Part 3

[_She takes his face in her hands and bends down and kisses him_; _a loud knocking then comes at the door_, _and_ GUIDO _leaps up_; _enter a Servant_.]

SERVANT

A package for you, sir.

GUIDO [_carelessly_]

Ah! give it to me.

[_Servant hands package wrapped in vermilion silk_, _and exit_; _as_ GUIDO _is about to open it the_ DUCHESS _comes up behind_, _and in sport takes it from him_.]

DUCHESS [_laughing_]

Now I will wager it is from some girl Who would have you wear her favour; I am so jealous I will not give up the least part in you, But like a miser keep you to myself, And spoil you perhaps in keeping.

GUIDO

It is nothing.

DUCHESS

Nay, it is from some girl.

GUIDO

You know ’tis not.

DUCHESS [_turns her back and opens it_]

Now, traitor, tell me what does this sign mean, A dagger with two leopards wrought in steel?

GUIDO [_taking it from her_]

O God!

DUCHESS

I’ll from the window look, and try If I can’t see the porter’s livery Who left it at the gate! I will not rest Till I have learned your secret.

[_Runs laughing into the corridor_.]

GUIDO

Oh, horrible! Had I so soon forgot my father’s death, Did I so soon let love into my heart, And must I banish love, and let in murder That beats and clamours at the outer gate? Ay, that I must! Have I not sworn an oath? Yet not to-night; nay, it must be to-night. Farewell then all the joy and light of life, All dear recorded memories, farewell, Farewell all love! Could I with bloody hands Fondle and paddle with her innocent hands? Could I with lips fresh from this butchery Play with her lips? Could I with murderous eyes Look in those violet eyes, whose purity Would strike men blind, and make each eyeball reel In night perpetual? No, murder has set A barrier between us far too high For us to kiss across it.

DUCHESS

Guido!

GUIDO

Beatrice, You must forget that name, and banish me Out of your life for ever.

DUCHESS [_going towards him_]

O dear love!

GUIDO [_stepping back_]

There lies a barrier between us two We dare not pass.

DUCHESS

I dare do anything So that you are beside me.

GUIDO

Ah! There it is, I cannot be beside you, cannot breathe The air you breathe; I cannot any more Stand face to face with beauty, which unnerves My shaking heart, and makes my desperate hand Fail of its purpose. Let me go hence, I pray; Forget you ever looked upon me.

DUCHESS

What! With your hot kisses fresh upon my lips Forget the vows of love you made to me?

GUIDO

I take them back.

DUCHESS

Alas, you cannot, Guido, For they are part of nature now; the air Is tremulous with their music, and outside The little birds sing sweeter for those vows.

GUIDO

There lies a barrier between us now, Which then I knew not, or I had forgot.

DUCHESS

There is no barrier, Guido; why, I will go In poor attire, and will follow you Over the world.

GUIDO [_wildly_]

The world’s not wide enough To hold us two! Farewell, farewell for ever.

DUCHESS [_calm_, _and controlling her passion_]

Why did you come into my life at all, then, Or in the desolate garden of my heart Sow that white flower of love—?

GUIDO

O Beatrice!

DUCHESS

Which now you would dig up, uproot, tear out, Though each small fibre doth so hold my heart That if you break one, my heart breaks with it? Why did you come into my life? Why open The secret wells of love I had sealed up? Why did you open them—?

GUIDO

O God!

DUCHESS [_clenching her hand_]

And let The floodgates of my passion swell and burst Till, like the wave when rivers overflow That sweeps the forest and the farm away, Love in the splendid avalanche of its might Swept my life with it? Must I drop by drop Gather these waters back and seal them up? Alas! Each drop will be a tear, and so Will with its saltness make life very bitter.

GUIDO

I pray you speak no more, for I must go Forth from your life and love, and make a way On which you cannot follow.

DUCHESS

I have heard That sailors dying of thirst upon a raft, Poor castaways upon a lonely sea, Dream of green fields and pleasant water-courses, And then wake up with red thirst in their throats, And die more miserably because sleep Has cheated them: so they die cursing sleep For having sent them dreams: I will not curse you Though I am cast away upon the sea Which men call Desolation.

