University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

—Interior of the Ducal Palace.
Beltran,
alone.
By this time, as I think, did Frankendall
Look to return. Methought the princely chicken,
The double-delicate Ignatio,
Look'd droopingly the while; yea, and his donship,
The favourite owl, Giovanni, through his gravity
Betray'd an anxious watchfulness. There's something
Yet to be known. Would Frankendall were come!
If that same smooth-brow'd Sanzio be the casket
That locks their secret, Florence to a zechin
We find the spring.—Within there!

Enter Pablo.
PABLO.
Save your highness.

BELTRAN.
Is Frankendall come back?

PABLO.
Not yet, my lord.

BELTRAN.
When he returns, he'll find me here; and you,
Pablo, take care we are not interrupted;
Our conference is of weight. You mark me, sir?
I'll have no listeners nor interlopers;
So look to it.

PABLO.
I shall, my lord.
[Exit Pablo.

BELTRAN.
'Tis well.
Commend me to that dish of curds and cream—
That slippery Sanzio! If they've trusted him,
The promise of some office where the gains
Something outweigh the pains, and he is ours,
Or else I cannot spell. There is one man
He loves above all men; and that man is
Even honest Master Sanzio. Ay, self, self,
The moral atheist, that sees nothing in
The universe but self! Nor honesty,
No, nor e'en fear, shall be of power to quiet
That wicked itching of the palm for gold.—
I have known the time I should have somewhat stammer'd
Ere I had ta'en this course. Did not ambition
Absorb all other feelings, as the sunbeams
Eat out the weaker fires, I'd stumbled at it.—

Enter Frankendall.
Welcome. Thou look'st as if thou hadst brought news.

FRANKENDALL
sings.
“He set up his oaths like skittles,
His vow like a wickett in sight;
But the devil he took up the game,
And bowl'd them down with a doit.”

BELTRAN.
Sleek Signor Sanzio then's a sieve; is't so?

FRANKENDALL.
Ay, and why not, my lord? Think you, he's honest,
Because he smooths his foretop o'er his forehead,
And drops his eye-lids when he meets his patron,
And smirks whene'er he speaks to a great man,
And lisps and minces all his words out edge-ways?
Your tufted jay is not the only rogue;
Others can rob an orchard.

BELTRAN.
Nay, not I;
I guess'd but even now what thou would'st tell me.
But come; particulars, particulars!
What hast thou learn'd?

FRANKENDALL.
A world of news, my lord.
Shall I begin at the north pole or the south?

BELTRAN.
Even where thou wilt, so thou forgettest none.
Thou'lt be as long in telling of this world,
As I should be in circumnavigating't.

FRANKENDALL.
Then, in one breath, I have unearth'd a marriage.

BELTRAN.
A marriage!—Well, what mare's nest hast thou found?
Who's married?

FRANKENDALL.
Who!—The Prince Ignatio.

BELTRAN.
That news is something stale. What dost thou mean?

FRANKENDALL.
I mean, my lord, that he's been knit these three years;
Ay, more; 'twas ere his brother Cosmo sicken'd.
You stare. Depend on't, you shall find it so;
A marriage—both in truth and courtesy;
A left hand love-knot, call'd in Germany;
One of those matches which Heaven ratifies,
But which the devil can break—I mean the lawyer:
'Tis good in every thing, save statute law,
And that's but ticklish neither.

BELTRAN.
What a whirl
Of circumstance and supposition's this!
Cannot thy story travel on its road
Without upraising such a cloud of comment?
Thou pour'st it like fresh Champagne from the bottle,
Liquor and froth at once, and most o' the last.

FRANKENDALL.
Nay, nay; your highness e'en must let me tell
My story my own way; or we shall botch it.

BELTRAN.
Do so, in God's name! only stick to facts;
And if I breathe one word of interruption,
Cut short my curiosity in the midst,
Or starve it for a twelvemonth.

FRANKENDALL.
Done, my lord;
A bargain. Does your highness hap to know
Where stands the Prince's villa, an hour's journey
Above the city, where the river idles
And spreads itself round many a tufted island,
And the commingling boughs and wanton blossoms
Stoop to the lucid pools to kiss themselves,
Like children o'er a mirror, or young maids
O' the bridal morn, who laugh at their own blushes?

BELTRAN.
I guess the spot thou talk'st of, but knew not
That Prince Ignatio had a villa there.

