plan!—
And purpose thus to aid it and advance—
My Brother shall assemble this same night
The great and gay of Florence in this Palace—
My Father's kind consent we well can gain;—
Amid the glad confusion and the stir—
Costanza better may effect escape,
Than from the Lambertazzi's doors—thyself
Wilt join the revelry—then steal away,
Waiting her Presence with the attending Priest—
Whom thou wilt bring t' officiate on the occasion!—

Al.
Thanks! gentle Lady!—I at once take leave
To make due preparations—

Fio.
Oh! be cautious!—
I tremble lest some chance all unforeseen—
Should dash to earth this joy's untasted cup—
Be speedy, and be secret!—fare thee well!—
[Exit Algarves.
For me, what fate is yet reserved?—Lorenzo!—
I scarcely dare let thought approach that theme—
Lest Hope should spring too brightly into birth—
And then—the murderous disappointment come,
To cloud me with a yet undreamed-of Darkness!—

Enter Costanza.
Cos.
And is he gone!—it is relief to me—
My thoughts' tempestuousness hath worn me out—
Such workings of the mind—such inward wrestlings!—
Oh! gentle Fiorilina!—what is rest?—
I have forgotten all its balmy blessings!—

Fio.
The sweeter will they seem when found once more!—
Controul this agitation I implore thee!—
Thy frame can scarce endure such restless trouble!—
Thou wilt be ill, and all left still unfinished!—
Now listen—I have settled with Algarves—
(Who much approves the scheme,) that here to-night—
A Gala should be given,—from hence 'twere best
You made your sure escape—'tis all contrived!—
Look up!—be happy!—

Cos.
I am happy!—yes!—
'Midst many griefs stands one exceeding joy—
The luminous and the all-illuminating!—
My Life!—my Love—my heart is full of thee!—
All—all the affluence of my thoughts is thine—
Stamped with thine Image—like a Sovereign's treasure!—
(To Fio.)
And, Sweetest! thou shalt yet be happy too!—
When I am wedded to my own Algarves—
Thou wilt become, I feel it, and foresee it,
Lorenzo's happy consort—doubt it not!—
Yes!—he will woo thee—win thee—wed thee—wear thee
The nearer to his heart, for that so long
It did mistake its lovely destiny!—
I am about to take a fateful step!—
Forgive her—Heaven!—who hath forgiven herself!—
Who dares herself forgive, and clear her Soul!—
I cannot feel this as a sin!—yet—yet—
Shower mercy on me, if 'tis such, indeed!—
But Oh! I shudder—though without retracting—
The while I dwell upon the coming deed!—
'Tis an unmaidenly and desperate act!—
I die away in thoughts of it—until
My Soul sets all in blushes like the Sun!—
Heaven!—Heaven!—forgive her, who herself forgiveth!—
Wilt come with me, my kind one! to thy chamber!?—

[Exeunt.