 | Salvator, the Poor Man of Naples |  |
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ACT III.
Scene I.
—Naples. Royal Closet in Castel-Novo.Philippa and Terlizi discovered.
Philippa.
'Tis a strange humor! Go, Terlizi! set
Sancha to watch—
Terlizi.
I will.
Philippa.
In good time, look,
The Duke Durazzo comes.
[Exit Terlizi.
Enter Duke of Durazzo.
Duke.
How is the Queen?
Philippa.
Prince, from the stupor that long mantled her,
She has aroused, and is again herself—
Duke.
'Tis well—
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Not well—she is again herself,
But 'tis another self.
Duke.
Explain your riddle—
Philippa.
She will, forsooth, make sure against suspicion,
Henceforth, by trusting none. No hand but hers
Shall sway the realm.
Duke.
Sure, she suspects not you?
Philippa.
I know not; but enquiry full is making,
And heaven grant it may unmask the traitor.
Duke.
Who makes it?
Philippa.
Hugh del Balzo. To his zeal
The Queen has trusted all.
Duke.
Zeal without knowledge.
Philippa.
Nor will she meddle with it, so she vows,
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Louis of Hungary, her husband's brother,
Impeaches her of guilt, and threatens war,
Nay, makes it;—and, for insult, it would seem,
Refers decision of the suit between them
Unto Rome's Tribune, to Rienzi—he,
Of all the Powers that be, to arbitrate,
Whether the Queen of Naples slew her lord!
Therefore she keeps, retired, impartial state,
And Hugh del Balzo holds the inquisition.
Duke.
What proofs has he?
Re-enter Terlizi.
Philippa.
Roberto one, and one
Geronimo. The Monks had fled from Naples,
With the Hungarians, but were overtaken—
These make two famous witnesses!
Duke.
Enough! No time to lose.
Philippa.
What now?
Duke.
I am as one,
Who, rushing on a bull's horns unawares,
Is gored ere 'tis perceived. I must from Naples!
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Well know I Hugh del Balzo, He's a man
Who sees the form of things, but ne'er the substance—
Therefore, an instant farewell!
[Exit.
Terlizi.
This is strange—
Philippa.
'Tis very strange—yet I divine the secret.
But where's Salvator?
Terlizi.
He is resolved on leaving
Us and the Court together, but desires
To have a previous audience of the Queen.
Philippa.
Come with me, then. First, in the Library,
Some letters I would dictate; then will seek him.
[Exeunt.
Scene II.
—State Apartment.Salvator
alone (seated by a Column).
How long will Freedom tarry? and to Man,
Man other seem that in his Maker's eyes?
And Wealth and Power, that should be Virtue's badges,
Give Lewdness means to cater for itself,
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While Indignation sits aloof in Heaven,
Brooding in vain upon the wrongs of earth?
O! this it is, makes Conscience infidel,
And private Judgement beard Authority,
And stung Rebellion in revengeful hearts
Strike at usurped dominion! This it is,
Wherewith the womb of Nature groans in pain,
Till her deliverance come! O, Italy!
Even now thou'rt teeming with a mighty birth,
And Prophets hail thee both in speech and song;
Poets, who call thee by the name of Love,
And celebrate with passionate ecstasy;
And Orators, whose inspired eloquence
Would half create a people from the stones
That pave the City's streets. One, at this hour,
Is pleading, Rome! unto thy popular heart,
And thou art trembling as Rienzi speaks.
While Naples—O great Heaven! I must no more—
The hand of age is on me! Down, my soul!
Time was, when thoughts like these had been the throes
Of resolution; but abortive now
The travail of my once too pregnant mind!
Enter Sancha.
Sancha.
Salvator here?
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I wait the Queen, dear child!
Meseemed it were bad manners, should I quit
Her court, without again her presence seeking,
And bidding farewell to her Majesty.
Sancha.
You will, then, leave us?
Salvator.
Yes. Told you the Queen?
Sancha.
I have. Her Majesty is busy with
Letters from Louis, King of Hungary;
Nay, now is so disturbed, it were not meet
You should intrude. “Alas!” she says, “she has not
Shown you example of much courtesy—
She's shamed, indeed—O, most unhappy time!”