FRANKENDALL.
In name. It seems it is a perquisite
Of that grave sage, the favourite Giovanni;
'Tis a sweet scene; whether at languid noon,
When the still current, 'mid the varied islets,
Seems chased with fairy gold; or at still midnight,
When the bright moon besilvers the glass'd waters,
And in them views herself with more delight
Than e'er she did in her Endymion's eyes
Upon hush'd Latmos' peak.

BELTRAN.
Now, plague be on thee,
Dost think that thou art prating to some limner?
What's all this stuff to me?

FRANKENDALL.
Pause you, my lord—
Just where the villa fronts the spreading stream,
Midway, upon an isle, there stands a temple,
Minerva's called. Thither the Prince Ignatio
Will oft-times oar himself, in a light skiff,
For studious purpose.

BELTRAN.
Well?

FRANKENDALL.
Marry, my lord,
For one who hath respect for the wise goddess,
He puts her sanctity to a curious office.

BELTRAN.
What office, Frankendall?

FRANKENDALL.
A go-between's.
She only helps him to an earthly goddess,
Less cold, God wot, and prudent than herself.
There is a cottage on the further brink,
Bosom'd in wood, to which an arched walk
Leads only; there his highness makes a trip,
Sometimes by moonlight too, as worthies use
Who dabble in the contraband—You take me?

BELTRAN.
Now, blessings on thee, thou hast come at last
To the point indeed; but is this veritable?
The marriage matter—art thou sure of that?
Or if thou art, is't valid?

FRANKENDALL.
Why, that point
The gownsmen must decide. They married, certain,
To all intents; but then the old politic Duke
Has long enacted that his blood shall wed not
Without his high consent—all's moonshine else—
And like enough the Pope may back him out;
He knows the trick to manage the church, well.

BELTRAN.
No matter, it will do as 'tis; (aside)
or else
I'm wide o' the mark. Let her but know of this,
(And she shall know it,) and her soft-voiced mate
May shroud himself i'th'case of some base viol—
She'll play the true Italian. I will set
About it instantly, and find some way.
(Aloud.)
Hark, Frankendall— (Aside)
—no puttings off for me;
I, who have had small fair play with the world,
Will make myself amends. They are but fools
Who pick, and cull, and boggle at events;
He who would reap, and gather a full garner,
Must take both tares and wheat.— (Aloud.)
What would'st thou say?
(Aside.)
Ay, sheave them when the sun shines. (Aloud.)
Well, what wouldst thou?

FRANKENDALL.
Your highness' pleasure—You did speak, my lord.

BELTRAN.
True, so I did. Didst thou inquire aught further?

FRANKENDALL.
I did, my lord; and have discover'd that
Which is point-blank to the business—he intends
To visit her this night.

BELTRAN.
Thou art the herald
That point'st the way to fortune; it is seal'd,
No moment shall be lost.
I've thought upon it.
Is thine informant—what's his name?—ay, Sanzio—
Is honest Sanzio here at hand?

FRANKENDALL.
He is
Within five minutes' message.

BELTRAN.
Call him, then;
But set me ink and paper first. Stay, Frankendall;
Art sure this traitor has not a false bottom
On both sides, as your juggler's caskets have?

FRANKENDALL.
Not in this case, my lord.
[Exit Frankendall.

BELTRAN.
Go, bring him, then.—
Now for a scrawl of some mysterious sort,
Dimly to shadow mischief. Hints, dark hints,
Like mirky nooks, are still most dangerous.
I have it.
[He writes.
“Most honour'd lady,
This from one who loves you.
You think yourself the Prince Ignatio's wife;
So thinks the world, or some of it at least;
Be sure of it. She that can best resolve you,
Must be sought westward, by the Arno's side.
The Prince, your husband, shall to-day be ill
(At ease)—to-night still worse. Let this betoken
I am no lying Sibyl—so beware,
Or else your realm and you may chance repent—
One that loves truth, and honours Leonora.”—
Is not this barb'd? They are return'd already.
Enter Frankendall and Sanzio.
Your servant, sir. Hark hither, Frankendall.
(Aside to Frankendall.)
O'erlook this scrawl; 'tis mystical enough!

FRANKENDALL.
It is indeed.

BELTRAN.
In character and meaning?

FRANKENDALL.
Both; both.

BELTRAN.
Why, then, to get it safe convey'd.
—Sir, my attendant has already told me
How much I am bound to you. I shall not pause
To trust you further. Nay, no ceremony—
I know your services, and shall requite them.
I would convey this paper to the Princess—
Justice and strong allegiance both demand it—
Yet not be seen in it—you understand me?
Can you encompass this?

