_A few weeks later. The new music room in the Palace of
Mantua. Windows on both sides admitting a view of the lake, so
that the hall looks like a galley surrounded by water.
Outside, morning: the lake, the sky, and the lines of poplars
on the banks, are all made of various textures of luminous
blue. From the gardens below, bay trees raise their flowering
branches against the windows. In every window an antique
statue: the Mantuan Muse, the Mantuan Apollo, etc. In the
walls between the windows are framed panels representing
allegorical triumphs: those nearest the spectator are the
triumphs of Chastity and of Fortitude. At the end of the room,
steps and a balustrade, with a harpsichord and double basses
on a dais. The roof of the room is blue and gold; a deep blue
ground, constellated with a gold labyrinth in relief. Round
the cornice, blue and gold also, the inscription_: "RECTAS
PETO," _and the name_ Ferdinandus Mantuae Dux.
_The_ PRINCESS HIPPOLYTA _of Mirandola, cousin to the_ DUKE;
_and_ DIEGO. HIPPOLYTA _is very young, but with the strength
and grace, and the candour, rather of a beautiful boy than of
a woman. She is dazzlingly fair; and her hair, arranged in
waves like an antique amazon's, is stiff and lustrous, as if
made of threads of gold. The brows are wide and straight,
like a man's; the glance fearless, but virginal and almost
childlike_. HIPPOLYTA _is dressed in black and gold,
particoloured, like Mantegna's Duchess. An old man, in
scholar's gown, the_ Princess's Greek Tutor, _has just
introduced_ DIEGO _and retired_.
DIEGO
The Duke your cousin's greeting and service, illustrious
damsel. His Highness bids me ask how you are rested after your
journey hither.
PRINCESS
Tell my cousin, good Signor Diego, that I am touched at his
concern for me. And tell him, such is the virtuous air of his
abode, that a whole night's rest sufficed to right me from the
fatigue of two hours' journey in a litter; for I am new to
that exercise, being accustomed to follow my poor father's
hounds and falcons only on horseback. You shall thank the Duke
my cousin for his civility. (PRINCESS _laughs_.)
DIEGO
(_bowing, and keeping his eyes on the_ PRINCESS _as he
speaks_)
His Highness wished to make his fair cousin smile. He has told
me often how your illustrious father, the late Lord of
Mirandola, brought his only daughter up in such a wise as
scarcely to lack a son, with manly disciplines of mind and
body; and that he named you fittingly after Hippolyta, who was
Queen of the Amazons, virgins unlike their vain and weakly
sex.
PRINCESS
She was; and wife of Theseus. But it seems that the poets care
but little for the like of her; they tell us nothing of her,
compared with her poor predecessor, Cretan Ariadne, she who
had given Theseus the clue of the labyrinth. Methinks that
maze must have been mazier than this blue and gold one
overhead. What say you, Signor Diego?
DIEGO (_who has started slightly_)
Ariadne? Was she the predecessor of Hippolyta? I did not know
it. I am but a poor scholar, Madam; knowing the names and
stories of gods and heroes only from songs and masques. The
Duke should have selected some fitter messenger to hold
converse with his fair learned cousin.
PRINCESS (_gravely_)
Speak not like that, Signor Diego. You may not be a scholar,
as you say; but surely you are a philosopher. Nay, conceive
my meaning: the fame of your virtuous equanimity has spread
further than from this city to my small dominions. Your
precocious wisdom--for you seem younger than I, and youths do
not delight in being very wise--your moderation in the use of
sudden greatness, your magnanimous treatment of enemies and
detractors; and the manner in which, disdainful of all
personal advantage, you have surrounded the Duke my cousin
with wisest counsellors and men expert in office--such are the
results men seek from the study of philosophy.
DIEGO
(_at first astonished, then amused, a little sadly_)
You are mistaken, noble maiden. 'Tis not philosophy to refrain
from things that do not tempt one. Riches or power are useless
to me. As for the rest, you are mistaken also. The Duke is
wise and valiant, and chooses therefore wise and valiant
counsellors.