Salvator.
O, grief, indeed, to Naples!
Sancha.
More to her—
Have you not heard, that the Hungarian Louis
Charges our Mistress with his brother's murder,
Citing her to appear, and plead her cause,
Before Rome's Tribune, the upstart Rienzi?
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Girl! say you so? Rienzi—
Sancha.
Even he—
Salvator.
The noblest spokesman of the liberties
Of man, that ever thrilled man's raptured ear,
With speech more beautiful than song,—because
Its theme is music, and, being such itself,
Needeth not such for foreign ornament.
Sancha.
A Queen to plead her cause before a man,
Whose parents kept an inn, and washed for hire
The linen of their betters!
Salvator
(after a long pause).
Can it be?—
[Intently gazing at her.
Sancha.
What mean you, father?
Salvator.
Come, girl! tell me true—
Or rumour lies, or Petrarch oft has been
Guest at the Court of Naples?
Sancha.
Many a time—
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He was Rienzi's friend, while that Rienzi
Was servant unto others; Petrarch, girl!
Was this Rienzi's friend; and Petrarch was
Thought fit by your good Queen to grace her Court,
Being a scholar. Why should not Rienzi,
Being a scholar too, and Petrarch's friend,
Be worthy of a Court? He's now Rome's Tribune,
And might have been her King. And who art thou
That scorn'st his humble parentage?
Sancha.
The daughter
Of Count Evoli—
Salvator.
I have lived too long!
I thought you loved me, and my heart grew to you,
And blessed you, as you hovered round my couch.
Sancha.
Strange had it been, if bred in courts, I'd lacked
Of courtesy, where duty, sir, no less than
The Countess's commands, had bid me reverence.
Salvator.
Duty! commands!—not nature, and free love!
Now I could prophesy. The air around
Is full of spirits' voices, and their pressure
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To judge her cause, more than an honest man?
I, as an honest man, acquit her now;
Yet, were I named her judge, think you, she'd scorn
To take acquittal from me, not being Tribune,
Because I am an humble fisherman?
You're silent! Thank the heavens! I have seen your soul!
Farewell, I now shall die: nor leave behind
An object of regret!
Sancha.
I meant not, sir,
To move you so—
Salvator.
No, girl!—I do but dote!
Let me embrace you once more as an equal,
And then farewell! God bless you! Fare you well!
[Hurries out.
Sancha
(alone).
What have I said, to wrong his nature thus?
I feel a sinner, yet am ignorant
Of my transgression! Weeping, he returns—
Re-enter Salvator.
Salvator.
Girl! live—be happy! All the Saints upon you
[She kneels.
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And keep away the evils that I dread—
Once more, farewell!—and holy angels guard you!
[Exit Salvator.
Sancha
(alone).
Alas! I tremble with the mystery,
That makes his venerable passion seem
The inspiration of a Seer's rapture!
All is enigma too! The Queen's perplexed,
The Countess and the Seneschal suspected!
Why is all this? But I must to my duty—
Darkling, a shadow gathers on our path!
[Exit.
Enter Balzo and Duchess of Durazzo.
Balzo.
Not one must quit the palace; therefore, lady,
Pardon this interruption.
Duchess.
Before Heaven!
I knew not of the absence of the Duke—
Balzo.
I doubt it nothing; still thy princely lord,
I must repeat, has fled. The proofs against him
Are strong and most direct.
Duchess.
It cannot be—
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With an Italian soul, I must admit;
Might have desired his death, or on occasion
Have compassed it; this I would not deny:
But that he had occasion, or thereof
Availed himself, the contrary I know.
And much I wish he had not fled from Naples,
Since misconstruction may to mischief ripen!
But I will to my sister, our good Queen.
Balzo.
That I permit. But deem not your persuasion
Can with her Majesty avail you aught.
She has herself divested of control,
Putting the business wholly in my charge,
And I will sift it with a loyal spirit.
[Exeunt.
Re-enter Salvator and Giulio.
Salvator.
Barred from immediate egress—say, good Giulio!
If you have so much knowledge, what imports it?
