University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A Room of State in the King's Palace at Palermo.—Rosalba, Fiordeliza, and an Usher.
Usher.

Madam, his good Lordship your father bade
me say he is seeking the King and will presently bring
you word what day is fixed for your investiture.

[Exit.
Rosalba.
This is the chamber. When I see again
The tapestry and old chairs, a very dream
Seems the past year, from which awakening now,
My childhood seems the sole reality.

Fiordeliza.
Yet if I err not, when we last were here
Your childhood was the dream; the life you then
Were wakening to seem'd very sweetly real.
Do you remember? 'twas the second time
You met Silisco.

Rosalba.
Three long days had past
(Long though delightful, for they teem'd with thoughts
As Maydays teem with flowers) since I had first
Beheld him, standing in the sunset lights
Beside a wreck half-buried in the sand
Upon the western shore. I see him now,
A radiant creature with the sunset glow
Upon his face, that mingled with a glow
Yet sunnier from within. When next we met
'Twas here, as you have said; and then his mien
Was lighter, with an outward brightness clad,
For all the Court was present; yet I saw
The other ardour through.

Fiordeliza.
And when he came
Before the throne and knelt, I watch'd you both,
For I was half suspicious, and I saw
How from the King his quick eye glanced aside
And gaily for a furtive moment fix'd
Upon yon Venus rising from the sea
Wrought in the tapestry; then he rose and bow'd
To you, who answer'd with your sweetest smile,
Whilst old Count Ugo ....

Rosalba.
Oh, my Fiordeliza!
These tears—these tears—they ought to be for him,
The good old man—so pious, so benign,
So generous,—they ought to be for him,
And yet they are not. It is God rewards
Such bounty and benignity as his!
God saw his heart, that it was fill'd with love,
And mine a cold, unhallow'd, thankless void,
And took him from me—took him to Himself—

Fiordeliza.
Hush! here's your father.

Enter Ubaldo.
Ubaldo.
I have sought the King,
But vainly. He secludes himself, they say,
Being St. Michael's Eve, for castigation,
(Good, excellent man! what land was e'er so blest!)
That he may hold high festival unhurt
To-morrow. But I doubt not of the day.
Be here to-morrow when the Court is held
And you shall take your lands.

Rosalba.
Oh, father dear,
May not this homage be more private?

Ubaldo.
What!
A private homage! never heard of one.
'Tis coram curiâ; it must be. Come.
St. Michael's Eve shall be no fast for us
And you shall find a table spread below.

[Exeunt.
Enter The King and Nitido, Groom of the Chambers.
Nitido.

I have tracked her, my Lord; I have smelt
her out; and she shall be found in the convent of San
Paolo.

The King.

Is that certain?

Nitido.

She was seen there by the bedside of a singing
girl called Aretina, once one of the wild ones at Palermo,
now dying devout in the convent hospital and nursed by
Lisana. Aretina sent for her brethren to speak a word
of warning to them before she died; they saw Lisana and
brought me word that she was then about to profess, her
noviciate being just out.

The King.

Go to Haggai, the old Jew, and bid him
come to me instantly. Provide me a habit of a
Franciscan friar and meet me here an hour after sunset.