PRINCESS (_impetuously_)
You are eloquent, Signor Diego, even as you are wise! But your
words do not deceive me. Ambition lurks in every one; and
power intoxicates all save those who have schooled themselves
to use it as a means to virtue.
DIEGO
The thought had never struck me; but men have told me what you
tell me now.
PRINCESS
Even Antiquity, which surpasses us so vastly in all manner of
wisdom and heroism, can boast of very few like you. The
noblest souls have grown tyrannical and rapacious and
foolhardy in sudden elevation. Remember Alcibiades, the
beloved pupil of the wisest of all mortals. Signor Diego, you
may have read but little; but you have meditated to much
profit, and must have wrestled like some great athlete with
all that baser self which the divine Plato has told us how to
master.
DIEGO (_shaking his head_)
Alas, Madam, your words make me ashamed, and yet they make me
smile, being so far of the mark! I have wrestled with nothing;
followed only my soul's blind impulses.
PRINCESS (_gravely_)
It must be, then, dear Signor Diego, as the Pythagoreans held:
the discipline of music is virtuous for the soul. There is a
power in numbered and measured sound very akin to wisdom;
mysterious and excellent; as indeed the Ancients fabled in the
tales of Orpheus and Amphion, musicians and great sages and
legislators of states. I have long desired your conversation,
admirable Diego.
DIEGO (_with secret contempt_)
Noble maiden, such words exceed my poor unscholarly
appreciation. The antique worthies whom you name are for me
merely figures in tapestries and frescoes, quaint greybeards
in laurel wreaths and helmets; and I can scarcely tell whether
the Ladies Fortitude and Rhetoric with whom they hold
converse, are real daughters of kings, or mere Arts and
Virtues. But the Duke, a learned and judicious prince, will
set due store by his youthful cousin's learning. As for me,
simpleton and ignoramus that I am, all I see is that Princess
Hippolyta is very beautiful and very young.
PRINCESS
(_sighing a little, but with great simplicity_)
I know it. I am young, and perhaps crude; although I study
hard to learn the rules of wisdom. You, Diego, seem to know
them without study.
DIEGO
I know somewhat of the world and of men, gracious Princess,
but that can scarce be called knowing wisdom. Say rather
knowing blindness, envy, cruelty, endless nameless folly in
others and oneself. But why should you seek to be wise? you
who are fair, young, a princess, and betrothed from your
cradle to a great prince? Be beautiful, be young, be what you
are, a woman.
Diego _has said this last word with emphasis, but the_
Princess _has not noticed the sarcasm in his voice_.
PRINCESS (_shaking her head_)
That is not my lot. I was destined, as you said, to be the
wife of a great prince; and my dear father trained me to fill
that office.
DIEGO
Well, and to be beautiful, young, radiant; to be a woman; is
not that the office of a wife?
PRINCESS
I have not much experience. But my father told me, and I have
gathered from books, that in the wives of princes, such gifts
are often thrown away; that other women, supplying them, seem
to supply them better. Look at my cousin's mother. I can
remember her still beautiful, young, and most tenderly loving.
Yet the Duke, my uncle, disdained her, and all she got was
loneliness and heartbreak. An honourable woman, a princess,
cannot compete with those who study to please and to please
only. She must either submit to being ousted from her
husband's love, or soar above it into other regions.
DIEGO (_interested_)
Other regions?
PRINCESS
Higher ones. She must be fit to be her husband's help, and to
nurse his sons to valour and wisdom.
DIEGO
I see. The Prince must know that besides all the knights that
he summons to battle, and all the wise men whom he hears in
council, there is another knight, in rather lighter armour and
quicker tired, another counsellor, less experienced and of
less steady temper, ready for use. Is this great gain?
PRINCESS
It is strange that being a man, you should conceive of women
from----
DIEGO
From a man's standpoint?
PRINCESS
Nay; methinks a woman's. For I observe that women, when they
wish to help men, think first of all of some transparent
masquerade, donning men's clothes, at all events in metaphor,
in order to be near their lovers when not wanted.
DIEGO (_hastily_)
Donning men's clothes? A masquerade? I fail to follow your
meaning, gracious maiden.
