_Courtiers_. God save you, madam!
_[They go out, leaving the Regent alone._]
_Regent (she loosens the clasp of her robe)._ Some thoughts
--some thoughts--
Fall from me, envious robe!
Rest there, my crown--thou more than leaden ache!
Ah!--
God! What a mountain drops! I float--I am lifted
Like thistledown on nothing. Back, my crown--
Weight me to earth! Nay, nay, thy rim shall bite
No more upon this forehead ... Where's my glass?
O mirror, mirror, hath it bit so deep?
My love is coming, hark! O, say not grey,
Sweet mirror! Tell, what time to cure it now?
And he so near, so near!
How shall I meet him?
Why how but as the river leaps to sea,
Steel to its magnet, child to mother's arms?
[_She catches up flowers from the baskets left by the
courtiers, and decks herself mildly._
Flowers for my hair, flowers at the breast! Sweet flowers,
He'll crush you 'gainst his corslet. He has arms
Like bands of iron for clasping, has my love.
He'll hurt, he'll hurt ... But oh, sweet flowers, to lie
And feel you helpless while he grips and bruises
Your weak protesting breasts! You'll die in bliss,
Panting your fragrance out.--
Wh'st! Hush, poor fool!
I have unlearned love's very alphabet.
Men like us coy, demure ... Then I'll coquet
And play Madam Disdain--but not to-day.
To-morrow I'll be shrewish, shy, perverse,
Exacting, cold--all April in my moods:
We'll walk the forest, and I'll slip from him,
Hide me like Dryad 'mid the oaks, and mark
His hot dark face pursuing; or I'll couch
In covert green, and hold my breath to hear
His blundering foot go by; then up I'll leap,
And run--and he'll run after. O this lightness!
I'll draw him like a fairy, dance and double--
Yet not so fast but he shall overtake
At length, and catch me panting. O, I charge you,
I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem,
Wake not my love beneath the forest bough
Where we lie dreaming!
_[Fanfare of trumpets in the distance.]_
Trumpets, hark! and drums!
They have landed! From the quay they march!
Flowers! flowers!
They are near ... I see him!... Carlo! lord and love!
He looks--waves--O 'tis he! O foolish heart!--
I had feared he'd ta'en a wound.
What is't they shout?
Eh? 'Victory!'--yes, yes. He's browner, thinner;
And the dear eyes, how gaunt!... Yes
'Victory!'
'Victory!' ... lord, and love!,..
_[The shouts of acclamation are heard now close
under the terrace. Spears and banners are
seen trooping past. Beside herself, she throws
flowers to them, laughing, weeping the while.
Then, running to the Chapel door, she
prostrates herself before the image of the
Virgin that crowns its archway.]_
O Mary, Mother!
Thou, in whose breast all women's thoughts have moved,
All woman's passions heaved. Lo! I adore!
Sweet Mother, hold my hands, rejoice with me:
My bridegroom cometh!
[_During this invocation the Countess Fulvia has
crept in, a stiletto in her hand. She leans
over the Regent and stabs her twice in the
breast.]_
_Fulvia._ Then with that!--and that!
Go meet him!
_Regent_ (_turns, looks up, and falls on her face_).
Oh! I am slain!
_Fulvia._ And I am worse!
But there's my flower, my red flower, on your breast.--
Go, meet your lord and show it!
[_She passes down the steps as Lucetta runs in.]_
_Lucetta._ Madam! Madam!
The Duke is at the gate--Madam!--
Christ! she is murdered! Murder! Murder!
_Regent._ Fie,
Lucetta! peace! What word to greet the Duke
For his home-coming! Lift me ... Quick, my robe--
My Crown! Call no one. O, but hasten!
_Lucetta_ (_helpless, wringing her hands_). Madam!
_Regent._ I need your strength, and must I steady you?
Lucetta, years ago you disarrayed me
Upon my bridal night. I would you'd whisper
The rogueries your tongue invented then.
I have few moments, girl ... I'd have them wanton.
Make jest this mantle hides the maid I was.
I'll have no priest, no doctor--Fetch Tonino!
I must present his son--
[_Lucetta runs out._
All's acted quick:
Bride-bed, conception, birth--and death! But he
Shall sum it in one moment death not takes ...
What noise of trumpets!... Is the wound not covered?
[_She wraps herself carefully in her mantle as the
courtiers pour in. The child Tonino runs to
her and stands by her side. Lucio, Cesario,
all the Court, group themselves round her as
the Duke enters. He rushes in eagerly; but
she sets her teeth on her anguish, and receives
him with a low reverence._
Welcome my lord!
_Duke._ Ottilia!
_Regent._ Good my lord,
Welcome! This day is bright restores you to
Your loyal Duchy.
Duke (_impatient_). Wife! Ottilia!
_Regent_ (_she lifts a hand to keep him at distance_).
There must be forms, my lord--some forms! Cesario,
Render the Duke his sceptre. As bar to socket,
When the gate closes on a town secure,
So locks this rod back to his manly clutch--
Cry all, 'Long live the Duke!'
_All._ Long live the Duke!
