 | The Virgin Widow ; or, A Sicilian Summer |  |
ACT I.
Scene I.
A Quay in front of the Palazzo Malespina at Palermo.—Spadone, Boatswain, and Mate.Spadone.
When your Marquis turns merchant, see you
the way of it! No sailing orders, and as much gone in
demurrage as would buy a cargo.
Boatswain.
West-South-West! as I'm a living soul,
and as merry a breeze as ever gave a big belly to the
fore-topsail! Our chaplain on board the Rombola used
to say that there were seven cardinal sins in sea-divinity,
and the worst of them was to keep a fair wind waiting.
Spadone.
And a cargo too that longs for us. When we
reach Rhodes, we shall take such a treasure of jewels and
ingots aboard as the good ship never lodged before.
Mate.
Gold and jewels is a good cargo; for 'tis they
that bring a man fair weather in this world.
'Tis a cargo would buy fair weather for us
three for the rest of our lives. But we'll talk of that
aboard. Go thou, Antonio, and get me my orders.
Mate.
Where shall I find you?
Spadone.
In the catacombs. Thou knowest the cavern
where we hid those silks we brought from Genoa. Aretina
is to meet me there.
Mate.
There, then, I will seek thee.
Spadone.
But take heed to thy steps; for the worthy
Noah's forefathers that lived in the bowels of the earth
were men of crooked ways and their paths are hard to
hit. Go aboard, boatswain, and get the water stowed.
We shall surely sail to-night.
[Exeunt.
Enter Gerbetto and Fra Martino.
Gerbetto.
I ever found your counsel wise and sure.
One thousand ducats are well nigh mine all;
The earnings of a life of infinite toil.
Fra Martino.
The Marquis should disperse them in a day
And think the ducats and the day well spent.
And as for means of payment, you should know
The lands of Malespina stand impledged
For what he owes Count Ugo.
Gerbetto.
From his birth
I have denied him nothing; almost loved
That as he grew to ripeness, what was soft
Would harden in him, what was hard would soften;
For he was of a sweet and liberal nature.
But lending this to lose it, robs my child,
My poor Lisana, of that little store
I gather'd for her dowry.
Fra Martino.
For what end?
Not for his good,—be wiser than to think it.
Give thou to no man, if thou wish him well,
What he may not in honour's interest take:
Else shalt thou but befriend his faults, allied
Against his better with his baser self.
Gerbetto.
Look! who be these? the Marquis and his friends.
A banquet waits them at the palace. Ah!
A greeting by the way. he cannot pass,
No not a dog nor cat, but he must speak.
Let us begone, for I were loth to meet him.
Scene II.
The Palazzo Malespino—Silisco, Ruggiero, and other Noblemen. Bruno and Conrado. A Manager and three Players. Singing and Dancing Girls, and amongst the former Aretina.Silisco.
Off with these viands and this wine, Conrado;
Feasting is not festivity: it cloys
That lightly fills the soul. My pretty friend,
Touch me that lute of thine, and pour thy voice
Upon the troubled waters of this world.
Aretina.
What ditty would you please to hear, my Lord?
Silisco.
Choose you, Ruggiero. See now, if that knave ...
Conrado, ho! A hundred times I've bid thee
To give what wine is over to the poor
About the doors.
Conrado.
Sir, this is Malvoisie
And Muscadel, a ducat by the flask.
Silisco.
Give it them not the less; they'll never know;
And better it went to enrich a beggar's blood
Than surfeit ours;—Choose you, Ruggiero!
Ruggiero.
I!
I have not heard her songs.
Silisco.
You sang me once
A song that had a note of either muse,
Not sad, nor gay, but rather both than neither.
What call you it?
Aretina.
(touching her lute).
I think, my Lord, 'twas this.
Silisco.
Yes, yes, 'twas so it ran; sing that, I pray you.
(sings).
Of the land and sea,
I wander whither I will;
But oft on the wing
I falter and sing
Oh fluttering heart, be still,
Be still,
Oh fluttering heart, be still.
