University of Virginia Library

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Cosmo, Eleonora.
Cos.
No, I am not mistaken; no: a son
More worthy than Diego we possess not;
The honour of the throne, his father's safety,
The universal peace, he has at heart.
I had indubitable proofs of this
From his own lips a little while ago.

Ele.
Then hast thou never in my Garcia found
Love, judgment, gentleness of character,
And pliancy of heart?

Cos.
What words are these?
How dost thou designate that rebel spirit?
Of all my sons, he is the only one
Unworthy of the name. What do I say,
Among my sons? Far, far more than by him,
By every other am I loved and reverenced.
A serpent, who on me turns all his rage,
And his dire poison, in my breast I cherish.
How difficulty, when to him I listen'd,
Did I restrain my rage! Surmise is now
Matured to certainty: and Garcia is ...

Ele.
What has he done? What has he said? In what
Offended thee? Alas ...

Cos.
What has he said?
Whilst of a mortal foe I plan the death,
He dares to counsel me to pardon him.
Thence, much as I abhor him, he abhors not
The guilty Salviati? Thence my foes
Are not his foes?

Ele.
And is not every man
Thy subject that dwells here? If this, or that,
It pleaseth thee to slay, dost thou not do it?
'Tis in a son a venial offence
To supplicate his sire to be less cruel.
'Tis true, that neither Piero nor Diego
From bloodshed dared dissuade thee: Garcia dared.
What doth this indicate, except that he
Is more benignant, and for human blood
Pants not?

Cos.
This overweening, ill-placed love,
More than it ought to do, thy judgment blinds.
Thou'st made an idol to thyself in Garcia;
Save him thou lovest, and thou seest nothing:
That which I call a crime, dar'st thou in him
Call virtue?—
This altercation is not new betwixt us,
But every day it more displeases me.
And thou wilt make an effort to myself
Most acceptable, if within thy heart
Thou hide a love so partial and unjust.

Ele.
An unjust love? Ah! if there be who thus
Can prove it to me, I at once will change it.
Not on the words, but actions of my sons,
My observation has been fix'd.

Cos.
So be it;
If then thou wilt, in spite of me, let him
Be dear to thee; so that I never more
Hear thee excuse his failings. In my palace,
The first and only virtue is to please me:
This virtue hitherto I see not in him:
It doth belong to thee to teach him this;
To thee, ... if thou sincerely lovest him.

Ele.
And hath not Garcia always bent his brow
To thy behests?

Cos.
What merit hath obedience?
And this sufficeth it? And not to do it,
Who now would have the hardihood?—He ought
To speak not only as I speak, but ought
To think e'en as I think: he who has not
A nature like to mine, should change it: yes:
Not simulate, but change it. Of my race,
And of my realm, I am the head; the soul
Am I, with which each living creature here
Is animated.—Nor, on guilty Garcia,
Had he not been my son, had I bestow'd
Even a warning ere I punish'd him.
Hence is his crime assuredly augmented;
But yet once more, or ere his chastisement,
Once only will I make him hear a voice,
That from perdition's path may rescue him.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Cosmo, Eleonora, Piero.
Pi.
Father, most urgent business brings me to thee;
With thee I would confer at leisure.

Cos.
Oh!
What strange disturbance on thy face I read!
Speak; what hath happen'd? say.

Pi.
I cannot speak it,
Except to thee alone.

Ele.
What can a son
Have of mysterious for a father's ears,
Thus from a mother carefully conceal'd?

Cos.
I am a father; but at the same time
I am a prince; nor hast thou hitherto,
Lady, with me my public burthens shared;
Nor wilt thou share them, if, as I suspect ...

Ele.
Thou dost suspect the truth. Scarcely had I
The native shores of my Sebetus quitted,
Than I, become the sharer of thy fate,
All my attachments, all my objects bounded,
Within these royal walls. In me thou gained'st
A consort, and a handmaid, nothing more.
Clearly I saw my lord thought every proof
Of love was centred in a blind obedience.
Hence always I obey'd; this thou know'st well;
Often in tones of gratitude hast thou
Praised me for this. Would'st thou remain alone?
I leave thee: and already I infer
From him who tells it, what this secret is:
And I know why I only should not hear it.
But I wish not to hear Piero's tongue,
Possessing such alacrity to injure:
If only to the detriment of strangers
It were exerted, I should not at least
Then tremble at it, as I tremble now.
I, of his well-known arts, am doubtlessly
A most unwelcome witness.

Pi.
Thou hast placed
All thy maternal fondness on one son;
Hence are the others guilty; and, meanwhile,
Hence do I suffer heavy punishment;
And, indeed, may it fall alone on me!
My tongue is evermore prepared to injure?
This thy beloved son says so, to whom
I bear no hatred, though I envy him:
Let him confess, if, or in words or deeds,
I ever injured him.—A horrid stain
Thou fixest on me, mother: yet should I,
If any other than my mother fix'd it,
Be more afflicted; or if any one
Heard it, besides my father and my lord,
To me imputed. But I know my duty;
I ought to suffer and to hold my peace;
I suffer, and am silent.