_Duke._ Wife, make an end with forms!
_Lucio_ (_to Cesario_). And so say I!
A man would think my sister had no blood
In her body.
_Cesario_ (_watching the Regent_). Peace, man: something
there's amiss.
_Regent._ Yet here is he that sceptre shall inherit.
Lucetta, lead his first-born to the Duke.
His first-born!--Nay but look on him how straight
Of limb, how set and shoulder-square, tho' slender!
He'll sit a horse, in time, and toss a lance
Even with his father.
_Duke._ There's my blessing, boy!
But stand aside. Look in my face, Ottilia--
Hearken me, all! One thing these seven years
My life hath lacked, which wanting, all your cannon,
Your banners, _vivas_, bells that rock the roofs,
Throng'd windows, craning faces--all--all--all
Were phantasms, were noise.--
_Lucio_ (_exclaims_). Why look, here's blood!
Here, on the boy's hand!
_Regent._ Ay! a scratch, no worse,
Here, when I pinned my robe.
_Duke_ (_continuing_). Nay, friends, this moment
My Duchy her dear hand restores to me
To me's a dream. More buoyant would I tread
Dumb street, deserted square, climb ruin'd wall,
Where in a heap beneath a broken flag
Lay Adria.--
So that amid the ruins stood my love
And stretched her hands so faintly--stretched her hands
So faintly. See! She's mine! She lifts them--
_Regent_ (_totters and falls into his arms with a tired, happy
laugh, which ends in a cry as his arms enfold her_). Ah!
[_She faints._
_Duke_. (_after a moment, releasing her a little_). What's
here? Ottilia!
_Lucetta._ My mistress swoons!
_A Courtier._ 'Tis happiness--
_Duke._ Fetch water!
_Lucio._ Nay this blood--
Came of no scratch!
_Lucetta._ Loosen her bodice--
_Duke._ Blood?
Why blood? Where's blood?
(_Stares as the mantle is imclasped and falls open_).
Ah, my God!
_Lucetta._ Murder! murder!
The Countess Fulvia--
_Cesario._ Speak!
_Lucetta._ There--while she knelt--
Stabbed her, and fled.
_Cesario._ Which way?
[_Lucetta points to the stairs. He dashes off in
pursuit._
_Duke._ All-seeing God!
Where were thine eyes, or else thy justice? Dead?
O, never dead!
_Lucio._ Ay, Duke, push God aside,
As I push thee. I have the better right:
I killed her--I. O never pass, sweet soul,
Till thou hast drunk a shudder of this wretch,
Thy brother, playmate, murderer!
_Duke._ Wine! bring wine--
_Regent_ (_as the wine is brought and revives her_).
Flower, he will crush thee--but the bliss, the bliss!
I swim in bliss. What ... Lucio? Where's my lord?
Dear, bring him: he was here awhile and held me.
Say he must hold, or the light air will lift
And bear me quite away.
[_Re-enter Cesario. In one hand he carries his
sword, in the other a dagger._
_Lucio._ Cesario!
What! Is that devil escaped? To think--to think
I drank her kisses!--What? Where is she?
_Cesario._ Dead.
I raised the cry: the people pointed after;
Ran with me, ravening. Just this side the bridge
She heard our howl and turned--drew back the dagger
Red with our lady's blood, then drove it home
Clean to her own black heart.
_Regent._ God pardon her!
I would what blood of mine clung to the blade
Might mix with hers and sweeten it for mercy.
_Lucio._ Will you forgive her? Then forgive not me!
_Regent._ Dear Lucio!--You'll not pluck away your hand
This time? Hush! Where's Cesario?... Friend, farewell.
Where lies the body?
_Cesario._ Sooth, madonna, I flung it
To the river's will, to roll it down to sea
Or cast on muddy bar, for dogs to gnaw.
_Regent._ The river? Ah! How strong the river rolls!
Hold me, my lord--
_Duke._ Love, love, I hold you
_Regent._--Ay!
The child, too--You will hold the child?...
This roar
Deafens but will not drown us.
[_Within the Chapel the choir is chanting a dirge.
Gamba goes and closes the door on the sound:
then creeps to the foot of the couch. The
dying woman gently motions aside the cross
a priest is holding to her, and looks up at her
husband._
[_Below the terrace a voice is heard singing the
Rondinello song._
Look! beyond
Be waters where no galley moves with oar,
So wide, so waveless,--and, between the woods,
Meadows--O land me there!... Hark, my lord's voice
Singing in Vallescura! Soft my, love,
I am so tired--so tired! Love, let me play!
[_Dies._
[_The Courtiers lift the body in silence and bear it
to the Chapel, the Duke and his train following.
The doors close on them. On the stage are
left only Cesario, standing by the balustrade;
and Gamba, who has seated himself with his
viol and touches it, as still the voice sings
below--_
Addio, Addio! ed un'altra volt'addio!
La lundananza tua, 'l desiderio mio!
[_On the last note a string of the viol cracks, and with
a cry the Fool flings himself, heart-broken, on
the empty couch. Cesario steps forward and
stands over him, touching his shoulder gently._