The hour is portioned mine.
Of my demand you listen, Holiness.
Of my demand you listen, Holiness.
[He throws his black velvet cloak at the Pope’s feet and lying down props his head against his fathers knees.
Aut Cesar,
Aut Nihil! There is danger
From Fortune in this new campaign. My Captains,
The cursed Condottieri,
Are plotting to betray me. Holy Father,
Between us, you and me, there must be action
Of policy as ductile and as cool
As ever was concerted.
Aut Nihil! There is danger
From Fortune in this new campaign. My Captains,
The cursed Condottieri,
Are plotting to betray me. Holy Father,
Between us, you and me, there must be action
Of policy as ductile and as cool
As ever was concerted.
ALEXANDER.
True! With France
Incessantly adroit I must secure
Continuance of her aid....
Danger and treason?
To you, my mystic Angel, treachery?
You take my heart out....
Mary, Queen of Angels,
Protect our arms, protect my son!
And you—?
Incessantly adroit I must secure
Continuance of her aid....
Danger and treason?
To you, my mystic Angel, treachery?
You take my heart out....
Mary, Queen of Angels,
Protect our arms, protect my son!
And you—?
CESARE.
[Suddenly on his knees, close to his father’s ear.
These mercenaries—Baglioni,
Vitelli, the Orsini, in one grave
Shall sink entrammelled.... Do they know me yet?...
And their injurious arms be drawn of sting,
Their troops unweaponed.
Vitelli, the Orsini, in one grave
Shall sink entrammelled.... Do they know me yet?...
And their injurious arms be drawn of sting,
Their troops unweaponed.
ALEXANDER.
Ah!
CESARE.
ALEXANDER.
And these Romagnole shepherds are my flock;
A spiritual army and a power
To keep you safe.
This combat pleases me;
A conflict in the air—wit against craft!
A spiritual army and a power
To keep you safe.
This combat pleases me;
A conflict in the air—wit against craft!
[Cesare has sunk down again by his father’s knee, his eyes lost in dream. Alexander draws his face backward and gazes at him: Cesare smiles languidly.
CESARE.
I have learnt all the Romans and the Grecians
Have taught of armies, of a prince’s justice.
Both France and Spain will seek my armaments
To join my powers with theirs.
[Raising himself.] In this campaign
Have taught of armies, of a prince’s justice.
Both France and Spain will seek my armaments
To join my powers with theirs.
[Raising himself.] In this campaign
[Still kneeling, he fixes the Pope with his eyes.
You have your own campaign to wage in peace,
Campaign of death. When I shall give you warning,
Seize the Orsini left in Rome, imprison
Lord Giambattista in the Borgia Tower;
His coffers and proprietorships embrace
Armies and succours.
That great pearl is his,
The cardinal, benign, soft pearl.
Campaign of death. When I shall give you warning,
Seize the Orsini left in Rome, imprison
Lord Giambattista in the Borgia Tower;
His coffers and proprietorships embrace
Armies and succours.
That great pearl is his,
The cardinal, benign, soft pearl.
ALEXANDER.
Aurora,
The whiteness of its orb!
The whiteness of its orb!
CESARE.
And he will die.
Aut nihil!
Aut nihil!
ALEXANDER.
[With a slight shudder.] Ah!... Send letters every day.
CESARE.
[Stretching out his hand and taking up a paper lying on the ground.
ALEXANDER.
You have read it,
They told me. ’Tis the libel from Taranto
Sent to Savelli.
Christ, we are a kindred!
Carnage and rapine, perfidy....
They told me. ’Tis the libel from Taranto
Sent to Savelli.
Christ, we are a kindred!
Carnage and rapine, perfidy....
CESARE.
Why mince it?
Assassination, incest!
Assassination, incest!
[Rising from the ground with clenched hands.
ALEXANDER.
But the Latin!
The dulcitude of apophthegm, the style!
What sap in all this rankness. Cesare,
I laughed an hour, applauded with wet eyes—
Literae humaniores—so the salt
Of the strong farce compelled me.
Do you stoop
To anger? Consul Julius Cesar laughed
When choice Catullus spat an epigram,
And dined him that same evening.
The dulcitude of apophthegm, the style!
What sap in all this rankness. Cesare,
I laughed an hour, applauded with wet eyes—
Literae humaniores—so the salt
Of the strong farce compelled me.
Do you stoop
To anger? Consul Julius Cesar laughed
When choice Catullus spat an epigram,
And dined him that same evening.
CESARE.
Ho, but this poisoned insult
Is danger such as that I have to charm
Out of my army into sepulchre.