You look dejected, boy! and shake your head—
By the command of Hugh del Balzo, (thus
Were we informed,) the palace-gates were closed
On all its dwellers; not a soul might stir
Of those within its walls! So back must we;
We are prisoners here—nor you, nor I, alone—
But all. Can you not speak?
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Grief makes me dumb!
And ignorance stifles what I else would say!
This know I only, I am innocent
Of Andreas' murder.
Salvator.
So am I, boy! Ha!
Blood will have dreadful inquisition! Well!
Boy! Your clear conscience keep you unabashed!
Look up!—Why drooping still?
Giulio.
You know not, then,
The Countess is suspected with her lord,
Her son, her household?
Salvator.
Justice! blindly swooping,
Wilt thou make sudden clearance? Wrath, not Justice!
Murder for murder! Where are human hearts?
Giulio.
Mine, sir! is wrung already with a doubt
That sits on it, like death! The Lady Sancha!
Salvator.
Thou lovest her? Tush, boy, she is a child!
She's safe, whoe'er's in peril!
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Out! alas!
Thou little know'st such things as these! Wo's me!
I'm native to the curse!
[Exit.
Salvator.
Where is Philippa?
Enter Philippa.
Philippa.
Here, honored father!
Salvator.
Honored! ay, indeed—
The father of a Countess! So they call thee!
O, Countess, truly! Rank, thou wert not born to,
Has been thy ruin! Tell me, has it not?
Philippa.
Indeed, there's much to dread!
Salvator.
There's much to dread?
There's all to dread! O, madness of ambition!
O, had you been contented to remain
The humble nurse, that was your office first,
Nor aimed at rule, where principalities
Sit on their authorised and natal thrones,
All had been safe—all had been very safe!
An honorable name, too, had been thine,
The foster-mother to a line of princes—
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The hated appellation! Heaven and Earth!
Was never misery so completely wretched!
Philippa.
In this deep trouble, let my tranquil soul
Have leave to wait on judgement!
Salvator.
I have done—
I but usurp a right, which long disuse
Has taken from me. The sacrificer's come,
Together with their victims! Agony!
Enter Queen, Duchess, Sancha, Giulio, Evoli, Terlizi, and others.
Queen.
Our palace is our prison, good Salvator!
Else 'twere not thine!
Salvator.
A bitter verity!
Queen.
It is not civil to translate my words,
Into a deeper meaning—
Salvator.
I have no choice—
I speak but as an idiot.
(To Terlizi.)
Hither, Count!
Didst thou not wed my daughter?
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Ay, Salvator!
Nor have repented since—
Salvator.
Thou hadst no reason—
Would she had none!
Queen.
Salvator! doubt not
Our will, or power!
Salvator.
I put no trust in princes!
—Where is my grandchild?
Sancha
(kneeling).
Here, sir, at thy feet!
Salvator.
Why liest thou there?
Sancha.
For pardon!
Salvator.
Wherefore, girl?
Sancha.
For that unconscious fault I late transgressed in!
Salvator.
There is more grace in you, my dearest girl!
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Up to my heart! there grow—but oh! I fear
The soil's so worn, that thou must wither there!
[Raising and embracing her.
What wait we for?
Sancha.
For Hugh del Balzo. Now,
Here, at this time, he promised to pronounce
His final sentence, and adjudicate.
—Here comes his messenger—
Enter Talano.
Talano.
The Chancellor sends
His greeting, to prepare your Majesty.
He's at the palace-gates with troops, and prays
Admission—
Queen.
Troops! Admit him, ne'ertheless!
My word is passed—
[Exit Talano.
Philippa.
Thy word is passed! With troops?
Would he besiege the palace? Ha!
[The Gates at the back of the Scene fly open. Balzo, with Soldiers, Roberto, and Geronimo, enter.
The Monks!
I see it now!
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Astonishment, Sir Hugh!
Well nigh had silenced us. Yet can we question
This strange proceeding.
Balzo.
Strange means are needful,
When not alone great crimes, but criminals,
Have to be brought to justice.
Queen.
Whom accuse you?
Balzo.
More than are present. Great Durazzo's Duke
Has fled to Louis, to complete the treason
He here commenced.
Duchess.
'Tis false!
Balzo.