GUIDO

O God, God!

DUCHESS

But you will stay: listen, I love you, Guido.

[_She waits a little_.]

Is echo dead, that when I say I love you There is no answer?

GUIDO

Everything is dead, Save one thing only, which shall die to-night!

DUCHESS

If you are going, touch me not, but go.

[_Exit_ GUIDO.]

Barrier! Barrier! Why did he say there was a barrier? There is no barrier between us two. He lied to me, and shall I for that reason Loathe what I love, and what I worshipped, hate? I think we women do not love like that. For if I cut his image from my heart, My heart would, like a bleeding pilgrim, follow That image through the world, and call it back With little cries of love.

[_Enter_ DUKE _equipped for the chase_, _with falconers and hounds_.]

DUKE

Madam, you keep us waiting; You keep my dogs waiting.

DUCHESS

I will not ride to-day.

DUKE

How now, what’s this?

DUCHESS

My Lord, I cannot go.

DUKE

What, pale face, do you dare to stand against me? Why, I could set you on a sorry jade And lead you through the town, till the low rabble You feed toss up their hats and mock at you.

DUCHESS

Have you no word of kindness ever for me?

DUKE

I hold you in the hollow of my hand And have no need on you to waste kind words.

DUCHESS

Well, I will go.

DUKE [_slapping his boot with his whip_]

No, I have changed my mind, You will stay here, and like a faithful wife Watch from the window for our coming back. Were it not dreadful if some accident By chance should happen to your loving Lord? Come, gentlemen, my hounds begin to chafe, And I chafe too, having a patient wife. Where is young Guido?

MAFFIO

My liege, I have not seen him For a full hour past.

DUKE

It matters not, I dare say I shall see him soon enough. Well, Madam, you will sit at home and spin. I do protest, sirs, the domestic virtues Are often very beautiful in others.

[_Exit_ DUKE _with his Court_.]

DUCHESS

The stars have fought against me, that is all, And thus to-night when my Lord lieth asleep, Will I fall upon my dagger, and so cease. My heart is such a stone nothing can reach it Except the dagger’s edge: let it go there, To find what name it carries: ay! to-night Death will divorce the Duke; and yet to-night He may die also, he is very old. Why should he not die? Yesterday his hand Shook with a palsy: men have died from palsy, And why not he? Are there not fevers also, Agues and chills, and other maladies Most incident to old age? No, no, he will not die, he is too sinful; Honest men die before their proper time. Good men will die: men by whose side the Duke In all the sick pollution of his life Seems like a leper: women and children die, But the Duke will not die, he is too sinful. Oh, can it be There is some immortality in sin, Which virtue has not? And does the wicked man Draw life from what to other men were death, Like poisonous plants that on corruption live? No, no, I think God would not suffer that: Yet the Duke will not die: he is too sinful. But I will die alone, and on this night Grim Death shall be my bridegroom, and the tomb My secret house of pleasure: well, what of that? The world’s a graveyard, and we each, like coffins, Within us bear a skeleton.

[_Enter_ LORD MORANZONE _all in black_; _he passes across the back of the stage looking anxiously about_.]

MORANZONE

Where is Guido? I cannot find him anywhere.

DUCHESS [_catches sight of him_]

O God! ’Twas thou who took my love away from me.

MORANZONE [_with a look of joy_]

What, has he left you?

DUCHESS

Nay, you know he has. Oh, give him back to me, give him back, I say, Or I will tear your body limb from limb, And to the common gibbet nail your head Until the carrion crows have stripped it bare. Better you had crossed a hungry lioness Before you came between me and my love.

[_With more pathos_.]

Nay, give him back, you know not how I love him. Here by this chair he knelt a half hour since; ’Twas there he stood, and there he looked at me; This is the hand he kissed, and these the ears Into whose open portals he did pour A tale of love so musical that all The birds stopped singing! Oh, give him back to me.

MORANZONE

He does not love you, Madam.

DUCHESS

May the plague Wither the tongue that says so! Give him back.