The scribblers—fah! the mercenary pens—
Shall have their lesson in good manners: silence
Laid on slit tongue and mutilated hand.
Is danger such as that I have to charm
Out of my army into sepulchre.
The scribblers—fah! the mercenary pens—
Shall have their lesson in good manners: silence
Laid on slit tongue and mutilated hand.
ALEXANDER.
You are too young!
CESARE.
Lampoons
Debase our currency.
Debase our currency.
ALEXANDER.
CESARE.
Plague me no more! You shall find all grown still.
Nascitur magnus ordo. ...
But to achieve my work! Italian Vergil,
How much to do, how much!... I must have time,
Have time before me, a wide path,
A silent; I must have my soldiery,
Sons of the sheepfold, of the vineyard: time
And patience and no noise, no sleep, no hastening,
No languor. This new order is my will;
It is beautiful.
Guard deep my plot, my secret.
We breathe combined?
Nascitur magnus ordo. ...
But to achieve my work! Italian Vergil,
How much to do, how much!... I must have time,
Have time before me, a wide path,
A silent; I must have my soldiery,
Sons of the sheepfold, of the vineyard: time
And patience and no noise, no sleep, no hastening,
No languor. This new order is my will;
It is beautiful.
Guard deep my plot, my secret.
We breathe combined?
ALEXANDER.
[Nodding.] Letters?
CESARE.
[Kissing the Pope’s hand.] Each instant
I need your counsel or may do you good,
Sending good news.
I need your counsel or may do you good,
Sending good news.
ALEXANDER.
What of that lad below?
CESARE.
[With an amused laugh.] I shall not take him back to his Faënza. [Exit.
[His voice outside.] Don Michelotto!
[His voice outside.] Don Michelotto!
ALEXANDER.
SCENE V
The Castle of the Este at Ferrara: the Duchess’s bed-chamber. A group of Monks in the background are holding the parchment of Donna Lucrezia Borgia d’Este’s will.
Don Alfonso d’Este is seeking to restrain his father, who is making frantic gestures of despair. In the midst of the chamber Donna Lucrezia is extended on a litter-bed.
Two Doctors are anxiously bending over her with appliances for bleeding. One of them uncovers her foot, looks at the patient, then shakes his head despairingly.
Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna stands a little apart, beside the couch.
CESARE.
I shall visit thee again: for that revive!
Open thy eyes, Lucrece.
... Not dare to bleed her!
Give me the little foot....
No sobs, Alfonso,
For I must have the surety of a smile.
Listen, Lucrece—
Open thy eyes, Lucrece.
... Not dare to bleed her!
Give me the little foot....
No sobs, Alfonso,
For I must have the surety of a smile.
Listen, Lucrece—
[To one of the Doctors, who deprecates speech.
This child is my chief captain,
We must confer. Keep quiet to your work.
We must confer. Keep quiet to your work.
[The Doctors operate.
[To Lucrece.] But if you cannot listen, then remember!
What was my last assault?
What was my last assault?
LUCREZIA.
On Camerino....
Straightway I took a little strength ... the letter—
Straightway I took a little strength ... the letter—
[She makes a movement towards her pillow.
CESARE.
You do not stir!
LUCREZIA.
CESARE.
The need is past—and but for mastery
I keep my hold.
I shall visit thee again;
But ere I can make speed I promise thee
Such tidings—!
I keep my hold.
I shall visit thee again;
But ere I can make speed I promise thee
Such tidings—!
LUCREZIA.
I am dizzy.
CESARE.
No, Lucrece,
You are not dizzy: for I promise you,
If you will pledge me to remain alive,
That I will vanquish all my enemies.
But I must have the oath.
You are not dizzy: for I promise you,
If you will pledge me to remain alive,
That I will vanquish all my enemies.
But I must have the oath.
LUCREZIA.
A prayer—
CESARE.
The oath
LUCREZIA.
I cannot, death is on me.... Oh, I faint....
[The Doctors press round.] A cordial....
[The Doctors press round.] A cordial....
CESARE.
No, a treaty!
[He lays the foot tenderly down and comes up close to Lucrezia’s ear.
All my foes—
You can lay them in the hollow of my hand;
Or, perishing, you can put out the fires....
And all the engines of my brain extinct!
You can lay them in the hollow of my hand;
Or, perishing, you can put out the fires....
And all the engines of my brain extinct!
LUCREZIA.
What plots? What would you do?
CESARE.
[Bending over her.] I would fill all your cup.
stoops down and kisses her. Then, as he raises himself, he turns to Don Alfonso.
The danger is quite passed: let us give thanks.
[He folds Lucrezia’s hands for prayer.
LUCREZIA.