But soft and kind,
And wander whither I may
The eye-bright sighs
And says with its eyes,
Thou wandering wind, oh stay,
Oh stay,
Thou wandering wind, oh stay.
Silisco.
There! have you heard elsewhere a voice like hers?
The soul it reaches not is far from Heaven,
Is't not, Ruggiero?
Ruggiero.
To say ay to that
Were for myself to claim a place too near;
For it not reaches only, but runs through me.
Manager.
Now, had she clapp'd her hand upon her heart
In the first verse, which says “Oh fluttering heart” ...
1st Player.
And at “oh stay” had beckoned thus or thus ...
2nd Player.
And with a speaking look ....
But no—she could not—
It was not in her.
Silisco.
You'll not take the gold?
Wear this then for my sake; it once adorn'd
The bosom of a Queen of Samarcand
And shall not shame to sit upon this throne.
[Hangs a jewel round her neck.
Aretina.
My heart, my Lord, would prize a gift of yours,
Were it a pebble from the brook.
Silisco.
What ho!
Are not the players in attendance? Ah!
A word or two with you, my worthy friends.
1st Girl.
Why, Aretina, 'tis the diamond
Was sold last winter for a hundred crowns.
2nd Girl.
A princely man!
3rd Girl.
In some things; but in others
He's liker to a patriarch than a prince.
1st Girl.
I think that he takes us for patriarchs,
He's so respectful.
2nd Girl.
Tell Spadone that;
Bid him believe such gifts are given for nothing;
A diamond for a song!
1st Girl.
Well, let it pass;
We're none of us St. Ursulas; forsooth
Even I have tripped at times; and Adrian swears
That on your mouth as many kisses meet
As on St. Peter's toe.
Speak for yourself,
And let my mouth alone.
Silisco.
With all my heart;
We'll have the scene where Brutus from the bench
Condemns his son to death. 'Twas you, Ruggiero,
Made me to love that scene.
Manager.
I think, my Lord,
We pleased you in it.
Ruggiero.
Oh you did, you did;
Yet still with reservations: and might I speak
My untaught mind to you that know your art,
I should beseech you not to stare and gasp
And quiver, that the infection of the sense
May make our flesh to creep; for as the hand
By tickling of our skin may make us laugh
More than the wit of Plautus, so these tricks
May make us shudder. But true art is this,
To set aside your sorrowful pantomine,
Pass by the senses, leave the flesh at rest,
And working by the witcheries of words
Felt in the fulness of their import, call
Men's spirits from the deep; that pain may thus
Be glorified, and passion flashing out
Like noiseless lightning in a summer's night,
Show Nature in her bounds from peak to chasm,
Awful, but not terrific.
Manager.
True, my Lord:
My very words; 'tis what I always told them.
Bruno.
A word, my Lord;
The Maddelena's mate is here without,
And craves to see you.
Silisco.
Call him in. Your pardon.
[To the players.
One moment and we'll hear you.
Ruggiero.
'Tis a speech
That by a language of familiar lowness
Enhances what of more heroic vein
Is next to follow. But one fault it has:
It fits too close to life's realities,
In truth to Nature missing truth to Art;
For Art commends not counterparts and copies,
But from our life a nobler life would shape,
Bodies celestial from terrestrial raise,
And teach us, not jejunely what we are,
But what we may be when the Parian block
Yields to the hand of Phidias.
Enter Mate.
Silisco.
Well, what cheer?
Mate.
Spadone sends me, Sir, for sailing orders;
The wind is fair, and we may lose a day
That's worth a week.
Silisco.
Ay, say ye so? But stop;
Where may these Jews be found? You cannot sail
Upon the goods at Rhodes.
Bruno.
My Lord, the Jews
Have been these three hours in the outer hall
Much kicking of their heels and cursing Meroz.
You would have heard them, but I shut the door
By reason of the smell.
Silisco.
Oh, bring them in.
Aretina
(to the Mate.)
To meet him in the Catacombs? I will.
Take this, and tell him not you saw me here.
[Gives him money and exit.
Silisco.
Poor gleanings of the grapes of Ephraim!
I had forgotten them.
Ruggiero.