MORANZONE

Madam, I tell you you will never see him, Neither to-night, nor any other night.

DUCHESS

What is your name?

MORANZONE

My name? Revenge!

[_Exit_.]

DUCHESS

Revenge! I think I never harmed a little child. What should Revenge do coming to my door? It matters not, for Death is there already, Waiting with his dim torch to light my way. ’Tis true men hate thee, Death, and yet I think Thou wilt be kinder to me than my lover, And so dispatch the messengers at once, Harry the lazy steeds of lingering day, And let the night, thy sister, come instead, And drape the world in mourning; let the owl, Who is thy minister, scream from his tower And wake the toad with hooting, and the bat, That is the slave of dim Persephone, Wheel through the sombre air on wandering wing! Tear up the shrieking mandrakes from the earth And bid them make us music, and tell the mole To dig deep down thy cold and narrow bed, For I shall lie within thine arms to-night.

END OF ACT II.

* * * * *

## ACT III

SCENE

_A large corridor in the Ducal Palace_: _a window_ (_L.C._) _looks out on a view of Padua by moonlight_: _a staircase_ (_R.C._) _leads up to a door with a portière of crimson velvet_, _with the Duke’s arms embroidered in gold on it_: _on the lowest step of the staircase a figure draped in black is sitting_: _the hall is lit by an iron cresset filled with burning tow_: _thunder and lightning outside_: _the time is night_.

[_Enter_ GUIDO _through the window_.]

GUIDO

The wind is rising: how my ladder shook! I thought that every gust would break the cords!

[_Looks out at the city_.]

Christ! What a night: Great thunder in the heavens, and wild lightnings Striking from pinnacle to pinnacle Across the city, till the dim houses seem To shudder and to shake as each new glare Dashes adown the street.

[_Passes across the stage to foot of staircase_.]

Ah! who art thou That sittest on the stair, like unto Death Waiting a guilty soul? [_A pause_.] Canst thou not speak? Or has this storm laid palsy on thy tongue, And chilled thy utterance?

[_The figure rises and takes off his mask_.]

MORANZONE

Guido Ferranti, Thy murdered father laughs for joy to-night.

GUIDO [_confusedly_]

What, art thou here?

MORANZONE

Ay, waiting for your coming.

GUIDO [_looking away from him_]

I did not think to see you, but am glad, That you may know the thing I mean to do.

MORANZONE

First, I would have you know my well-laid plans; Listen: I have set horses at the gate Which leads to Parma: when you have done your business We will ride hence, and by to-morrow night—

GUIDO

It cannot be.

MORANZONE

Nay, but it shall.

GUIDO

Listen, Lord Moranzone, I am resolved not to kill this man.

MORANZONE

Surely my ears are traitors, speak again: It cannot be but age has dulled my powers, I am an old man now: what did you say? You said that with that dagger in your belt You would avenge your father’s bloody murder; Did you not say that?

GUIDO

No, my lord, I said I was resolved not to kill the Duke.

MORANZONE

You said not that; it is my senses mock me; Or else this midnight air o’ercharged with storm Alters your message in the giving it.

GUIDO

Nay, you heard rightly; I’ll not kill this man.

MORANZONE

What of thine oath, thou traitor, what of thine oath?

GUIDO

I am resolved not to keep that oath.

MORANZONE

What of thy murdered father?

GUIDO

Dost thou think My father would be glad to see me coming, This old man’s blood still hot upon mine hands?

MORANZONE

Ay! he would laugh for joy.

GUIDO

I do not think so, There is better knowledge in the other world; Vengeance is God’s, let God himself revenge.

MORANZONE

Thou art God’s minister of vengeance.

GUIDO

No! God hath no minister but his own hand. I will not kill this man.

MORANZONE

Why are you here, If not to kill him, then?

GUIDO

Lord Moranzone, I purpose to ascend to the Duke’s chamber, And as he lies asleep lay on his breast The dagger and this writing; when he awakes Then he will know who held him in his power And slew him not: this is the noblest vengeance Which I can take.

