Chapter 5 of 6 · 3883 words · ~19 min read

Part 5

Speak, my Lord Justice.

LORD JUSTICE

Your Grace, it cannot be: The laws of Padua are most certain here: And by those laws the common murderer even May with his own lips plead, and make defence.

DUCHESS

This is no common murderer, Lord Justice, But a great outlaw, and a most vile traitor, Taken in open arms against the state. For he who slays the man who rules a state Slays the state also, widows every wife, And makes each child an orphan, and no less Is to be held a public enemy, Than if he came with mighty ordonnance, And all the spears of Venice at his back, To beat and batter at our city gates— Nay, is more dangerous to our commonwealth, For walls and gates, bastions and forts, and things Whose common elements are wood and stone May be raised up, but who can raise again The ruined body of my murdered lord, And bid it live and laugh?

MAFFIO

Now by Saint Paul I do not think that they will let him speak.

JEPPO VITELLOZZO

There is much in this, listen.

DUCHESS

Wherefore now, Throw ashes on the head of Padua, With sable banners hang each silent street, Let every man be clad in solemn black; But ere we turn to these sad rites of mourning Let us bethink us of the desperate hand Which wrought and brought this ruin on our state, And straightway pack him to that narrow house, Where no voice is, but with a little dust Death fills right up the lying mouths of men.

GUIDO

Unhand me, knaves! I tell thee, my Lord Justice, Thou mightst as well bid the untrammelled ocean, The winter whirlwind, or the Alpine storm, Not roar their will, as bid me hold my peace! Ay! though ye put your knives into my throat, Each grim and gaping wound shall find a tongue, And cry against you.

LORD JUSTICE

Sir, this violence Avails you nothing; for save the tribunal Give thee a lawful right to open speech, Naught that thou sayest can be credited.

[_The_ DUCHESS _smiles and_ GUIDO _falls back with a gesture of despair_.]

Madam, myself, and these wise Justices, Will with your Grace’s sanction now retire Into another chamber, to decide Upon this difficult matter of the law, And search the statutes and the precedents.

DUCHESS

Go, my Lord Justice, search the statutes well, Nor let this brawling traitor have his way.

MORANZONE

Go, my Lord Justice, search thy conscience well, Nor let a man be sent to death unheard.

[_Exit the_ LORD JUSTICE _and the Judges_.]

DUCHESS

Silence, thou evil genius of my life! Thou com’st between us two a second time; This time, my lord, I think the turn is mine.

GUIDO

I shall not die till I have uttered voice.

DUCHESS

Thou shalt die silent, and thy secret with thee.

GUIDO

Art thou that Beatrice, Duchess of Padua?

DUCHESS

I am what thou hast made me; look at me well, I am thy handiwork.

MAFFIO

See, is she not Like that white tigress which we saw at Venice, Sent by some Indian soldan to the Doge?

JEPPO

Hush! she may hear thy chatter.

HEADSMAN

My young fellow, I do not know why thou shouldst care to speak, Seeing my axe is close upon thy neck, And words of thine will never blunt its edge. But if thou art so bent upon it, why Thou mightest plead unto the Churchman yonder: The common people call him kindly here, Indeed I know he has a kindly soul.

GUIDO

This man, whose trade is death, hath courtesies More than the others.

HEADSMAN

Why, God love you, sir, I’ll do you your last service on this earth.

GUIDO

My good Lord Cardinal, in a Christian land, With Lord Christ’s face of mercy looking down From the high seat of Judgment, shall a man Die unabsolved, unshrived? And if not so, May I not tell this dreadful tale of sin, If any sin there be upon my soul?

DUCHESS

Thou dost but waste thy time.

CARDINAL

Alack, my son, I have no power with the secular arm. My task begins when justice has been done, To urge the wavering sinner to repent And to confess to Holy Church’s ear The dreadful secrets of a sinful mind.

DUCHESS

Thou mayest speak to the confessional Until thy lips grow weary of their tale, But here thou shalt not speak.

GUIDO

My reverend father, You bring me but cold comfort.

CARDINAL

Nay, my son, For the great power of our mother Church, Ends not with this poor bubble of a world, Of which we are but dust, as Jerome saith, For if the sinner doth repentant die, Our prayers and holy masses much avail To bring the guilty soul from purgatory.