I bear the sword
Of Justice, lady; and demand respect.
Queen.
You're right in that. Proceed.
Balzo.
Of those now present,
I claim to attach the Seneschal Terlizi,
The Countess of Montoni, Count Evoli,
And Lady Sancha—
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A mere child! Save her,
Wouldst scape the charge of malice!
Balzo.
Peasant, peace!
Be thankful your low nestings challenge not
The storm that shatters turrets, where the eagles
Their perilous eyries build!
Salvator.
I do submit:
Yet—by the wondrous patience of the poor,
Their baffled sympathies for happiness,
For comfort, and all the decent usages,—
I pray you, hear me!
Balzo.
Peace!
Salvator
(aside).
So chained they once
Prometheus to a rock, whose suffering
Most tragic passion was! So chain they me—
And I, like him, must bear!
[Salvator watches the progress of the ensuing scene with intense emotion.
Queen.
What are your proofs?
Balzo.
The evidence of these two pious friars.
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How?
Balzo.
If your Majesty will please to listen,
What prejudice soe'er you may have cherished,
You will abandon.
Queen.
Well!
Balzo.
Unwilling witness
Is each; for both had fled with the Hungarians,
And were brought back by force—the rather, since
I had remarked it was the wont of one,
To note, each day, the accidents thereof,
Within a table-book or diary,
He kept about his person.
Queen.
Which is he?
Balzo.
Geronimo.
Queen.
Go on—
Balzo.
The Monk secured, after much pains,
I wrung this record from him. Here it is—
Wherein, at better leisure, you may read,
How often Duke Durazzo publicly
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The Seneschal's, and all his household's. Oft
Would they be seen, even in your Majesty's
And royal Andreas' presence, grouped together,
Having most evident business apart,
Wherein you might not share. Next, on the night
Of the assassination, they were nigh
The very spot; nay, more; Roberto tempted,
And sounded him with treasonous provocation.
Last, came the assassins, who are known to have sought
The Duke Durazzo, then in company
With those now present, and by him were shown
To the King's chamberlain, and, afterwards,
Were of that officer enquired about,
With vehement speech and gesture.
Queen.
But meanwhile,
The Countess sat with us within our chamber,
Waiting return of our departed consort,
Who, to our sorrow, never did return!
Balzo.
Uneasily, as you have oft confessed,
And wondrously impatient of his absence,
And, as by instinct led, which might be knowledge,
Found out the murder first—but yet too late,
For its prevention.
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Should it be so, let
The world sink into chaos, for the columns
It rests on crumble daily!
Salvator.
Manifest
And proper fraud! Think of the plot, the monk
Would have contrived with me. Is that, too, noted
Within his table-book?
Balzo.
Poor, erring peasant!
The converse you refer to, there is written,
But wears a different hue from what you gave it,
And shows your ignorance misinterpreter
Of speech not innocent only, but well meant.
Salvator.
Wo to the world! that clerkly skill, for ends
Divinest meant, should be to such abused!
Queen.
What answer makes the Countess?
Philippa.
Innocence!
Queen.
But—
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Nay, if in your soul, your Majesty
Know me not innocent, I scorn to urge
Useless asseveration—
Queen.
You do well!—
Monarchs should put no confidence in friendship!
I'll to my chamber!
Philippa.
Short-lived in thy friendship,
As those poor lilies that but bloom a day,
Not, like the hyacinth, friend in wintery need!
Queen.
(emphatically).
Too early widowed! Countess, there are sorrows
That slowly undermine, as well as those
That overwhelm o' the sudden. Fate on me
Her quiver empties. Balzo! is there more?
Balzo.
Nothing, but that your Majesty retire,
Leaving the prisoners in my custody.
Queen.
Let it be so! Attend me—all!
[Exeunt Queen, Duchess, Giulio, and Attendants.
Philippa.
A moment,
Good Chancellor! with my father—and alone!
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'Tis granted.
[Exeunt Balzo and omnes, except Philippa and Salvator.
Salvator.
Countess! verily, a Countess!
O, bitterness of sorrow! Come—now, laugh!
Nothing but Countess! Countess of Montoni!
I give you joy! joy! joy! You are a Countess!
Philippa.