MORANZONE

You will not slay him?

GUIDO

No.

MORANZONE

Ignoble son of a noble father, Who sufferest this man who sold that father To live an hour.

GUIDO

’Twas thou that hindered me; I would have killed him in the open square, The day I saw him first.

MORANZONE

It was not yet time; Now it is time, and, like some green-faced girl, Thou pratest of forgiveness.

GUIDO

No! revenge: The right revenge my father’s son should take.

MORANZONE

You are a coward, Take out the knife, get to the Duke’s chamber, And bring me back his heart upon the blade. When he is dead, then you can talk to me Of noble vengeances.

GUIDO

Upon thine honour, And by the love thou bearest my father’s name, Dost thou think my father, that great gentleman, That generous soldier, that most chivalrous lord, Would have crept at night-time, like a common thief, And stabbed an old man sleeping in his bed, However he had wronged him: tell me that.

MORANZONE

[after some hesitation]

You have sworn an oath, see that you keep that oath. Boy, do you think I do not know your secret, Your traffic with the Duchess?

GUIDO

Silence, liar! The very moon in heaven is not more chaste. Nor the white stars so pure.

MORANZONE

And yet, you love her; Weak fool, to let love in upon your life, Save as a plaything.

GUIDO

You do well to talk: Within your veins, old man, the pulse of youth Throbs with no ardour. Your eyes full of rheum Have against Beauty closed their filmy doors, And your clogged ears, losing their natural sense, Have shut you from the music of the world. You talk of love! You know not what it is.

MORANZONE

Oh, in my time, boy, have I walked i’ the moon, Swore I would live on kisses and on blisses, Swore I would die for love, and did not die, Wrote love bad verses; ay, and sung them badly, Like all true lovers: Oh, I have done the tricks! I know the partings and the chamberings; We are all animals at best, and love Is merely passion with a holy name.

GUIDO

Now then I know you have not loved at all. Love is the sacrament of life; it sets Virtue where virtue was not; cleanses men Of all the vile pollutions of this world; It is the fire which purges gold from dross, It is the fan which winnows wheat from chaff, It is the spring which in some wintry soil Makes innocence to blossom like a rose. The days are over when God walked with men, But Love, which is his image, holds his place. When a man loves a woman, then he knows God’s secret, and the secret of the world. There is no house so lowly or so mean, Which, if their hearts be pure who live in it, Love will not enter; but if bloody murder Knock at the Palace gate and is let in, Love like a wounded thing creeps out and dies. This is the punishment God sets on sin. The wicked cannot love.

[_A groan comes from the_ DUKE’S _chamber_.]

Ah! What is that? Do you not hear? ’Twas nothing. So I think That it is woman’s mission by their love To save the souls of men: and loving her, My Lady, my white Beatrice, I begin To see a nobler and a holier vengeance In letting this man live, than doth reside In bloody deeds o’ night, stabs in the dark, And young hands clutching at a palsied throat. It was, I think, for love’s sake that Lord Christ, Who was indeed himself incarnate Love, Bade every man forgive his enemy.

MORANZONE [_sneeringly_]

That was in Palestine, not Padua; And said for saints: I have to do with men.

GUIDO

It was for all time said.

MORANZONE

And your white Duchess, What will she do to thank you?

GUIDO

Alas, I will not see her face again. ’Tis but twelve hours since I parted from her, So suddenly, and with such violent passion, That she has shut her heart against me now: No, I will never see her.

MORANZONE

What will you do?

GUIDO

After that I have laid the dagger there, Get hence to-night from Padua.

MORANZONE

And then?

GUIDO

I will take service with the Doge at Venice, And bid him pack me straightway to the wars, And there I will, being now sick of life, Throw that poor life against some desperate spear.

[_A groan from the_ DUKE’S _chamber again_.]

Did you not hear a voice?

MORANZONE

I always hear, From the dim confines of some sepulchre, A voice that cries for vengeance. We waste time, It will be morning soon; are you resolved You will not kill the Duke?

GUIDO

I am resolved.

MORANZONE

O wretched father, lying unavenged.