The day will come
When they will not permit you to forget them.
Your bondsman, Haggai, will be then perchance
Your Lord and Master.
Silisco.
When is that to be?
Oh, thank you; in the reign of Tush and Pish.
Ruggiero.
Farewell. I would not willingly look on
Whilst knavery prospers. Knavery, did I say?
Haggai and Sadoc, if I rightly read
The docket Nature scribbles on their skulls,
Are not more knaves than ruffians. Bear in mind
The Zita is in sight, which brings my friends
From Procida. You promised we should meet
At vespers, on the shore, to see her in.
[Exit.
Farewell. And you, my friends. I thank you all.
If business will not wait upon my leisure,
Still less shall you. To all a kind farewell.
[Exeunt all but Silisco and the Mate, Bruno, and Conrado.
Enter Haggai, Sadoc, and Shallum.
Silisco.
God save you, Jews; have you brought me
those writings?
Haggai.
Your worship shall behold them: here they
be. Two skins.
Silisco.
“To the rich and worshipful Nimshi, our
brother at Rhodes, these:”—This is the order for the
treasure. Take it, Mate, and begone; and by sunset let
the good ship Maddelena look small in the offing, like
a lobster with its legs up.
What next? the charter-party. Fifty ducats per diem
—crew to be found in all things needful,—was it so?—
Freightage—demurrage—brokerage— Brokerage!
Why Haggai, the ship being thine own and the bargain
struck betwixt thee and me, whence is the brokerage?
I saw no broker.
Haggai.
Your worship shall understand. In taking of
a ship on freight, there ever comes betwixt him that
owns her and him that takes her, that useful and that
profitable man, a broker. 'Tis the law and the usage.
Is it not, Sadoc? Is is not, Shallum?
Sadoc.
The law and the usage.
Shallum.
Justly the law and usage.
Silisco.
But is that useful, profitable man invisible?
for I saw him not; I dealt not with him.
Haggai.
Your worship shall understand. Lo! the
times are evil, and hardly shall your servant live if he
sweat not in two callings. Truly I own a ship, and in
the way of an honest industry I do likewise follow the
occupation of a broker.
Silisco.
Oh! I see. Thou wert thyself that profitable
man.
Haggai.
At half the charge that it should have cost
you else. Was it not, Sadoc?
Sadoc.
Yea, and that half halved.
Haggai.
Was it not, Shallum?
Shallum.
Truly, Sir, for a reasonable broker, there is
none other that I can commend you to but only the
worthy Haggai.
Silisco.
To make a bargain 'twixt himself and me.
What is the other? Oh! the mortgage. Stop.
Haggai.
His worship calls.
Sadoc.
Ho! pen and ink.
Shallum.
Lo, here!
Silisco.
If I understand this writing, it pledges, not
Villa Guastata only, but my other effects whatsoever.
Haggai.
Villa Guastata! Woe is me! I travelled and
gat me to the spot. Woe! Woe! Woe! a desolation
and a hissing!
Silisco.
Nay, nay, Haggai; the property is sufficient
for the charge. But as I have a purpose of payment, I
care not what effects thou makest answerable.
There—have we made an end?
Haggai.
Of this present business. But there be certain
lands at Punto Vecchio that bring your worship but little
profit at present.....
Silisco.
My worthy masters! Lo! the times are evil!
Surely your servant in more ways than one
Must use his diligence; and having spent
The past hour greatly to my profit here
The next I purpose spending in the woods
Amongst the nightingales. God speed you, Sirs.
Scene III.
—The Catacombs under the Western Suburb of Palermo.—Aretina alone.Aretina.
He loves my singing, but he loves not me.
How should he? knowing me so vilely link'd
With this Spadone. To have fallen was sad,
But for the love of such a knave as this
To fall, was falling doubly;—not as Eve
Lured by the fruit, but by the Serpent's self.
To think that, having fallen, I am his
For ever, and must evermore misdeem
His venom to be nectar. No, could I pierce
The plot that now he hatches—sure I am
There's perfidy design'd—the last were this
That I should see of these detested caves,
Or of this wretch and his barbarities.