DUCHESS

And when in purgatory thou seest my Lord With that red star of blood upon his heart, Tell him I sent thee hither.

GUIDO

O dear God!

MORANZONE

This is the woman, is it, whom you loved?

CARDINAL

Your Grace is very cruel to this man.

DUCHESS

No more than he was cruel to her Grace.

CARDINAL

Yet mercy is the sovereign right of princes.

DUCHESS

I got no mercy, and I give it not. He hath changed my heart into a heart of stone, He hath sown rank nettles in a goodly field, He hath poisoned the wells of pity in my breast, He hath withered up all kindness at the root; My life is as some famine murdered land, Whence all good things have perished utterly: I am what he hath made me.

[_The_ DUCHESS _weeps_.]

JEPPO

Is it not strange That she should so have loved the wicked Duke?

MAFFIO

It is most strange when women love their lords, And when they love them not it is most strange.

JEPPO

What a philosopher thou art, Petrucci!

MAFFIO

Ay! I can bear the ills of other men, Which is philosophy.

DUCHESS

They tarry long, These greybeards and their council; bid them come; Bid them come quickly, else I think my heart Will beat itself to bursting: not indeed, That I here care to live; God knows my life Is not so full of joy, yet, for all that, I would not die companionless, or go Lonely to Hell. Look, my Lord Cardinal, Canst thou not see across my forehead here, In scarlet letters writ, the word Revenge? Fetch me some water, I will wash it off: ’Twas branded there last night, but in the day-time I need not wear it, need I, my Lord Cardinal? Oh, how it sears and burns into my brain: Give me a knife; not that one, but another, And I will cut it out.

CARDINAL

It is most natural To be incensed against the murderous hand That treacherously stabbed your sleeping lord.

DUCHESS

I would, old Cardinal, I could burn that hand; But it will burn hereafter.

CARDINAL

Nay, the Church Ordains us to forgive our enemies.

DUCHESS

Forgiveness? what is that? I never got it. They come at last: well, my Lord Justice, well.

[_Enter the_ LORD JUSTICE.]

LORD JUSTICE

Most gracious Lady, and our sovereign Liege, We have long pondered on the point at issue, And much considered of your Grace’s wisdom, And never wisdom spake from fairer lips—

DUCHESS

Proceed, sir, without compliment.

LORD JUSTICE

We find, As your own Grace did rightly signify, That any citizen, who by force or craft Conspires against the person of the Liege, Is _ipso facto_ outlaw, void of rights Such as pertain to other citizens, Is traitor, and a public enemy, Who may by any casual sword be slain Without the slayer’s danger; nay, if brought Into the presence of the tribunal, Must with dumb lips and silence reverent Listen unto his well-deserved doom, Nor has the privilege of open speech.

DUCHESS

I thank thee, my Lord Justice, heartily; I like your law: and now I pray dispatch This public outlaw to his righteous doom; What is there more?

LORD JUSTICE

Ay, there is more, your Grace. This man being alien born, not Paduan, Nor by allegiance bound unto the Duke, Save such as common nature doth lay down, Hath, though accused of treasons manifold, Whose slightest penalty is certain death, Yet still the right of public utterance Before the people and the open court; Nay, shall be much entreated by the Court, To make some formal pleading for his life, Lest his own city, righteously incensed, Should with an unjust trial tax our state, And wars spring up against the commonwealth: So merciful are the laws of Padua Unto the stranger living in her gates.

DUCHESS

Being of my Lord’s household, is he stranger here?

LORD JUSTICE

Ay, until seven years of service spent He cannot be a Paduan citizen.

GUIDO

I thank thee, my Lord Justice, heartily; I like your law.

SECOND CITIZEN

I like no law at all: Were there no law there’d be no law-breakers, So all men would be virtuous.

FIRST CITIZEN

So they would; ’Tis a wise saying that, and brings you far.

TIPSTAFF

Ay! to the gallows, knave.

DUCHESS

Is this the law?

LORD JUSTICE

It is the law most certainly, my liege.

DUCHESS

Show me the book: ’tis written in blood-red.

JEPPO

Look at the Duchess.