Cos.
Lady, would'st thou,
With manners such as these, in tumult throw
Our palace?

Ele.
Ah, that others would not do it!
And hath not an abominable pest
Already fix'd its residence among us?
I yield my place: and may I never know,
And never thou believe, his odious secrets!

SCENE THE THIRD.

Cosmo, Piero.
Cos.
Piero, speak.

Pi.
My mother's prophecies
In part are true. An execrable pest
Rises among us.

Cos.
Where I reign, no pest
Exists that can mature; e'en from the roots
It shall be torn up: speak.

Pi.
I know full well
That all depends on thee: of every wound
Thou art the sovereign healer; hence I seek
In thee alone a speedy remedy.—
Erewhile there rose, 'twixt Garcia and Diego,
A war of words: their fury with great pains
I check'd; but certainly 'tis not extinguish'd.
Inflamed, and fierce, Garcia went out: with prayers,
Mingled with force, Diego I restrain'd:
The aggressor he will never be, no never;
But, from the other, if one look escape,
One word, one gesture to provoke him, heavens!
I tremble to reflect on what may follow.

Cos.
Perpetual discord; I already knew it:
But what new provocation hath impell'd them
To yield to such ungovernable rage?

Pi.
When thou erewhile didst quit us, we remain'd
In earnest conference. Diego, fired
In words as well as deeds with noble ardour,
With that imposing frankness he possesses,
Openly blamed his brother Garcia,
(And blamed, methinks, not wrongfully,) that he,
Alone, dared in thy presence to defend
The guilty cause of Salviati. Pierced
E'en to his inmost heart (for the rebuke
Was too well founded,) Garcia had recourse
To threats against his brother: and had he
Outraged Diego only! ... but to thee
I ought not to repeat that which escaped,
While hot with passion, from his breast: and perhaps
He thought it not; anger sometimes excites
To utter that which is not. And to me,
While I essay'd to reconcile them both,
He darted pungent and injurious words:
But this imports not.—'Tis expedient now,
That he should hear the thunder of thy voice,
So that this contest gain no further strength.

Cos.
There is no doubt; all things convince me of it:
Garcia, that impious son, betrays his sire,
His lord, his honour, and himself, at once.
He would, by this aggression on Diego,
Obliquely wound his father: he assumes
Blind confidence from blind maternal love;
And to the highest pitch audacity
In him is risen. Erewhile, I wish'd to hear
If he would dare deliberately disclose
The vile and guilty friendship in my presence
That he hath long encouraged in his heart:
And it is not to me, oh no! unknown,
As much as witlessly he thinks it is.

Pi.
Thou, then, indeed dost know it, that he is
Clandestinely of Salviati?

Cos.
Yes;
I know it; thoroughly convinced ...

Pi.
Himself,
Against his will ...

Cos.
And why have ye conceal'd
It hitherto from me?

Pi.
He is our brother ...

Cos.
And am not I the father of you all?

Pi.
I hoped, indeed, that to the path of duty
He would return; and still I dare to hope it.
Still in that unripe age are we, thou seest,
When man is most apt to be led astray.
Each of us might, caught in such snares, become
Guilty of similar failings.

Cos.
Ah! no snares
Could ever make you traitors: for ye are, ...
Diego, and thyself ...

Pi.
Diego never;
I hope so of myself; and every man
Affirms it of himself while he is sane.
But who can answer for the consequence,
If love, the enemy of reason, rule him?

Cos.
What say'st thou? Love!

Pi.
If thou reflect on this,
Less heinous will his fault appear to thee.

Cos.
Love, say'st thou? Love for whom?

Pi.
Thou know'st it, father.

Cos.
I know that he's a traitor; that he oft
Dares meet in secret interview, at night,
With Salviati in my palace, here,
But that love prompted him, I never knew:
What may this love be? Speak.

Pi.
Ah wretched me! ...
I would excuse him, and I have accused him.

Cos.
Speak: I command thee; and hide nothing from me,
Or I ...

Pi.
Ah! father, pardon him, I pray,
This youthful indiscretion, and ascribe
Nothing that he does to a will depraved.
Love only makes him seem a traitor. He
Loves guilty Salviati's guiltless daughter:
The gentle Julia, whom thou hast perchance
Retain'd a hostage for her father's faith,
Among th'illustrious damsels in thy court;
Julia he loves; she, ere scarce seen, inflamed him.
He loves her secretly; and, loved again,
He lives in sweet though ineffectual hope.
Now that the father of a maid beloved
Should not seem guilty to her paramour,
Why should this seem so wonderful to thee?

Cos.
All men then know the errors of my sons
More than myself? All men excuse them? hide them?
His partial mother incontestably
Is privy also to this guilty secret;
And seconds it perchance ...

Pi.
In truth, I think not ...
But yet, who knows ...