Scorn me not!
Salvator.
Ha! ha! ha! A countess scorned
By a fisherman! Ne'er mind, my child! thou art
The daughter of an honest man! thou art!
Ay, and his honest daughter!
Philippa.
Think you so?
Salvator.
I do—most veritably! What are titles,
Power, or riches, which can thus leave bare
Their duped possessors! To the true good soul
That, when divested even of the body,
Still holds entire its god-like attributes,
What are they, daughter?
Philippa.
I've solemnly thought of it!
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Then go in peace! I yet may find out means
To save you—or, if not—
Philippa.
I am immortal!
[Exit.
Salvator.
Where is the menial took my cloak from me?
Enter Bruno on one side, and Roberto and Geronimo on the other.
Ye are come—And thou, too? It is time I left
The palace?
Bruno.
So I am bid to say.
Salvator.
Anon!
[Exit Bruno.
Roberto.
Salvator! we are charged—
Salvator.
With many a trouble,
Which, were ye what ye seem, would ne'er have pained you—
Roberto.
By Hugh del Balzo, Chancellor of Naples—
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A blind but honest man, whom ye have cheated
To think his darkness, light—
Roberto.
To warn you—
Salvator.
Me?—
Roberto.
'Twere prudent you should quit
Naples without delay—
Salvator.
Without reward?
Which, were it offered, I should spurn—mark that!
But have deserved. I need not bid you mark it,
'Tis in your fellow's Table-book! Is't not?
Roberto.
We have no business with you, but the duty
We're charged withal.
Salvator.
Poor wit, that must so often
Say the same thing!
Roberto.
And that imports your absence,
Which, if not willingly accorded, will be
Enforced—
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By whom?
Roberto.
The Chancellor. Your wisdom,
For which you have acquired repute, will teach you,
The popular mind at such a juncture may be
Made dangerous by your presence.
Salvator.
Um!
Roberto.
And therefore—
Salvator.
So ho! so ho! I'm grown into importance!
A politician, without knowing it!
A principle—a power—i'th' State; perhaps, i'th' Church—
Most certainly i'th' Church, whereof the Poor
Have been the pillars ever!
Roberto.
Do you scorn us?
Salvator.
Most heartily! But not your message, though;
And much respect the sender. Tell him that—
Geronimo.
No more?
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Whate'er you please, besides—except
The truth.
Geronimo.
Fear not.
Salvator.
Not I! Ye cannot speak it.
Re-enter Bruno (with cloak).
What, if ye could?—Good friend! you've brought my cloak—
Thank you! A little while!
[Exit Bruno.
Why go ye not?
Geronimo.
We've order to attend you out of Naples.
Salvator.
Have ye? Am I suspected, then? and ye,
My gaolers? Faugh! Am I your prisoner?
Roberto.
Not so, Salvator! 'Tis but friendly caution.
Salvator.
See you this cloak?
Roberto.
We do!
Salvator.
Wo't put it on?
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Why so?
Salvator.
Having been worn on honest shoulders,
Being recognised, the one of you that wears it,
May be mistaken for an honest man!
Roberto.
Nay, leave these fancies! Come along with us!
Salvator.
Never! lest men should judge of me by you;
Born and baptisëd liars! hypocrites
By nature and by grace! Ye wear a cloak,
Holy as this is honest; wrap in it
A mortifying carcase, crumbling piecemeal,
And feign 'tis quick within with wholesome life,
Albeit corruption's stench is rank upon it,
And not a lazar's body but, compared,
Is clean to it! Go ye your own ways—I'll
Not walk with lepers, lest I too grow scaly!
Enter Giulio.
Young man! you're welcome!
Giulio.
To despair?
Salvator.
Why so?
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Balzo will put her soft limbs to the question,
To force confession—
Salvator.
Ha! The rack!
Giulio.
He will!
Salvator.
The Queen! I'd see the Queen! Canst get me audience?
Giulio.
I will endeavour—
Salvator.
Instant, boy!
[Exit Giulio.
Alone!
I will be left alone!
[Exeunt Roberto and Geronimo.
Now, to my mind,
Those twain so wicked show, that Heaven will fail
To vindicate itself, if they not perish
By some strange, sudden doom! The question! ah!