PRINCESS (_simply_)
So I have learned at least from our poets. Angelica, and
Bradamante and Fiordispina, scouring the country after their
lovers, who were busy enough without them. I prefer Penelope,
staying at home to save the lands and goods of Ulysses, and
bringing up his son to rescue and avenge him.
DIEGO (_reassured and indifferent_)
Did Ulysses love Penelope any better for it, Madam? better
than poor besotted Menelaus, after all his injuries, loved
Helen back in Sparta?
PRINCESS
That is not the question. A woman born to be a prince's wife
and prince's mother, does her work not for the sake of
something greater than love, whether much or little.
DIEGO
For what then?
PRINCESS
Does a well-bred horse or excellent falcon do its duty to
please its master? No; but because such is its nature.
Similarly, methinks, a woman bred to be a princess works with
her husband, for her husband, not for any reward, but because
he and she are of the same breed, and obey the same instincts.
DIEGO
Ah!----Then happiness, love,--all that a woman craves for?
PRINCESS
Are accidents. Are they not so in the life of a prince? Love
he may snatch; and she, being in woman's fashion not allowed
to snatch, may receive as a gift, or not. But received or
snatched, it is not either's business; not their nature's true
fulfilment.
DIEGO
You think so, Lady?
PRINCESS
I am bound to think so. I was born to it and taught it. You
know the Duke, my cousin,--well, I am his bride, not being
born his sister.
DIEGO
And you are satisfied? O beautiful Princess, you are of
illustrious lineage and mind, and learned. Your father brought
you up on Plutarch instead of Amadis; you know many things;
but there is one, methinks, no one can know the nature of it
until he has it.
PRINCESS
What is that, pray?
DIEGO
A heart. Because you have not got one yet, you make your plans
without it,--a negligible item in your life.
Princess
I am not a child.
DIEGO
But not yet a woman.
PRINCESS (_meditatively_)
You think, then----
DIEGO
I do not _think_; I _know_. And _you_ will know, some day. And
then----
PRINCESS
Then I shall suffer. Why, we must all suffer. Say that, having
a heart, a heart for husband or child, means certain
grief,--well, does not riding, walking down your stairs, mean
the chance of broken bones? Does not living mean old age,
disease, possible blindness or paralysis, and quite inevitable
aches? If, as you say, I must needs grow a heart, and if a
heart must needs give agony, why, I shall live through
heartbreak as through pain in any other limb.
DIEGO
Yes,--were your heart a limb like all the rest,--but 'tis the
very centre and fountain of all life.
PRINCESS
You think so? 'Tis, methinks, pushing analogy too far, and
metaphor. This necessary organ, diffusing life throughout us,
and, as physicians say, removing with its vigorous floods all
that has ceased to live, replacing it with new and living
tissue,--this great literal heart cannot be the seat of only
one small passion.
DIEGO
Yet I have known more women than one die of that small
passion's frustrating.
PRINCESS
But you have known also, I reckon, many a man in whom life,
what he had to live for, was stronger than all love. They say
the Duke my cousin's melancholy sickness was due to love which
he had outlived.
DIEGO They say so, Madam.
PRINCESS (_thoughtfully_)
I think it possible, from what I know of him. He was much with
my father when a lad; and I, a child, would listen to their
converse, not understanding its items, but seeming to
understand the general drift. My father often said my cousin
was romantic, favoured overmuch his tender mother, and would
suffer greatly, learning to live for valour and for wisdom.
DIEGO
Think you he has, Madam?
PRINCESS
If 'tis true that occasion has already come.
DIEGO
And--if that occasion came, for the first time or for the
second, perhaps, after your marriage? What would you do,
Madam?
PRINCESS
I cannot tell as yet. Help him, I trust, when help could come,
by the sympathy of a soul's strength and serenity. Stand
aside, most likely, waiting to be wanted. Or else----
DIEGO
Or else, illustrious maiden?
PRINCESS
Or else----I know not----perhaps, growing a heart, get some
use from it.
DIEGO
Your Highness surely does not mean use it to love with?
