ASCANIO
Must I go hence without a word of love?
GUIDO
You must go hence, and may love go with you.
ASCANIO
You are unknightly, and ungenerous.
GUIDO
Unknightly and ungenerous if you will.
Why should we waste more words about the matter Let us part now.
ASCANIO
Have you no message, Guido?
GUIDO
None; my whole past was but a schoolboy"s dream; To-day my life begins. Farewell.
ASCANIO
Farewell [exit slowly.]
GUIDO
Now are you satisfied? Have you not seen My dearest friend, and my most loved companion, Thrust from me like a common kitchen knave!
Oh, that I did it! Are you not satisfied?
MORANZONE
Ay! I am satisfied. Now I go hence, Do not forget the sign, your father"s dagger, And do the business when I send it to you.
GUIDO
Be sure I shall. [Exit LORD MORANZONE.]
GUIDO
O thou eternal heaven!
If there is aught of nature in my soul, Of gentle pity, or fond kindliness, Wither it up, blast it, bring it to nothing, Or if thou wilt not, then will I myself Cut pity with a sharp knife from my heart And strangle mercy in her sleep at night Lest she speak to me. Vengeance there I have it.
Be thou my comrade and my bedfellow, Sit by my side, ride to the chase with me, When I am weary sing me pretty songs, When I am light o" heart, make jest with me, And when I dream, whisper into my ear The dreadful secret of a father"s murder - Did I say murder? [Draws his dagger.]
Listen, thou terrible G.o.d!
Thou G.o.d that punishest all broken oaths, And bid some angel write this oath in fire, That from this hour, till my dear father"s murder In blood I have revenged, I do forswear The n.o.ble ties of honourable friendship, The n.o.ble joys of dear companionship, Affection"s bonds, and loyal grat.i.tude, Ay, more, from this same hour I do forswear All love of women, and the barren thing Which men call beauty - [The organ peals in the Cathedral, and under a canopy of cloth of silver tissue, borne by four pages in scarlet, the d.u.c.h.eSS OF PADUA comes down the steps; as she pa.s.ses across their eyes meet for a moment, and as she leaves the stage she looks back at GUIDO, and the dagger falls from his hand.]
Oh! who is that?
A CITIZEN
The d.u.c.h.ess of Padua!
END OF ACT I.
ACT II
SCENE
A state room in the Ducal Palace, hung with tapestries representing the Masque of Venus; a large door in the centre opens into a corridor of red marble, through which one can see a view of Padua; a large canopy is set (R.C.) with three thrones, one a little lower than the others; the ceiling is made of long gilded beams; furniture of the period, chairs covered with gilt leather, and buffets set with gold and silver plate, and chests painted with mythological scenes. A number of the courtiers is out on the corridor looking from it down into the street below; from the street comes the roar of a mob and cries of "Death to the Duke": after a little interval enter the Duke very calmly; he is leaning on the arm of Guido Ferranti; with him enters also the Lord Cardinal; the mob still shouting.
DUKE
No, my Lord Cardinal, I weary of her!
Why, she is worse than ugly, she is good.
MAFFIO
[excitedly]
Your Grace, there are two thousand people there Who every moment grow more clamorous.
DUKE
Tut, man, they waste their strength upon their lungs!
People who shout so loud, my lords, do nothing; The only men I fear are silent men.
[A yell from the people.]
You see, Lord Cardinal, how my people love me.
[Another yell.] Go, Petrucci, And tell the captain of the guard below To clear the square. Do you not hear me, sir?
Do what I bid you.
[Exit PETRUCCI.]
CARDINAL
I beseech your Grace To listen to their grievances.
DUKE
[sitting on his throne]
Ay! the peaches Are not so big this year as they were last.
I crave your pardon, my lord Cardinal, I thought you spake of peaches.
[A cheer from the people.]
What is that?