_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.