DUCHESS

Thou accursed law, I would that I could tear thee from the state As easy as I tear thee from this book.

[_Tears out the page_.]

Come here, Count Bardi: are you honourable? Get a horse ready for me at my house, For I must ride to Venice instantly.

BARDI

To Venice, Madam?

DUCHESS

Not a word of this, Go, go at once. [_Exit_ COUNT BARDI.] A moment, my Lord Justice. If, as thou sayest it, this is the law— Nay, nay, I doubt not that thou sayest right, Though right be wrong in such a case as this— May I not by the virtue of mine office Adjourn this court until another day?

LORD JUSTICE

Madam, you cannot stay a trial for blood.

DUCHESS

I will not tarry then to hear this man Rail with rude tongue against our sacred person. Come, gentlemen.

LORD JUSTICE

My liege, You cannot leave this court until the prisoner Be purged or guilty of this dread offence.

DUCHESS

Cannot, Lord Justice? By what right do you Set barriers in my path where I should go? Am I not Duchess here in Padua, And the state’s regent?

LORD JUSTICE

For that reason, Madam, Being the fountain-head of life and death Whence, like a mighty river, justice flows, Without thy presence justice is dried up And fails of purpose: thou must tarry here.

DUCHESS

What, wilt thou keep me here against my will?

LORD JUSTICE

We pray thy will be not against the law.

DUCHESS

What if I force my way out of the court?

LORD JUSTICE

Thou canst not force the Court to give thee way.

DUCHESS

I will not tarry. [_Rises from her seat_.]

LORD JUSTICE

Is the usher here? Let him stand forth. [_Usher comes forward_.] Thou knowest thy business, sir.

[_The Usher closes the doors of the court_, _which are L._, _and when the_ DUCHESS _and her retinue approach_, _kneels down_.]

USHER

In all humility I beseech your Grace Turn not my duty to discourtesy, Nor make my unwelcome office an offence.

DUCHESS

Is there no gentleman amongst you all To prick this prating fellow from our way?

MAFFIO [_drawing his sword_]

Ay! that will I.

LORD JUSTICE

Count Maffio, have a care, And you, sir. [_To_ JEPPO.] The first man who draws his sword Upon the meanest officer of this Court, Dies before nightfall.

DUCHESS

Sirs, put up your swords: It is most meet that I should hear this man.

[_Goes back to throne_.]

MORANZONE

Now hast thou got thy enemy in thy hand.

LORD JUSTICE [_taking the time-glass up_]

Guido Ferranti, while the crumbling sand Falls through this time-glass, thou hast leave to speak. This and no more.

GUIDO

It is enough, my lord.

LORD JUSTICE

Thou standest on the extreme verge of death; See that thou speakest nothing but the truth, Naught else will serve thee.

GUIDO

If I speak it not, Then give my body to the headsman there.

LORD JUSTICE [_turns the time-glass_]

Let there be silence while the prisoner speaks.

TIPSTAFF

Silence in the Court there.

GUIDO

My Lords Justices, And reverent judges of this worthy court, I hardly know where to begin my tale, So strangely dreadful is this history. First, let me tell you of what birth I am. I am the son of that good Duke Lorenzo Who was with damned treachery done to death By a most wicked villain, lately Duke Of this good town of Padua.

LORD JUSTICE

Have a care, It will avail thee nought to mock this prince Who now lies in his coffin.

MAFFIO

By Saint James, This is the Duke of Parma’s rightful heir.

JEPPO

I always thought him noble.

GUIDO

I confess That with the purport of a just revenge, A most just vengeance on a man of blood, I entered the Duke’s household, served his will, Sat at his board, drank of his wine, and was His intimate: so much I will confess, And this too, that I waited till he grew To give the fondest secrets of his life Into my keeping, till he fawned on me, And trusted me in every private matter Even as my noble father trusted him; That for this thing I waited.

[_To the Headsman_.]

Thou man of blood! Turn not thine axe on me before the time: Who knows if it be time for me to die? Is there no other neck in court but mine?

LORD JUSTICE

The sand within the time-glass flows apace. Come quickly to the murder of the Duke.