PRINCESS
Why not? It might be one way of help. And if I saw him
struggling with grief, seeking to live the life and think the
thought fit for his station; why, methinks I could love him.
He seems lovable. Only love could have taught fidelity like
yours.
DIEGO
You forget, gracious Princess, that you attributed great power
of virtue to a habit of conduct, which is like the nature of
high-bred horses, needing no spur. But in truth you are right.
I am no high-bred creature. Quite the contrary. Like curs, I
love; love, and only love. For curs are known to love their
masters.
PRINCESS
Speak not thus, virtuous Diego. I have indeed talked in
magnanimous fashion, and believed, sincerely, that I felt high
resolves. But you have acted, lived, and done magnanimously.
What you have been and are to the Duke is better schooling for
me than all the Lives of Plutarch.
DIEGO.
You could not learn from me, Lady.
PRINCESS
But I would try, Diego.
DIEGO
Be not grasping, Madam. The generous coursers whom your father
taught you to break and harness have their set of virtues.
Those of curs are different. Do not grudge them those. Your
noble horses kick them enough, without even seeing their
presence. But I feel I am beyond my depth, not being
philosophical by nature or schooling. And I had forgotten to
give you part of his Highnesses message. Knowing your love of
music, and the attention you have given it, the Duke imagined
it might divert you, till he was at leisure to pay you homage,
to make trial of my poor powers. Will it please you to order
the other musicians, Madam?
PRINCESS
Nay, good Diego, humour me in this. I have studied music, and
would fain make trial of accompanying your voice. Have you
notes by you?
DIEGO
Here are some, Madam, left for the use of his Highness's band
this evening. Here is the pastoral of Phyllis by Ludovic of
the Lute; a hymn in four parts to the Virgin by Orlandus
Lassus; a madrigal by the Pope's Master, Signor Pierluigi of
Praeneste. Ah! Here is a dramatic scene between Medea and
Creusa, rivals in love, by the Florentine Octavio. Have you
knowledge of it, Madam?
PRINCESS
I have sung it with my master for exercise. But, good Diego,
find a song for yourself.
DIEGO
You shall humour me, now, gracious Lady. Think I am your
master. I desire to hear your voice. And who knows? In this
small matter I may really teach you something.
_The_ PRINCESS _sits to the harpsichord_, DIEGO _standing
beside her on the dais. They sing, the_ PRINCESS _taking the
treble_, DIEGO _the contralto part. The_ PRINCESS _enters
first--with a full-toned voice clear and high, singing very
carefully_. DIEGO _follows, singing in a whisper. His voice is
a little husky, and here and there broken, but ineffably
delicious and penetrating, and, as he sings, becomes, without
quitting the whisper, dominating and disquieting. The_
PRINCESS _plays a wrong chord, and breaks off suddenly._
DIEGO
(_having finished a cadence, rudely_)
What is it, Madam?
PRINCESS
I know not. I have lost my place----I----I feel bewildered.
When your voice rose up against mine, Diego, I lost my head.
And--I do not know how to express it--when our voices met in
that held dissonance, it seemed as if you hurt me----horribly.
DIEGO
(_smiling, with hypocritical apology_)
Forgive me, Madam. I sang too loud, perhaps. We theatre
singers are apt to strain things. I trust some day to hear you
sing alone. You have a lovely voice: more like a boy's than
like a maiden's still.
PRINCESS
And yours----'tis strange that at your age we should reverse
the parts,--yours, though deeper than mine, is like a
woman's.
DIEGO (_laughing_)
I have grown a heart, Madam; 'tis an organ grows quicker where
the breed is mixed and lowly, no nobler limbs retarding its
development by theirs.
PRINCESS
Speak not thus, excellent Diego. Why cause me pain by
disrespectful treatment of a person--your own admirable
self--whom I respect? You have experience, Diego, and shall
teach me many things, for I desire learning.
_The_ Princess _takes his hand in both hers, very kindly and
simply_. Diego, _disengaging his, bows very ceremoniously_.
DIEGO
Shall I teach you to sing as I do, gracious Madam?
PRINCESS (_after a moment_)
I think not, Diego.