My heart is on the rack! The Queen is young
And merciful; I'll show her such respect
As shall, like worship, plead with her for pity!
How speeds young Giulio? I must follow him!
[Exit.
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Scene III.
—Queen's Apartment.Enter Queen (with a book) and the Duchess of Durazzo.
Queen.
Have I no leisure? I would read, to teach
My soul some patience.
Duchess.
Hear me, royal sister!
Giulio pleads with such passion, and the old man
With tears and such entreaty claims admission,
That, as the sister of your heart, no less
Than love, I pray you, let the young man take
Your signet to forbid the horrid question,
And to Salvator grant immediate audience.
Queen.
Here, take it— [Giving signet,]
and send in the reverend suitor.
[Exit Duchess.
(Sits.)
What was't I read just now? I'll read't again.
When throne and life have been at stake, there is not
In history an example of a Monarch,
With whom the lives of subjects innocent,
Or even meritorious, ever seemed
Of weight enough to counterpoise the peril.
A churlish saying, even if it be true.
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He comes. Salvator! doubtless, thou hast learned
I have anticipated your request.
Salvator.
I thank thee for the part that thou hast granted.
Queen.
Have I not granted all?
Salvator
(anxiously).
Are they then free?
Queen.
Free! not content with less?
Salvator
(emphatically).
They are innocent—
Queen
(rising).
Who made thee Judge? And wert thou such by office,
Affection in thee, and predominant will,
With jealous humour, would confuse and trouble
State, order, ceremony, reverence,
Devotion, equity—nay, understanding.
I know not whether thou hast strength of soul,
To act the part of Brutus with his children;
But this I know, that thou hast cause for thanks,
That, with the station, thou art spared the trial!
Salvator.
What trial spared? Am I not, then, a man,
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Each man would be their judge, and I, as one,
As well as he who doomed them; but, if guiltless,
I suffer more than any, be they punished.
Queen.
Then you, without authority, are equal
In all things, to those with, except in suffering!
And there—you are superior?
Salvator.
For we lack
The authority, that can remit the suffering—
Queen.
Yet doth impose it?—Ha!
Salvator.
I speak not now
Of such, but one who had authority
A little while ago. For one who well
Has served you, during many years of life;
For her I plead; and not for such as I am.
Yet scorn not thou the advocate! Even I
Once did a good thing for you. Should worse earthquake
Than that which then rocked Naples—and I read such
In the times' aspects—threat her civil peace,
Not in her soil, but in the popular soul,
And I be living then, I shall be ready
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[The Queen becomes abstracted, listening to low rumbling sounds.
Thou'rt stonied!
Queen.
Hear'st thou nothing?
Salvator.
Nothing, lady,
But my own voice pleading to thee!
Queen.
Not the sounds,
(Alas! in Naples too familiar!)
Prelude the shocks, such as that awful night—
Sure! 'twill not come again! Is't phantasy?
Salvator!
Salvator.
Phantasy? 'Tis Truth's own thunder!
Though prisoned 'neath the ground, it will be heard!
It comes again! Heaven sends it to remind you!
Queen.
Have mercy, Heaven!
[Prostrating herself.
Salvator.
And mercy teach to thee!
The floor reels like a ship's deck in a storm,
As on that fearful night that galley's did,
And made men frantic, whom, through me, yet Heaven
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O, Queen of Naples!
Even as I said to them, I say to thee—
“Be calm, and fear not; God has heard my prayer,
And spares the sacrifice for the will's sake,
And lets not peril enter where I tread!”
—All's mute again, and still. 'Twas but to mind thee!
Queen.
And thou—what art thou? I do fear thee now,
More than the elements! Have ye wizard power,
Thou, and thy daughter?
Salvator
(raising her up).
Be not superstitious!
This is Heaven's work, not ours! Soft! footsteps!
Enter Balzo (hurriedly).
Queen.
Balzo!
Shook Earth, without these walls?
Balzo.
Most fearfully!—
Queen.
Then 'tis no sorcery! O, 'tis Heaven's own threatning!
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The populace throng abroad in dread and wonder,
Shouting “Salvator!” and the “wronged Montoni!”
