University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FIRST.

Cosmo, Garcia.
Cos.
Advance, nearer advance. But how! thou tremblest!
Dost thou deserve reward or punishment?
What hast thou done? This instant tell me all.

Gar.
Before to-day didst thou e'er see me tremble?
Thou oughtest to be well aware how fear
Ever accompanies a guilty conscience.
My brief address, oh Cosmo, hear. At length
I have, thou knowest, with my dastard hand
Accomplish'd thy magnanimous revenge,
And I was taught to expect that Julia's safety
Would recompense the murderer of her father.
For thou erewhile didst generously promise
That I should purchase by the blood of one
The freedom of another innocent.
Ah! tell me, hast thou then at last released
Julia from chains? Shall that most wretched maid
Life and security at least retain?

Cos.
Not only I release her, but with thee
Will join her, if thou hast perform'd the deed.

Gar.
Join her with me! oh crime And thinkest thou
That I am so consummately thy son
I am thy son indeed, but not so much.
If I have been a traitor, heaven know wherefore ...

Cos.
Thou better know'st thyself. But whence are now
Thy mad audacity, thy pride, thy threats,
In thee redoubled?

Gar.
Whence! Defiled with blood,
I am the instrument of thy commands,
And should I not be swoln with haughty thoughts?
Since I am the most guilty, am I not
Now the most dear to thee of all thy sons?

Cos.
Miscreant! ere long and thou indeed wilt tremble ...

Gar.
I trembled while I yet was innocent:
Now am I reckless from despairing guilt.
I only ask of thee that thou would'st now
Fulfil thy promise. My own destiny
I have ere now fix'd, and for ever fix'd.

Cos.
More fix'd perchance my will. She ne'er shall be
Released, if she is not thy consort first:
Or thine or in eternal chains. Shall I
Suffer her ancient rancour, her new wish
To avenge her father's murder, to be brought
A wedding dowry to another spouse?
Her's thou alone ...

Gar.
Ah me! what have I done? ...
Oh what art thou? ... No ... never ...

Cos.
Cease; this ought
Not to afflict thee now: thou'rt call'd upon
First to convince me that with thy own hand
Thou hast slain Salviati.—Know'st thou this?
What proofs of it canst thou adduce to me?

Gar.
What proofs! Oh guilty grief! doth it not then
Suffice to be a miscreant? Is there need
Also to triumph in committed crimes?
Ah, see my guilt upon my face engraved,
See it exultingly. My desperate deeds,
My eyes, my gestures, and the tones of death
Most audible in every word I utter,
Do not they all express it? And the blood
With which I am defiled from head to foot,
Yet crimson, smoking yet?

Cos.
I see that blood:
But whose it is I have not yet discover'd.
I only have obtain'd entire conviction
That it is not the blood that I demanded.

Gar.
Oh rage! and doubt? ... Then thither go thyself:
Plant thou thy feet within the horrible cave;
That wretched victim in a lake of blood
There wilt thou see extended. Go, and feed
On the dire spectacle; go satisfy
Not thy sight only, but thy other senses:
Touch with thy hand the gaping wound of death;
Feed on his quivering heart; and, tyger, drink
In copious draughts its blood; thy regal rage
Pour out on that exanimated breast.
Once, twice, and four times, nay, a thousand times,
Plunge in that form that can contend no more
Thy valorous dagger: there make noble proof
Of all thy prowess,—sceptred hero—there;
Thou hast no other place.—Unheard-of death!
Unheard-of pangs! I am a parricide,
The son of Cosmo, I; and innocent
That Cosmo would account me! ...

Cos.
Who denies
That thou'rt a miscreant, who? Thou hast, I think,
Inflicted death; but not on him whose death,
From the complexion of these perilous times,
Is no less indispensable than just.
Thou art, but not of any foe of mine,
A murderer: more I know not; but ere long
I shall know all; quickly I shall behold
With my own eyes ...

Gar.
Hast thou not seen Piero?
And said he not to thee that Salviati,
By his contrivance, enter'd first the cave? ...

Cos.
Yes, yes, Piero came, and said to me
That Salviati in that cave this night
Hath never enter'd, nor e'en thought to do it.
Thither I now repair, where thou hast stain'd
The soil with blood. If he has not fall'n there,
Tremble thyself. My fury, destined all
To wreak itself on that devoted head,
Who knows, perchance ... to-day ... may elsewhere ... fall ...