GUIDO

I will be brief: Last night at twelve o’ the clock, By a strong rope I scaled the palace wall, With purport to revenge my father’s murder— Ay! with that purport I confess, my lord. This much I will acknowledge, and this also, That as with stealthy feet I climbed the stair Which led unto the chamber of the Duke, And reached my hand out for the scarlet cloth Which shook and shivered in the gusty door, Lo! the white moon that sailed in the great heaven Flooded with silver light the darkened room, Night lit her candles for me, and I saw The man I hated, cursing in his sleep; And thinking of a most dear father murdered, Sold to the scaffold, bartered to the block, I smote the treacherous villain to the heart With this same dagger, which by chance I found Within the chamber.

DUCHESS [_rising from her seat_]

Oh!

GUIDO [_hurriedly_]

I killed the Duke. Now, my Lord Justice, if I may crave a boon, Suffer me not to see another sun Light up the misery of this loathsome world.

LORD JUSTICE

Thy boon is granted, thou shalt die to-night. Lead him away. Come, Madam

[GUIDO _is led off_; _as he goes the_ DUCHESS _stretches out her arms and rushes down the stage_.]

DUCHESS

Guido! Guido!

[_Faints_.]

_Tableau_

END OF ACT IV.

* * * * *

## ACT V

SCENE

_A dungeon in the public prison of Padua_; _Guido lies asleep on a pallet_ (_L.C._); _a table with a goblet on it is set_ (_L.C._); _five soldiers are drinking and playing dice in the corner on a stone table_; _one of them has a lantern hung to his halbert_; _a torch is set in the wall over Guido’s head_. _Two grated windows behind_, _one on each side of the door which is_ (_C._), _look out into the passage_; _the stage is rather dark_.

FIRST SOLDIER [_throws dice_]

Sixes again! good Pietro.

SECOND SOLDIER

I’ faith, lieutenant, I will play with thee no more. I will lose everything.

THIRD SOLDIER

Except thy wits; thou art safe there!

SECOND SOLDIER

Ay, ay, he cannot take them from me.

THIRD SOLDIER

No; for thou hast no wits to give him.

THE SOLDIERS [_loudly_]

Ha! ha! ha!

FIRST SOLDIER

Silence! You will wake the prisoner; he is asleep.

SECOND SOLDIER

What matter? He will get sleep enough when he is buried. I warrant he’d be glad if we could wake him when he’s in the grave.

THIRD SOLDIER

Nay! for when he wakes there it will be judgment day.

SECOND SOLDIER

Ay, and he has done a grievous thing; for, look you, to murder one of us who are but flesh and blood is a sin, and to kill a Duke goes being near against the law.

FIRST SOLDIER

Well, well, he was a wicked Duke.

SECOND SOLDIER

And so he should not have touched him; if one meddles with wicked people, one is like to be tainted with their wickedness.

THIRD SOLDIER

Ay, that is true. How old is the prisoner?

SECOND SOLDIER

Old enough to do wrong, and not old enough to be wise.

FIRST SOLDIER

Why, then, he might be any age.

SECOND SOLDIER

They say the Duchess wanted to pardon him.

FIRST SOLDIER

Is that so?

SECOND SOLDIER

Ay, and did much entreat the Lord Justice, but he would not.

FIRST SOLDIER

I had thought, Pietro, that the Duchess was omnipotent.

SECOND SOLDIER

True, she is well-favoured; I know none so comely.

THE SOLDIERS

Ha! ha! ha!

FIRST SOLDIER

I meant I had thought our Duchess could do anything.

SECOND SOLDIER

Nay, for he is now given over to the Justices, and they will see that justice be done; they and stout Hugh the headsman; but when his head is off, why then the Duchess can pardon him if she likes; there is no law against that.

FIRST SOLDIER

I do not think that stout Hugh, as you call him, will do the business for him after all. This Guido is of gentle birth, and so by the law can drink poison first, if it so be his pleasure.

THIRD SOLDIER

And if he does not drink it?

FIRST SOLDIER

Why, then, they will kill him.

[_Knocking comes at the door_.]

FIRST SOLDIER

See who that is.

[_Third Soldier goes over and looks through the wicket_.]

THIRD SOLDIER

It is a woman, sir.

FIRST SOLDIER

Is she pretty?