Enter Spadone.
Spadone.
According to thy wont—blear-eyed, I see.
What has sprung the leak now?
Aretina.
Were I to tell you I should find no pity; so
I may keep my counsel.
Spadone.
Pity! As great a pity to see a woman weep
as to see a goose go barefoot. 'Tis their nature. But,
hark you, my girl; if gold can make you merry, you
shall not maunder long. When I come back from
Rhodes ....
Aretina.
Yes. Shall you bring much gold with you?
Spadone.
Treasure upon treasure! heap upon heap!
Here, in this very cave, you shall see it; and what
is more, you shall have it in your keeping. For when
I shall have seen it safe with you, it will be needful I
should make away for Calabria and whistle off a month
or two till I shall see how things be taken.
Aretina.
But whence will this treasure come?
When the Maddelena shall be seen in the
offing, hie thee hither. Wait not till she comes into port,
for that may chance to be a tedious time; and if they
should tell you that we have gone to the bottom, heed
not that; for you shall find me here notwithstanding.
Aretina.
But tell me, whence is the treasure?
Spadone.
For the gold, it comes out of the bowels of
the earth. The diamonds were digged up in the further
Ind. Touching the pearls, thou shalt ask of an oyster;
and in respect of the jewels, a toad could tell thee
somewhat. Hark! I hear the Mate bellowing for me through
the caverns like a calf that has lost its dam. Fare you
well!
Aretina.
Here then we meet when you return. Farewell.
[Exit Spadone.
And for the gold you boast of, whence it comes
You know not better than I know myself.
It is Silisco's gold. Whither it goes,
You know not better—nor so well. In trust
For him I'll take it. Falsehood to the false
Is woman's truth, and fair fidelity.
Scene IV.
—The Sea-shore near Palermo.—Silisco and Ruggiero.Silisco.
With what a saucy, blithe, and buxom grace
She breasts the blushing waters. Fare thee well,
Thou good ship Zita.
Ruggiero.
But the wind that speeds
That outward-bound, baffles this homeward bark;
She cannot cross the bar; and what is that?
Look there—a boat is pushing from her side
To bring her charge ashore.
Silisco.
The richest freight
That ever Procida produced, they say,
This Countess is—heiress to all the wealth
Of old Ubaldo. Is she fair beside?
Ruggiero.
Indeed she is.
Silisco.
As fair as she that comes
In her fair company?
Ruggiero.
As Fiordeliza?
In my allegiance, I must answer, No;
Yet each is in her kind supremely fair.
Silisco.
Thou painter, poet, moralist, what not?
Show me their pictures—say them, sing them, paint them.
Ruggiero.
Painting is perilous when the proof is near;
Yet take, to pass the time, some rude attempt.
Silisco.
First for the island Countess.
Ruggiero.
First for her:
In the rich fulness of a rounded grace,
Noble of stature, with an inward life
Of secret joy sedate, Rosalba stands,
Like a majestic child, without a want.
She speaks not often, but her presence speaks,
And is itself an eloquence, which withdrawn,
It seems as though some strain of music ceased
That fill'd till then the palpitating air
With soft pulsations; when she speaks indeed,
'Tis like some one voice eminent in the choir,
Heard from the midst of many sweetly clear,
With thrilling singleness, yet just accord.
So heard, so seen, she moves upon the earth
Unknowing that the joy she ministers
Is aught but Nature's sunshine.
Silisco.
Call you this
The picture of a woman or a Saint?
When Cimabue next shall figure forth
The hierarchies of heaven, we'll give him this
To copy from. But said you, then, the other
Was fairer still than this?
Ruggiero.
I may have said it;
I should have said she's fairer in my sight.
Yet must mine eyes be something worse than blind
And see the thing that is not, if the hand
Of Nature was not lavish of delights
When she was fashion'd. But it were not well
To blazon her too much; for mounted thus
In your esteem, she might not hold her place,
But fall the farther for the fancied rise.
And when you see them you may think them worse
Than I, who know, or think I know, their scope.
