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?
d.u.c.h.eSS
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.
d.u.c.h.eSS
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 ma.s.ses much avail To bring the guilty soul from purgatory.
d.u.c.h.eSS
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 G.o.d!
MORANZONE
This is the woman, is it, whom you loved?
CARDINAL
Your Grace is very cruel to this man.
d.u.c.h.eSS
No more than he was cruel to her Grace.
CARDINAL
Yet mercy is the sovereign right of princes.
d.u.c.h.eSS
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 d.u.c.h.eSS 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.
d.u.c.h.eSS
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; G.o.d knows my life Is not so full of joy, yet, for all that, I would not die companionless, or go Lonely to h.e.l.l.
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.
d.u.c.h.eSS
I would, old Cardinal, I could burn that hand; But it will burn hereafter.
CARDINAL
Nay, the Church Ordains us to forgive our enemies.
d.u.c.h.eSS
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 -