 | Salvator, the Poor Man of Naples |  |
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ACT II.
Scene I.
—Aversa. Interior of the Celestine Monastery.Enter Terlizi, Evoli, and Balzo.
Terlizi.
God's Virtue, man! I say, it was a wonder
Vesuvius kept his temper, such an Earthquake
Fretting his roots; and Naples were not buried
In burning lava. Little I thought that ever
We should the city quit; yet here are we,
In the Celestine Monastery at Aversa—
Evoli.
Good fifteen miles away from Naples, Count!
Furthest the best from perilous place and time,
The death and ruin—
Balzo.
Falling where they did!
Good honest people suffered. Those six galleys,
That sank in sight with all that they contained,
A lawful crew and cargo! The slave galley,
Crowded with convicts, triumphed o'er the tempest,
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By summary drowning—
Terlizi.
Heaven forfend, good sir—
Not while Salvator was on board, I trust:
'Twas for his sake the vessel was preserved!
Enter Giulio.
How come you now, young Giulio?
Giulio.
A newsbearer.
From the exhaustion of that dreadful night,
And from the couch it long time doomed him to,
Salvator has arisen, much restored.
Terlizi.
Has he left Naples?
Giulio.
Yes—and will come hither.
He is preceded by Durazzo's Duke,
And the Princess Maria, whom I met,
And parted from in haste, to'inform you of it.
Terlizi.
This news will glad my wife, thrown out of cheer
By politic necessity, which made
Her tendance here upon their Majesties
A paramount regard. Her dimned eye
Will kindle with renewed intelligence,
When once more it beholds him.
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Duke.
We would hail you,
In this religious refuge. Well, we hope
The pre-appointments for the coronation
Of our good Queen, are happily accomplished.
Terlizi.
Why not the King?
Duke.
Crowned he will be of course,
Being her husband. Would 'twere otherwise!
For me, I feel no life within my soul,
While blood is in his veins!
Geronimo
(within.)
Pax vobis! benedicite!
Duke.
A voice I hate to hear!
Enter Geronimo.
Geronimo.
Will none reply,
And greet my “benedicite” with welcome?
Duke.
Your presence would denote the Countess' father
Is not far distant—
Balzo.
There is stir within,
As if the Countess had had notice too—
Duke.
Pri'thee, see to it.
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Willingly.
[Exit Balzo.
Terlizi.
How is it with Salvator?
Duke.
Somewhat wroth,
The Countess should have left him, with the Court,
After such service; nor would he have followed,
But his grand-daughter, Sancha, has most strangely
Won on his fancy—
Re-enter Balzo.
Balzo.
'Tis Roberto entered,
And has had speech with Andreas—
Duke.
Whereat, what?—
Balzo.
The Countess raised a cry of “Treason!—But
They come—and, in alarm, the Queen!
Enter Queen, Philippa, Sancha, Roberto, Andreas, and Attendants.
Duke.
Heaven guard
Your Majesty with loyal zeal and wisdom,
With lynx-eyed vigilance, such as still attends
In person of your angel.
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Thank you, Duke—
Yet nothing say in hatred 'gainst my lord.
Duke.
Nothing, if nothing for himself he says—
He's silent.
Queen.
Scorning answer. He has right
To speak to whom he will, with whom he will
Be silent.
Duke.
Please your Majesty—
Queen.
I'm not pleased—
I know not whether to be pleased or vexed!
Sister, Maria! come with me apart!
[They withdraw and converse.
Duke.
What shout was that?
Evoli.
Salvator has arrived
In sight, my lord! The poor without the gates
Look on him as their saint, and thus announce him.
Duke.
Even so?—'Tis well! Now then, you plotting monks,
The Lazzari, if things but keep their train,
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As troublesome to Naples, as the dogs
At night are to Constantinople!
Roberto.
Shrewd
And travelled duke! you're merry!
Duke
(to Philippa.)
Countess! come— (They converse apart.)
Ye pair of curs! (To Roberto and Geronimo.)
the bone of strife ye covet,
Snarl o'er together!
Roberto.
Duke! most merry Duke!
Look well, lest magic prove no laughing matter!
A viperous generation! Wizard, both
Abuse the sense! He saves the lives of wretches
From drowning, by his presence! She with hers
Usurps authority, and makes Queens her puppets!