SANZIO.
I can, my lord;
So please your highness trust me; on the instant.
Each day a throng of supplicants attend
To see the Princess pass, that they may tender
Some small petitions, as the custom is;
I'll find a trusty agent, who shall wait
'Midst this obtrusive crowd, and pass this paper
E'en to her highness' hand. Let it be superscribed,
As packets are that bring intelligence
Of moment and of weight; and our conveyancer,
Th'important missile once deliver'd, shall
Not wait for questioning.

BELTRAN.
'Tis very well;
But can you do this now?

SANZIO.
E'en now, my lord.

BELTRAN.
Take it, and do it, then; and make thy fortune,
For it is writ in this. Go; lose no time.
[Exit Sanzio.
Now, Frankendall, whence comes this gravity?
Sits not this action easy on thy stomach?
Art thou turn'd scrupulous?

FRANKENDALL.
Not I, my lord;
'Tis not for me to turn a caviller,
Who ne'er could understand a subtlety.
I ever was a scurvy politician,
And ever shall. I love or hate a man;
And even tell him so; and there's an end
Of all my worldly lore.

BELTRAN.
I tell thee what,
There's no end of this moral squeamishness.
He that will fight the battle of the world—
And some must fight it—let him use the means
That are adopted by his adversaries.
He who will never taste of a repast
Till every bit be sauced unto his mind,
May famish for a fool. Who seeks for gold
Must take the dross—Who snatches at a rose
Must grasp it, thorns an' all. 'Twas ever thus;
Which of the worthies that have won dominion,
But leapt and waded for't. No more of this;
I did not think thou hadst been such a prude.
Where is the Paradise which holds this Eve
Who tempts Ignatio to forbidden fruit?

FRANKENDALL.
Above the city, where the orchards thicken
Into a wilder but still smiling forest,
Fast by the Arno's side.

BELTRAN.
Now, by my stars,
It was about that spot I met the eyes
That so enchanted me. If it were she,
There needed but this last provocative
To set the keen edge on my resolution.
Fate thrusts him in my way, turn where I will;
And he or I must down. Well, dignity
Steps with redoubled triumph, if revenge
Hold up her train. Follow me, Frankendall;
I'll to the Princess, and blow up the fuel
That Sanzio has put fire to.
[Exit Beltran.

FRANKENDALL.
In a thought
I follow you, my lord.
I can see well,
That, spite of all his specious arguments,
This action sits not easy on his spirit;
It will be always thus. Craving ambition,
Grasping, impatient like a passionate child,
Takes good and ill at once. He is a boy,
Who, in his haste to plant the treach'rous twigs
He has limed for some poor bird, daubs his own fingers.
Honour! they talk of thee; but thou wilt wink
Until ambition does his dirty work,
And after, hold the ewer to wash his hands!
I'll go no further here than my sworn duty
Compels me to. It is a road I like not.
[Exit Frankendall.

SCENE II.

—The Interior of the Duke's Palace.
Enter Leonora and Fiametta.
LEONORA.
If the Count Beltran shall attend upon me,
You may admit him. To none else, just now,
Can I give audience. Leave me; I would be
Some little space alone.
[Exit Fiametta.
(Unfolding a paper.)
It is the pest of birth still to be subject
To insolent scrawls like these, born of the plots
And machinations of the coarse attendance
That throngs the heels of greatness. Base-born wretches!
Now could I be indignant with myself,
To think that such a petty thing as this
Should ruffle me one moment. But they say
The smallest pebble, cast into the ocean,
Must alter its great surface. Nor can I
Forget, perforce, what I yet scorn to think:
And yet 'tis strangely levell'd. I have noted
The Prince oft struggles with a melancholy
Which he will not give tongue to; but his friend,
The Signor Giovanni, did assure me
Those clouds which sometimes pass across his mind,
Like skyey shadows o'er the mountain's side,
But prove its clearness, as the slightest breath
Will dim the brightest mirror.
Enter Beltran.
Count, this visit,
I trust, may be to you, as 'tis to me,
A pleasure.

BELTRAN.
Gracious Princess, to behold
Your happiness is still the sum of mine.

LEONORA.
My happiness?—What! is there such a word?
Count, you have soon forgot your moral lessons.

BELTRAN.
And well I may; for who would not forget,
Beholding one so fair who hath not learn'd them?
And may experience long defer the instruction!—
But Heaven forbid I have not preach'd too well;
What I forget, can you remember, madam?