GUIDO

More wretched, were thy son a murderer.

MORANZONE

Why, what is life?

GUIDO

I do not know, my lord, I did not give it, and I dare not take it.

MORANZONE

I do not thank God often; but I think I thank him now that I have got no son! And you, what bastard blood flows in your veins That when you have your enemy in your grasp You let him go! I would that I had left you With the dull hinds that reared you.

GUIDO

Better perhaps That you had done so! May be better still I’d not been born to this distressful world.

MORANZONE

Farewell!

GUIDO

Farewell! Some day, Lord Moranzone, You will understand my vengeance.

MORANZONE

Never, boy.

[_Gets out of window and exit by rope ladder_.]

GUIDO

Father, I think thou knowest my resolve, And with this nobler vengeance art content. Father, I think in letting this man live That I am doing what thou wouldst have done. Father, I know not if a human voice Can pierce the iron gateway of the dead, Or if the dead are set in ignorance Of what we do, or do not, for their sakes. And yet I feel a presence in the air, There is a shadow standing at my side, And ghostly kisses seem to touch my lips, And leave them holier. [_Kneels down_.] O father, if ’tis thou, Canst thou not burst through the decrees of death, And if corporeal semblance show thyself, That I may touch thy hand! No, there is nothing. [_Rises_.] ’Tis the night that cheats us with its phantoms, And, like a puppet-master, makes us think That things are real which are not. It grows late. Now must I to my business.

[_Pulls out a letter from his doublet and reads it_.]

When he wakes, And sees this letter, and the dagger with it, Will he not have some loathing for his life, Repent, perchance, and lead a better life, Or will he mock because a young man spared His natural enemy? I do not care. Father, it is thy bidding that I do, Thy bidding, and the bidding of my love Which teaches me to know thee as thou art.

[_Ascends staircase stealthily_, _and just as he reaches out his hand to draw back the curtain the Duchess appears all in white_. GUIDO _starts back_.]

DUCHESS

Guido! what do you here so late?

GUIDO

O white and spotless angel of my life, Sure thou hast come from Heaven with a message That mercy is more noble than revenge?

DUCHESS

There is no barrier between us now.

GUIDO

None, love, nor shall be.

DUCHESS

I have seen to that.

GUIDO

Tarry here for me.

DUCHESS

No, you are not going? You will not leave me as you did before?

GUIDO

I will return within a moment’s space, But first I must repair to the Duke’s chamber, And leave this letter and this dagger there, That when he wakes—

DUCHESS

When who wakes?

GUIDO

Why, the Duke.

DUCHESS

He will not wake again.

GUIDO

What, is he dead?

DUCHESS

Ay! he is dead.

GUIDO

O God! how wonderful Are all thy secret ways! Who would have said That on this very night, when I had yielded Into thy hands the vengeance that is thine, Thou with thy finger wouldst have touched the man, And bade him come before thy judgment seat.

DUCHESS

I have just killed him.

GUIDO [_in horror_]

Oh!

DUCHESS

He was asleep; Come closer, love, and I will tell you all. I had resolved to kill myself to-night. About an hour ago I waked from sleep, And took my dagger from beneath my pillow, Where I had hidden it to serve my need, And drew it from the sheath, and felt the edge, And thought of you, and how I loved you, Guido, And turned to fall upon it, when I marked The old man sleeping, full of years and sin; There lay he muttering curses in his sleep, And as I looked upon his evil face Suddenly like a flame there flashed across me, There is the barrier which Guido spoke of: You said there lay a barrier between us, What barrier but he?— I hardly know What happened, but a steaming mist of blood Rose up between us two.

GUIDO

Oh, horrible!

DUCHESS

And then he groaned, And then he groaned no more! I only heard The dripping of the blood upon the floor.

GUIDO

Enough, enough.

DUCHESS

Will you not kiss me now? Do you remember saying that women’s love Turns men to angels? well, the love of man Turns women into martyrs; for its sake We do or suffer anything.

GUIDO

O God!

DUCHESS

Will you not speak?

GUIDO

I cannot speak at all.

DUCHESS