_Marina._ Signora--!
_Porzia._ Like a spell of living love.
[_Crosses over, as one in a dream, and enters the bower. Marina goes, the gate opens, and Osio silently enters, coming down into the bower amorously. A long silence ... then slowly the Curtain._
ACT II
A YEAR HAS ELAPSED
SCENE: _A sala, or hall, in the house of Rizzio. Its s.p.a.cious walls and ceiling are frescoed with Virgilian scenes of a simpler and more beautiful kind than was usual to the decaying art of the period, and its high-arched open doors in the rear look out upon the terrace of Act I, toward the city, the Bay, Vesuvius--the whole magic curve of the haunting coast._
_Several antique terminal-statues, the bodies of which end strangely in their pedestals, stand on either side these doors, and about the hall a Venus and other rare objects of virtu recovered from the past are mingled with the furnishings of the room, which, arranged for joy and beauty, seems somehow sad when unoccupied, as now, tho the Neapolitan sun is shining brightly in from the blue._
_An arrased doorway right leads thro a pa.s.sage to the street gate, and one left to the penetralia of the house, from which Marina enters deeply troubled. She looks back, shakes her head, saying, "O my poor lady!" then crosses to door right, listens, and hearing nothing goes slowly to door rear, where she waits, singing sadly_:
Shepherds down the mountain wind, Wild pipes play in the street.
O Sicily, my Sicily, I long for thee, my Sweet!
Once a year G.o.d takes his joy, And that great joy is Spring, He weds earth clad in blossom-robes, For His enrapturing!
[_She stops, listening, then resumes_:
Once a year G.o.d takes his joy, And that--
[_She stops again hearing sounds at the gate, then is startled to paleness by the voice of Matteo; and as she listens a stern strong determination takes her._
_Matteo._ Basta! am I to pa.s.s! son of a dog!
Snout of a swine! knave! door-bestriding fool!
Have I not matters to her from my master, To the Signora, from her husband"s brother?
[_A scuffle._
The Devil"s scullion feed you On flame, until your liver shrivels black!
[_He has pushed past and enters the Hall insolently._
O-he! who"s here! I come from Signor Osio!
[_Sees Marina._
The little Sicilian? Luck then is my slave!
[_Going to her._
Well, pretty fig! my little red pomegranate!
My fair forbidden fruit--pluckt in the moon!
I"ve come ... (_stopped by her mien_) But, Blood of the Holy Sepulchre!
[_Looks around uncertainly._
What thing has happened here?
_Marina._ That, Matteo,
[_Speaks solemnly._
Which yet I do not know, and which I pray Madonna you may be as ignorant of.
_Matteo._ Eh?... I, my beauty?
_Marina._ You--who left this house A year ago to-night with Signor Osio, Left suddenly, To serve his wealth and pleasure, And who will leave it now as instantly, If he is not in need--of absolution.
_Matteo._ Of ... (_starting_) absolution? Body, now, of Bacchus!
Does he not go to the Ma.s.s--and if he does not Am I a priest To know his need of purging?
Or if he sins must I be d.a.m.ned with him?
_Marina._ No, so the way from it--
_Matteo._ The way! the way!
I want no way, but in unto your mistress.
Am I not sent here to her with commands?
Ecco! and must I turn with them upon me, And say a wench denied me?
Or that I feared Perchance to catch the fever Of heresy your master"s shackled with?
Pah, but you jest, my ruby rose of Aetna--
[_Insinuatingly._
Whom yet I will not say but I will wed, Tho you are from that Paynim-breeding isle Of Sicily. You jest: so, in with you.
I seek your lady.
_Marina._ Seek ... and shall find more.
_Matteo._ More! (_Struck by her tone._) And from what and whom?
_Marina._ I wait Aloysius, The leech.
_Matteo._ And that is what I am to fear?
_Marina._ The child is ill.
_Matteo_ (_starting_). The child!
_Marina._ My lady"s child.
[_With tenser solemnity._