LEONORA.
If I did not, I should be put in mind!

BELTRAN.
Impossible. Has aught disturb'd your highness?
Trust me, you look but pale; and pardon me
For daring thus to see it.

LEONORA.
Oh! 'tis nothing,
Or little; sooth, I have been just annoy'd—
Teazed beyond patience with the low petitions,
The courtesies and familiarity
Of a vile throng, that ever haunt the heels
Of those above them, who will stoop to them.
I marvel that the Prince Ignatio
Should bear such homely bondage.

BELTRAN.
Nay, your highness
May blame too hastily; he may be counsell'd;
Haply 'tis policy.

LEONORA.
If 'tis, I care not;
I shall not buy such love at such a rate;
And yet it may, for Signor Giovanni
Told me the Prince, more than his warlike father
With all his deeds, was met by popular praise.

BELTRAN.
No doubt! The Duke is fear'd as well as loved;
The—what's his name? Oh!—Signor Giovanni,
Whoe'er he be, might have remember'd that
In his wise estimate, as, if I knew him,
I should make bold to prompt him.

LEONORA.
If you knew him!
Your memory, Count, is doubtless sore oppress'd
With things of greater weight; but yet methinks
The Prince's friend need not be titled twice.

BELTRAN.
Your highness' pardon. Memory sometimes,
Like to a froward child, will cast away
Just what it ought not; else I had remember'd
The Signor Giovanni. Such a man,
Who, underneath the cloak of gravity,
Conceals so many virtues, gay ones too,
When they get holiday!

LEONORA.
Come, sir, this trifling
Is something ill-timed. Signor Giovanni
Hath been the Prince Ignatio's long tried friend;
And is his eldest.

BELTRAN.
I cry mercy, madam;
Far be it from me, e'er to impeach his worth.
No doubt—no doubt he is a trusty friend,
And useful too; a meet, scholastic comrade,
Of deep, and rare, and infinite endowment,
For one of studious habit, like his highness.
Surely I've heard—ay, now I think upon't—
I have heard it said 'twas difficult to tell
Who was the master of that pretty villa
The Prince laid out for him, fast by the Arno;
So constantly they shared it. It is sweet
To see a mind, which power and luxury court,
Thus bound to science, to deep contemplation,
And learning's chasten'd pleasures.

LEONORA.
Count, I shall not;
No, shall not condescend to think you dare
To trifle with me when I have forbidden it;
But yet your seriousness still speaks in riddles.
What is this villa—this companionship,
I mean—you talk so strangely of?

BELTRAN.
Nay, madam;
Now were it possible that the Princess could,
On any one occasion, condescend
To trifle with her subject, I should deem
That this were it—when she is pleased to ask
Where stands a paradise, to which all Italy
Can scarce produce a fellow! Plague upon't,
An if my dull stupidity has not marr'd
A pretty complot to surprise your highness.
I'll wager my poor revenue to a doit,
The Prince intended that this second Eden
Should not be known, till seen by her who only
Can be its worthy Queen.—Tongue, foolish tongue,
I e'en must curb thee, if thou bring'st me still
To these dilemmas!
Madam, sure your highness
Is something indisposed, for you grow pale.

LEONORA.
I am, indeed,—no; stir not. It is nothing—
'Tis nothing, sir—believe me.

BELTRAN.
Gracious madam,
I cannot think it nothing, when one instant
Can blanch the living roses of your cheek.

LEONORA.
A transient faintness—that was all. Retirement
Shall be a ready cordial.

BELTRAN.
Then permit me—
(Within there!)—let me hope it may—to be
No further interruption; rest your highness.

Enter Fiametta.
LEONORA.
I thank you, Count; anxiety's not needed—
I shall be well anon. To-night we hope
Your presence at the banquet.

FIAMETTA.
Please your highness
Now to retire?

LEONORA.
I do; attend upon me.

[Exeunt Leonora and Fiametta.
BELTRAN.
I've set the torch, and surely; for already
The flame begins to mount. Fev'rous suspicion,
On whose hot lids sleep sheds her dews in vain,
Shall never let it slacken. This brief transport,
Sudden and short, as suddenly subsiding,
Is only the first signal of the fire
That's kindled at the heart. 'Tis the precursor
Of other and more vehement stirrings up,
Until the untameable spirit shall o'erboil
Into some violent course. I know her nature;
'Tis like mine own. Sit fast, Ignatio;
And keep thy bride, or thou may'st lose thy dukedom.

[Exit.