Cos.
This simulated love
What can it be, except a specious veil
For future treasons? Can my son be dear
To Julia for his own sake? Is she not
The daughter of my foe? And hath she not,
E'en with her milk, imbibed hatred for me,
And for my blood? Deep treasons are conceal'd
Beneath this love: the daughter, doubtlessly,
Is made an instrument of his revenge
By the shrewd father; I am not mistaken.
And my own son? ...

Pi.
Perchance thou construest well
Their secret schemes: but think it not of Garcia:
A fervid love assuredly excites him;
And the blind guide doth often not conduct
To a good path: perchance he hence has err'd.
Now that thou know'st the whole do thou restrain him,
But with a gentle rein: do not so act,
That I with reason may regret to-day
That I've betray'd, although by chance I did it,
His jealous amorous secret. It is true,
He never told it to me; but he is
Reserved to all, and most so to his brothers:
But yet I knew it.—Now, since I have said it,
Turn it to his advantage. Wean him, father,
From this disgraceful fondness; and at once
Appease his unjust rage against his brothers.

Cos.
Thou hast done well to speak: a son and subject
It was thy duty; I shall seek to know
More of this matter.—But Diego comes.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Diego, Cosmo, Piero.
Cos.
My son, what would'st thou? Justice? Thou shalt have it.

Di.
Father, what ails thee? On thy austere brow
Sits dark displeasure. Perhaps our strife hath wrought
Disturbance in thee? It had been, Piero,
Better indeed for us to have hid it from him:
And what? Fear'st thou that for my brother's insult
Anger in me all limits would transgress?
Ah, let my father think no more of it;
Nor let it raise in him resentful feelings.
Esteem me not offended; I alone
Pity th'offender: this is my revenge.

Cos.
Oh, thou art worthy of a better brother
Than Garcia is! Fraternal injuries
Thou dost endure; and it becomes thee well:
But that he has infringed my laws, that he
Erewhile contended with thee, this is not
The first sole cause of my profound displeasure.
His turbulence, I clearly see, springs not
From the impetuosity of youth;
'Tis the worse fruit of a malignant heart:
I am compell'd e'en to the fountain head
Of the mortiferous pestilence to go;
I am compell'd t'investigate the whole,
The whole to hear. Imperiously it behoves me
To know the deeds, th'affections, and the words,
The enterprises, e'en the secret thoughts,
Of one, a royal youth, who, more than others,
Has power to injure, and may fear it less.

Di.
Yet do not now ascribe to guilt in him,
I pray thee, that which erewhile, when incensed,
He said to me.

Pi.
Thou seest clearly, father,
If Garcia had a corresponding soul,
Peace would be permanent betwixt them both;
Nor doth Diego feign ...

Di.
Nor hitherto
Have I suspected that my brother feign'd,
Or was malignant. No, my father, no;
Although he differ from me, I perceive
The seeds of virtue in him; I esteem him
A little from the path of rectitude
Unconsciously misled: he cherishes
Private affections in his princely nature;
Hence are those phrases which appear so strange;
Hence he so frequently dissents from us;
And hence th'injurious lofty pomp with which
He preaches to us his ascetic virtues.
I first, inflamed with anger, in thy presence,
Calling him hypocritical and false,
Presumed to assault him: to a lofty heart
Th'indignity was insupportable;
And scarcely was in me my wrath appeased,
Ere I repented of it. I come here,
In the first place, expressly to recant;
And inasmuch as my officiousness
May have excited prejudice in thee
Against thy son, to abrogate at once
Impressions sinister, as they are false.

Cos.
Garcia assuredly is less a traitor,
Than thou magnanimous.

Di.
We are thy sons ...

Cos.
Thou art indeed: Piero and thyself.

Pi.
At least, I prize myself in thinking so.

Di.
Ah! do not deem thy other son yet lost:
I do beseech thee, to thyself, and us,
Reclaim him, father; but with gentle treatment.
Advice, far more than force, will operate
On his tenacious heart; and never shew him
That, less than us, thou lovest him.

Cos.
My sons,
Enough, enough. Withdraw: I will indulge you.
Ere long to me, Piero, thou send here
Thy brother Garcia; I will speak to him.
Nor do I less commend in thee, Piero,
The strict solicitude, than in Diego
The sublime magnanimity of heart.

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Cosmo.
Cos.
Oh worthy pair of sons!—What star of mine
Will join to you a third with such deserts?
Though I deem'd Garcia guilty, I ne'er deem'd
His guilt was so atrocious. But, methinks,
With what impression ought I to behold
Diego, who, though destined to command,
Solicits pardon for received offences.
It grieves me to be forced to praise in him
That with my tongue, which in my heart I blame.
But yet he is a novice in the arts
Of government; in time he'll be more wise.
I see within him all the qualities
That form a perfect prince. I must instruct him,
By my example, that, to govern well,
The less we should forgive, e'en as the ties
Of blood are more implicit, and the more
Th'offender to the offended is allied.