Queen.
Irreverend monk! beware! or I will show you,
I am a Queen, indeed! Of all men, thou,
At least, shalt know it!
Philippa.
Madam, silent scorn
Befits him best; he may be left to perish
Of his convicted guilt!
Roberto.
Rail on! words kill not,
Save when by pious lips they're rightly uttered!
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Thine?
Roberto.
Mine! that have already prophesied—
Beware, lest now they speak anathema!
Ye laugh—from ribald scorners, I appeal
To royal Andreas. He will silence break,
In my behoof.
Andreas.
No! for thy blasting! Thou,
Insidious friar! hast sown dissention 'twixt
My Queen and me! As on a serpent's head,
I place my heel on thine—
Robeto.
If this were true,
Thine heel were wounded; I but fondle it,
Albeit, ingrate, with unreturned caresses.
Andreas.
Henceforth, thou'rt as a scorpion in my mind;
And what seemed pious in thee, now appears
But as the pitiablest ruin, like
The perished beauty on a harlot's cheek!
Queen.
Monk! thou hast had thine answer. We forgive
Thy former insolence and infamy:
Live to repent—but be it far from us,
In convent, cell, or desart hermitage,
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(To Philippa.)
My best adviser, counsellor, and friend,
Dear Countess! fret no more, because of him;
But rule for us, in Naples!
[They all withdraw, and converse in groups, leaving Roberto and Geronimo in front.
Roberto.
Mark them, brother!
They do conspire together! Mark you well,
That Andreas stands apart! Look! do you note it?
Geronimo.
(taking out a Table-Book).
Ay, and have writ it down.
Roberto.
'Tis well—'tis well!
Plain, he knows not what they commune about—
Neither does Hugh del Balzo. Leave me now
For Balzo, brother; whisper in his ear,
To note it too.
Geronimo.
I will.
[Goes up to Balzo, and converses with him apart. Shouts, without.
Roberto.
Salvator comes:
The Lazzari shout again.
Duke.
'Tis so, indeed.
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Let me be first to meet him!
Queen.
Nay, 'twere seemly,
That ye should meet alone. All else withdraw.
Come, princes; follow us!
Philippa.
Sancha! stay with me!
[Exeunt omnes, except Philippa and Sancha.
Enter Salvator, followed by Beppo, Ghino, and Zeppa.
Salvator.
No further, friends! I must be private now!
I thank you! Let me pray, that you will leave me.
Beppo.
You are our saint; it is for us to pray.
Ghino.
Pray you for us!
Zeppa.
Our prayers we leave with you!
[Exeunt.
Salvator.
Bring me a chair.
Sancha.
Here, sir.
Salvator
(sits.)
What! you, fair grandchild!
[embracing Sancha, who kneels.)
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Besides abandoned me, then summoned you
Away from my sick couch! Still have you lived
At my heart's core; ay, snugly lodged, as dreams are
'Twixt the eyelids and the eyes!
Philippa.
'Twas not my will
That called me from you; duty to the Queen
And state of Naples—
Salvator.
O, my old brain is weary,
I cannot argue—
Philippa.
If I have transgressed,
I'll kneel—
Salvator
(still seated).
No—not to me! Thou art a Countess!
What, though I'm honest, I am poor, my lady;
Though old, not overwise; experience, merged
In senile weakness and oblivious age—
I've done with action; it is time I should!
One only wish I had, and that's fulfilled—
To clasp, (to Sancha,)
fair child! thy neck as now I do,
And see my daughter in thee, as she was
In days long past;—those I could understand,
Of these I'm ignorant. Now I know her not!
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If ever I intended slight to thee—
If aught less than my service to my country
Compelled the voice of nature to be silent,
Then let the Father of us all discard me!
Salvator.
Yet Nature is than service elder far!
Perchance, a reason good for its neglect!
Philippa.
No! by the sacred honor of my soul!
No! by the God that I have worshiped always!
Salvator.
Thou sayest well; and, doubtless, meanest well!
All spiritual elevations triumph over
The natural feeling, or transfigure it
Into a glorious likeness of themselves.
I know thou meanest well! I know thy goodness!
Philippa.
Thou dost? I thank the saints!
Salvator.
The wrong thou'st done,
Is custom's wrong, not thine—
Philippa.
Why?
Salvator.