She gives her moods the mastery, and flush'd
With quickenings of a wild and wayward wit,
Flits like a firefly in a tangled wood,
Restless, capricious, careless, hard to catch,
Though beautiful to look at.
Silisco.
By my faith
She's a wild growth, to judge her by her fruits,
For she torments you vilely. Prudent friend,
Rosalba being what you say, why fix
Your heart on Fiordeliza?
Ruggiero.
Wherefore? why?
When hearts are told by number, weight, and measure,
I'll render you a reason for my love;
Till then, I say it was my luck to love her;
Ill luck or good, I know not yet. For you,
I would it were your luck to love Rosalba,
So you might wed her; but the rumour is
That she is brought from Procida to be given
To old Count Ugo.
Silisco.
Good old man, he's welcome;
A simpler-hearted creature never lived
To put on spectacles and see the world
Grow wise and honest, and I wish him joy.
And I will take example by him too
I'll live as heretofore and take delight
In God's creation revell'd in at large
And not this work or that.
Ruggiero.
So do; 'tis best
So long as it suffices. See how fast
The light skiff shoots along; a few pulls more
Shall bring them in.
Silisco.
Now show me which ... oh! she
In the red scarf is Fiordeliza.
Ruggiero.
Yes;
They know me now and kiss their hands. At first
You'll think Rosalba fairer.
Silisco.
By my faith
If what I there behold be flesh and blood
Nature can fashion counterfeits of Saints
More cunningly than you; in Nature's right
My hasty commendation I recall
And say your picture was as cold as clay
And colour'd from the vapours of the north.
Ruggiero.
Easy your oars, good coxswain! way enough!
A thousand welcomes! Ladies, if the hearts
That leap to meet you.....
Silisco.
Make you footing sure;
Jump out my lads and steady her ... there .... so.
Ruggiero.
Oh my good Lord, the King has miss'd you much.
Ubaldo.
Has he, Sir, truly? well, he's kind; but we
That will have children, are enforced at times,
Losing the courtier's in the father's office,
To dance attendance on a chit like this.
Bring the goods after. To the palace; come.
Fiordeliza.
Kind ocean, fare thee well! I would that earth
Demean'd herself no worse. I'll stamp upon her.
Ruggiero.
What is your quarrel, Lady, with the earth,
Are not her titles equal to the ocean's?
Fiordeliza.
The earth breeds men, Sir, but the ocean fish.
Ubaldo.
Rosalba, are you lost? Come on, come on.
I crave your pardon, Sir, I should have known you;
My Lord of Malespina, if I err not;
In health, I hope, Sir? Ah, Sir! youth and strength—
We prize them when they're gone; we prize them then.
Silisco.
I thank you, Sir, I thank you; I am well;
I wish you a good voyage.
Ubaldo.
God be praised,
Our voyage, which was very good, is done.
When duty calls you to the palace, think
Of the old Chamberlain; in sooth, my Lord,
We shall most gladly greet you. Fare you well.
[Exeunt all but Silisco.
Silisco.
I answer'd like an idiot. So I felt;
Doubtless so look'd. Can I not lose my heart
But I must lose my understanding too?
Count Ugo! He's a gallant light and gay
To what I seem'd—a very dullard I,
If not a dotard. Can a man so change
In less than fifty years, and be himself
And yet withal belie the self he was
An hour—a minute, I might say—before?
But we shall meet again—perhaps to-morrow—
And I'll shake off the stupor of to-day
And be my better self. To-morrow! yes—
I am not in my nature what I seem'd—
That all Palermo's tongues will testify—
And there is that within me springing now
Shall testify it better. Hope and Joy,
My younger sisters, you have never yet
Been parted from my side beyond the breadth
Of a slim sunbeam, and you never shall;
Already it is loosen'd, it is gone,—
The cloud, the mist; across the vale of life
The rainbow rears its soft triumphal arch
And every roving path and brake and bower
I know this world is richer than I thought
By something left to it from paradise;
I know this world is brighter than I thought,
Having a window into heaven. Henceforth
Life has for me a purpose and a drift.
| The Virgin Widow ; or, A Sicilian Summer | |