THIRD SOLDIER

I can’t tell. She is masked, lieutenant.

FIRST SOLDIER

It is only very ugly or very beautiful women who ever hide their faces. Let her in.

[_Soldier opens the door_, _and the_ DUCHESS _masked and cloaked enters_.]

DUCHESS [_to Third Soldier_]

Are you the officer on guard?

FIRST SOLDIER [_coming forward_]

I am, madam.

DUCHESS

I must see the prisoner alone.

FIRST SOLDIER

I am afraid that is impossible. [_The_ DUCHESS _hands him a ring_, _he looks at and returns it to her with a bow and makes a sign to the Soldiers_.] Stand without there.

[_Exeunt the Soldiers_.]

DUCHESS

Officer, your men are somewhat rough.

FIRST SOLDIER

They mean no harm.

DUCHESS

I shall be going back in a few minutes. As I pass through the corridor do not let them try and lift my mask.

FIRST SOLDIER

You need not be afraid, madam.

DUCHESS

I have a particular reason for wishing my face not to be seen.

FIRST SOLDIER

Madam, with this ring you can go in and out as you please; it is the Duchess’s own ring.

DUCHESS

Leave us. [_The Soldier turns to go out_.] A moment, sir. For what hour is . . .

FIRST SOLDIER

At twelve o’clock, madam, we have orders to lead him out; but I dare say he won’t wait for us; he’s more like to take a drink out of that poison yonder. Men are afraid of the headsman.

DUCHESS

Is that poison?

FIRST SOLDIER

Ay, madam, and very sure poison too.

DUCHESS

You may go, sir.

FIRST SOLDIER

By Saint James, a pretty hand! I wonder who she is. Some woman who loved him, perhaps.

[_Exit_.]

DUCHESS [_taking her mark off_]

At last! He can escape now in this cloak and vizard, We are of a height almost: they will not know him; As for myself what matter? So that he does not curse me as he goes, I care but little: I wonder will he curse me. He has the right. It is eleven now; They will not come till twelve.

[_Goes over to the table_.]

So this is poison. Is it not strange that in this liquor here There lies the key to all philosophies?

[_Takes the cup up_.]

It smells of poppies. I remember well That, when I was a child in Sicily, I took the scarlet poppies from the corn, And made a little wreath, and my grave uncle, Don John of Naples, laughed: I did not know That they had power to stay the springs of life, To make the pulse cease beating, and to chill The blood in its own vessels, till men come And with a hook hale the poor body out, And throw it in a ditch: the body, ay,— What of the soul? that goes to heaven or hell. Where will mine go?

[_Takes the torch from the wall_, _and goes over to the bed_.]

How peacefully here he sleeps, Like a young schoolboy tired out with play: I would that I could sleep so peacefully, But I have dreams. [_Bending over him_.] Poor boy: what if I kissed him? No, no, my lips would burn him like a fire. He has had enough of Love. Still that white neck Will ’scape the headsman: I have seen to that: He will get hence from Padua to-night, And that is well. You are very wise, Lord Justices, And yet you are not half so wise as I am, And that is well. O God! how I have loved you, And what a bloody flower did Love bear!

[_Comes back to the table_.]

What if I drank these juices, and so ceased? Were it not better than to wait till Death Come to my bed with all his serving men, Remorse, disease, old age, and misery? I wonder does one suffer much: I think That I am very young to die like this, But so it must be. Why, why should I die? He will escape to-night, and so his blood Will not be on my head. No, I must die; I have been guilty, therefore I must die; He loves me not, and therefore I must die: I would die happier if he would kiss me, But he will not do that. I did not know him. I thought he meant to sell me to the Judge; That is not strange; we women never know Our lovers till they leave us.

[_Bell begins to toll_.]

Thou vile bell, That like a bloodhound from thy brazen throat Call’st for this man’s life, cease! thou shalt not get it. He stirs—I must be quick: [_Takes up cup_.] O Love, Love, Love, I did not think that I would pledge thee thus!

[_Drinks poison_, _and sets the cup down on the table behind her_: _the noise wakens_ GUIDO, _who starts up_, _and does not see what she has done_. _There is silence for a minute_, _each looking at the other_.]