How blind
Are we to truth! or if we apprehend it,
Do so with singular inversion, such
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Not coming from the clouds. Look thou to Heaven,
Not grope below, for Truth!
Philippa.
I'll look to thee—
Be thou Heaven's image to me!
Salvator.
Listen, then.
Had I been rich and noble, and had shown
The knowledge and the promptitude to act,
Wherewith, in her emergency, I saved
The peace of Naples;—then had the feat been lauded
In courtly ears, which o'er my lips had leaned
To catch their whisper as an oracle—
Then (though you may deceive yourselves, to think
Now otherwise) had both the Queen and you
My counsel sought, ere you removed from Naples.
And if ye had—
Philippa.
What, if we had?
Salvator.
You said,
What I had done, had saved the City, but
Had perilled you. Such peril, haply, I
Might have averted, if forsaken not.
Others forsook me not! Those treacherous monks
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Still seem my friends, and to the poor and humble,
The Lazzari of Naples, blazoned me,
As if I were their tutelary saint,
Their guardian-angel; and therewith prevailed,
That even my disclaimer only wrought
On their belief the more!
Philippa.
What comes of this?
Salvator.
I know not, save the need of vigilance;
Which now I cannot give!
Sancha.
Look! he is ill
Again. How pale his brow! how cold his hand!
O, Countess! call for help!
Philippa.
Ourselves will help him.
We know not who are traitors.—O, Salvator!
Would I had ne'er been otherwise than poor!
Humble, and mean of rank!
Sancha.
Ha! he revives—
His colour comes—he warms—
Philippa.
If he can walk,
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You rise, my Father? Speak!
Salvator.
Ay, daughter.
Philippa.
Well—
But gently—lean on me. Your Sancha's arms
Are round you too. Ah, now you smile—and make
Me happy. There's a couch in the next chamber!
[They lead him out.
Scene II.
—Garden of the Monastery.Enter Roberto.
Roberto.
Hurled from the seat of power, like Lucifer,
My soul is wild as Chaos, wroth as Hell,
And claims that vengeance which belongs to Heaven,
As Heaven's vicegerent! Sure and speedy vengeance!
A word for thunder, but the lightning's flash,
While it is speaking, strike—if not before!
Ungrateful cur! thou'st not another day,
Andreas! to live! Now, but to fix the guilt
Of his off-taking on my other foes,
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Most instant vengeance! ere the eye can wink,
Function respire, or intellection think!—
How now, Geronimo?
Enter Geronimo.
Have you wrought up
The Lazzari to our purpose?
Geronimo.
Be at ease:
I have a knot of fellows, who believe,
In taking Andreas' life, they rid the Queen
Of a loathed burthen, and the Poor Man's Friend
Of an implacable and powerful foe.
Roberto.
Here comes Durazzo! I must play the fawner,
And catch him in the meshes of our net.
Hypocrisy alone can veil our treason!
Go to your task—how shall I know your man?
Geronimo.
A Courier from Naples is the part
He plays—
Roberto.
Is he well up?
Geronimo.
Depend upon it.
[Exit.
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Duke.
How fares it with you now, Roberto?
Roberto.
Better
Than ever—
Duke.
So! Indeed?
Roberto.
Adversity
Is, to the soul that's pious, wholesomer
Than prosperous fortune to the wicked heart.
Duke.
A veritable saw. Then need to you
Is kinder than much wealth to Andreas.
Roberto.
The ungrateful ever is a mendicant.
Duke.
Another truth! Would'st be revenged?
Roberto.
On whom?
Duke.
On Andreas—
Roberto.
Not I, sir!
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Wouldst be reconciled?
Roberto.
Neither—I leave the issues in High hands!
Duke.
Neither restored to favor, nor revenged?
I took you for a worse or wiser man—
Good-bye!
[Exit.
Roberto.
Aha! Durazzo's hatred
To Andreas, seething long, boils over now!
He seeks the toils, and runs upon the springe!
He would conspire—with me. He shall conspire—
But not with me! It is about the hour,
When that the seneschal and his household come,
For recreation, to these convent-gardens;
Doubtless, Durazzo, too, will walk with them.
—He never hath concealed his enmity,
Which makes him level lie to artifice,
And what just now he said to me commits him.