Therefore let not the old man quit these walls,
Until the tumult end; then be convoyed
Safe out of Naples, or imprisoned close!
Queen.
Touch not a hair of his head!
Salvator.
Bring the axe,
Let it drop altogether, save but them!
Save! not for my sake only, but your own!
You hear the People's voice! Time is, when that
Is God's. 'Tis such a time even now—this instant,
And here; and here and elsewhere, this same age
In which we live. At Naples and at Rome,
Freedom or murmurs deep or calls aloud;
Witness, Rienzi made the judge of princes!
There's that is slumbering in this hour's abyss,
Which threatens worse than earthquake! Men's wrath ere now
Has silenced storms—nay, earthquakes! Moral shocks
The antique foundations of all present Order
Do underlie, and wait to bury it!
Let me serve you in this, converting you
To my persuasion! After which, beyond
These palace walls, my words I'll pour, as oil
107
Of the distracted vulgar, and make peace!
Balzo.
Danger wears not one visor now, but many.
Queen.
What other face now shows it?
Balzo.
Louis—
Queen.
Well!
Balzo.
Of Hungary, great lady, close on Naples
Advances now, and takes us by surprise.
Queen.
Treachery on his part, then! Our trial waits,
As now Salvator said, Rienzi's sentence.
Balzo
(sarcastically).
Sorry am I to dash Salvator's hopes—
Rienzi's upstart power is at an end,
The people have betrayed him to the Barons,
And he a fugitive beneath the ban
Of papal censure.
Queen.
Excommunicate?
Salvator.
Is 't so? O popular breath! O fickle wind!
108
Not one omitted!—Where thou listest, blow!
My soul is sick to death!
Queen.
Come—you, Salvator!
Are of the spirit that infects this age?
Salvator.
Your Majesty—
Queen.
Start not! I am not offended,
It may be, pleased—
Salvator.
I am too old, my liege,
To be an actor in unpractised scenes—
Queen.
But not a thinker on them. You have heard:
Now, for your counsel—
Salvator.
Will you take it?
Queen.
I had
Made up my mind to do so, ere I asked you—
You've won upon my faith, and exercise
Strange influence, I cannot now resist—
Speak!—
109
Sudden—
Queen.
Sudden inspirations are
Ofttimes the best!
Salvator.
Thus, then:—The Pope, we know,
Smiled on Rienzi, and he dwelt in sunshine;
That smile withdrawn—night cometh!
Queen.
True—what follows?
Salvator.
Go to the source of light, denied to him,
And to your cause in him; and seeking it,
The light may shine on you, and on your cause.
Queen.
Mean you, that I should plead my cause before
The Pope?
Salvator.
I mean so—in your proper person.
Queen.
Leave Naples?
Salvator.
Yes, for Rome—
Queen.
My Oracle!
110
To the same judge?—You hesitate!
Salvator
(after a mental struggle).
Be it so—
Though here I grope my way, in darkness—
Enter Giulio (hurriedly).
Giulio.
Pardon,
Let plead my news!
Queen.
Speak, Giulio!
Giulio.
Blood is shed
I' the streets—
Salvator.
Whose?
Giulio.
The Monks', Roberto's and his brother's!
Salvator.
I thought it would be so, if Heaven were just,
Which he who doubts, himself's no doubt unjust!
Impede me not! My peril 'mongst the people
Shall be your safety!
[Exit.
Queen.
Gone—thus—and in silence?
111
There's noise and struggling—
Enter Talano (hurriedly).
What's the matter?
Talano.
Madam!
Armed men, from out the crowd, into the palace
Have broken way, and seized upon the Duchess.
Queen.
My sister?
Talano.
And have borne her off—
Queen.
Ha!—
Enter Bruno.
What else?
Bruno.
They, who bare off the princess, came athwart
Salvator at the gates—
Queen.
What then?
Bruno.
On him
They likewise seized, and bare him too away!
112
Enough! Be gone!
[Exeunt Talano and Bruno.
To council! This is more
Than common peril! I must be myself!
I will to Rome forthwith, myself alone!
[Exeunt.
END OF THIRD ACT.
| Salvator, the Poor Man of Naples | |