Out of my motive for like enmity,
Hopes and designs they fancy and create,
Which do as surely lead them to their ruin,
As the wanton's steps to death!
Re-enter Duke of Durazzo, with Terlizi, Evoli, and Giulio.
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Here still, Roberto?
Roberto.
I am at prayers—for my enemies.
Terlizi.
A pious exercise—but who are they?
Roberto.
Ye were; but now, ye think, we row together
In the same vessel 'gainst a common foe.
Duke.
Think? Is't not so?
Roberto.
Why—yes—if so ye think—
Ye worldly men let the conceit grow on you,
That all that saints must needs account poor shadow
Is life's substantial pith. Still live to think so!
Duke.
And you to pray?
Terlizi.
And not to eat? or drink?
—Or sleep?
Roberto.
Yes, on our injuries!—'Tis best!
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And hint a braver vengeance—
Duke.
Hear you? (to Terlizi.)
Roberto
(aside).
They
Are caught! Are ye the men would read the Sphinx?
Duke.
If you are honest, I would have you speak
As man, and not as priest. What mystery?
If you've an interest in saying, “No”—
And yet say, “Yes;” what wonder it should be
With such an inverse emphasis, that wholly
Wanting the force of “Yes;” it nothing lacks
In the effect of “No”!—
Roberto.
Now, you have said!—
Enter Geronimo.
What would you here?
Geronimo.
A Courier from Naples
Waits on Durazzo—
Duke.
Strange! Without? Alone?
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No; there are two or three attend with him!
[Exit Duke of Durazzo.
Terlizi.
What news can come from Naples to the Duke?
Roberto.
Methinks, he half-expected it; for, lo,
He meets it half way—and in secret, too!
I here protest me, before Heaven, I like not
Such latent practice!
Terlizi.
Practice? Tush, there's none—
Roberto.
If't be, I'm quit on't—
Re-enter Duke of Durazzo, with Courier, and two others. (Beppo, Ghino, and Zeppa, so disguised.)
Duke.
You are mistaken, friar;
They want the royal Andreas, and not me.
They have despatches for him. That's your way—
That gallery leads to the Queen's apartment;
His chamberlain will bring you to her consort.
[Exeunt Courier and Companions
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You plot it well!
Duke.
I do not understand you—
Roberto.
Then you're as much a mystery to yourself,
As I am to you. Truly, you are strange—
One knows not what to make of you—
Terlizi.
You're mad!
[Turning away indignantly.
Roberto.
Indeed!— (to Geronimo.)
Your Table-book!
Hast writ it down?
Geronimo.
Look here, yourself!
Roberto.
Enough—away!
[Exit Geronimo.
[Shrieks heard from the Monastery. Cries of “Help! Murder! Help!”
Ah! cries
Of “Help!” and “Murder!” Who were they, Durazzo,
You showed to royal Andreas?
Duke.
Search the gallery!
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Philippa.
Wonder and horror! Stop the Assassins! Andreas
Is murdered!
Duke.
Let me pass!
[Hurries out.
Philippa.
Celestial Watchers!
And do ye wink at this? or have ye slept?
All-knowing Powers! if ye would have us trust you,
Divulge—o'ertake the Traitor!
Re-enter Duke of Durazzo.
Roberto.
See him there!—
Thou'st now thy wish, Durazzo!
Duke
(drawing).
For thy life! (Seizing Roberto.)
Monk, or else fiend! be mute! 'Tis true, my friends,
That malice, or just Heaven, hath avenged
The wrongs of Italy on the Hungarian!
Terlizi.
The Assassins have escaped?
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They were the swifter,
And had advantage of the distance—
Roberto.
Doubtless—
Duke.
Again—and I will slay you!
Roberto.
Let me go, then!
Duke.
Go—with my scorn!
[Releases Roberto.
Philippa.
Some one should tell the Queen! They called him forth
From her apartment by a special message;
Then, in the gallery, seized and strangled him!
Evoli.
The alarm has brought the Queen.
Enter Queen and Attendants, followed by Salvator.
Philippa.
O, royal mistress!
Queen.
Wherefore this tumult?
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Heaven! thou know'st it not!
Thy royal lord is murdered!
Queen.
What?—impossible!
How? and by whom?
Philippa.
We know not! Madam!
Grow not to marble! Help the Queen!
[The Queen becomes cataleptic with horror.
Salvator.
What! Andreas!
Murdered! Assassination! Are ye Christian?
Or is the Court a vampyre carnival?
Cannot it be but so? And ye the fiends,
That play your damned parts in it, and torture
The one the other, haply, for your sport?
Is there nor Charity, nor Piety,
In any bosom; but mock reverence,
Precedence feigned, and homage for the nonce;
But when the back is turned, the dagger's out?
I've heard of such things, but believed them not;
But 'tis no slander—'tis no prejudice—
This is the Court, and here doth Murder revel!
Forgive them, God! who rule us in thy name,
Since heavy sins have they to answer for!
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What means your sire, Philippa? Surely, he
Suspects not men of honorable rank,
Of crime like this? No! You have to be taught,
Salvator, 'tis the mean of birth, the poor
In their estate, who rob and slay for hire;
Not men of wealth and ancestry.
Salvator.
Wherefore so?
Duke.
For they have all to gain, since all they want.
Salvator.
Why want they all, unless ye first have robbed them?
If so—no wonder ye are robbed in turn!
Duke.
Would you, suspicion then should fall on you,
You hold such language? Better hold your peace!
Salvator.
Suspect you me?
Duke.
Not I, old man! This busy life
With you is passed too far, that we should look
To you for that same death you daily dread
To make acquaintance with. This matter's, truly,
Beyond your scope;—that's all. Look to the Queen—
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She has recovered.
Duke.
Say you so? Her limbs
Are stiff and rigid!
Philippa.
Ha! speak, your Majesty!
Duke.
Dumb hath the sudden horror stricken her!
We must remove her. 'Tis with her no more
Than if she slept! Let's in; we have need of counsel.
[Exeunt omnes, except Roberto and Salvator.
Roberto.
You see, there's more in statecraft than you wist.
Salvator.
O, maxims crooked! Science indirect!
Mere cunning, and not knowledge! Policy
Not born of wisdom—spawn of desperate Wit!
Leave me—
Roberto.
Leave you? Why, well! All leave the Poor
They not suspect; and give them tendance only,
When they have need to guard them, ere they punish
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To waste much speech on you.
[Exit.
Salvator
(alone).
Heart of the World!
Sure, thou hast ceased to beat; for mine is still,
As Death alone lived in the universe!
O care! O pain! O grief! I little knew
Philippa's heavy yoke! no more reproaches!
Amid this lodge of maniacs, being sane,
I seem the only mad! Not virtue rules!
Murder is prince o' the air! No wonder, then,
That earth has suffered time-long tyrrany!
I thank my God, that he hath left me poor,
Humble of station, and unprivileged
Of any order that marks man from man
As something other, whether more or less,
Angel or devil; for religion's self,
By privilege perverted, mocks at merit,
And makes him hypocrite who were a saint.
O den of wealth and power! Come forth, therefrom,
Philippa! noble, wise, belovëd daughter!
Ingenious, diligent, much-injured daughter!
Beneficent, and honest, yet betrayed!
Traitors and villains, authorised and crowned,
Lie still for thee in wait!—thy every step
Is by a pitfall dug by jealousy,
Snares, gins, and traps beset thee round about!
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It spreads a pestilential atmosphere
Of lies, no honest soul can breathe and live!
Change but a monastery to a palace,
(We have example here,) but for a week,
Less than a week, a day, an hour, a minute,
What once was heaven is turned at once to hell;
And Atheist Murder on the altar sits,
Ape-like agrin, and sips a bloody chalice!
Come forth, I say!—Ha! ha! thou art accused
Of witchcraft; but thou canst have none like theirs—
They have the magic—they, the true “Black Art”—
Not thou;—by aid whereof they do usurp
Upon all natural rights, all sympathies
Of human love, all elements of truth,
And make such havoc both of good and evil,
That the Eternal needs must strike, to chaos,
The world, to recreate it!
I must hence—
Let me reflect. Upon thy pleasant waters,
Native Catania! for my life's brief remnant,
Haply, my spirit may find peace again—
I'll seek my daughter. Would that she, and hers,
Might quit with me, for ever, the false tower,
That hath for her been built beside the throne,
Ere it shall sink into the expectant flood,
That boils, unseen, unheard, beneath them both!
[Exit.
END OF SECOND ACT.
| Salvator, the Poor Man of Naples | |