[Raising herself.] The danger is quite passed, and I shall live.
SCENE VI
Sinigaglia: a red sunset over snow. In front the Archway of the Palace; before it Messer Niccolo Macchiavelli meets Don Michelotto da Corella.
MICHELOTTO.
See, Messer Niccolo!
We are even with our enemies. This rope—
New rope ... the enemy
Of Florence, Vitellozzo, and with him
Oliveretto soon will tassel it.
Ha, ha!
The false Condottieri in one net,
Fast as the souls in Hell!
We are even with our enemies. This rope—
New rope ... the enemy
Of Florence, Vitellozzo, and with him
Oliveretto soon will tassel it.
Ha, ha!
The false Condottieri in one net,
Fast as the souls in Hell!
MACCHIAVELLI.
The fairest trap set by the coolest hand!
Madonna’s blood! Stupendous!—
Tell how the prey was trapped, Don Michelotto.
For since the Duke received me at Cesena
I met delay unlooked for. Artfully
These fools, these traitors had been brought to terms,
Bribes and dissensions seeding in their midst,
Till in mock penitence they won this town:
The Duke had quartered all their troops afar,
On pretext of the ground his troops must cover
When he marched in to hold the citadel—
So much was rumoured at Cesena. Thrill me
To the last fibre of my brain: relate!
Madonna’s blood! Stupendous!—
Tell how the prey was trapped, Don Michelotto.
For since the Duke received me at Cesena
I met delay unlooked for. Artfully
These fools, these traitors had been brought to terms,
Bribes and dissensions seeding in their midst,
Till in mock penitence they won this town:
The Duke had quartered all their troops afar,
On pretext of the ground his troops must cover
When he marched in to hold the citadel—
So much was rumoured at Cesena. Thrill me
To the last fibre of my brain: relate!
MICHELOTTO.
The crazy fools, the bankrupts
In fortune and in wit!
Our Duke with gentleness, mansuetude
Landed the waverers.... His smile—
Had you seen it finger this doomed shoal—his welcome,
His kiss ... the lure, a heavy spell
We, his executants, broke off from, anxious:
Such air a dragon sleeps in. Altogether
Riding, they chatted conquests, paused at last
Outside the palace ... but a smile, the tickle
Of expert angler, and a steady gesture—
Solid they were within, their host excused
For change of dress....
Then cries, then execrations!
Changed men, our prisoners, in our power, outwitted,
White to the lids—for, Messer Macchiavelli,
They had shaken us with ruin.
In fortune and in wit!
Our Duke with gentleness, mansuetude
Landed the waverers.... His smile—
Had you seen it finger this doomed shoal—his welcome,
His kiss ... the lure, a heavy spell
We, his executants, broke off from, anxious:
Such air a dragon sleeps in. Altogether
Riding, they chatted conquests, paused at last
Outside the palace ... but a smile, the tickle
Of expert angler, and a steady gesture—
Solid they were within, their host excused
For change of dress....
Then cries, then execrations!
Changed men, our prisoners, in our power, outwitted,
White to the lids—for, Messer Macchiavelli,
They had shaken us with ruin.
MACCHIAVELLI.
True!
Florence—and Rome—believed your master lost!
A captain with no army, with rebellion
The stuff of his command, and France unsure!
He ruled himself as gods do. Of my knowledge,
This lord Duke, divus Borgia, is superb,
Magnificent and in himself a king.
Florence—and Rome—believed your master lost!
A captain with no army, with rebellion
The stuff of his command, and France unsure!
He ruled himself as gods do. Of my knowledge,
This lord Duke, divus Borgia, is superb,
Magnificent and in himself a king.
MICHELOTTO.
Messer Ambassador, if thus you worship,
Let Florence strike alliance with my lord:
Your fruitless praise but brings his brow down, shapes
His lips unkindly when the name of Florence
Or that of Messer Niccolo drifts by.
Let Florence strike alliance with my lord:
Your fruitless praise but brings his brow down, shapes
His lips unkindly when the name of Florence
Or that of Messer Niccolo drifts by.
MACCHIAVELLI.
MICHELOTTO.
Basta!
Always what you will do, and Florence always
A paralytic!
Messer Macchiavelli,
Your face, while I related, took my eyes,
As you had been a fiery gallant, hearing
His love’s deliverance vouched. Will a cold hanging-off
Bring any man to his desire? Satana!
I think your whole of statecraft is the rack;
Your smile puts to the question ... bah, my fingers,
My toes knot under it!
Always what you will do, and Florence always
A paralytic!
Messer Macchiavelli,
Your face, while I related, took my eyes,
As you had been a fiery gallant, hearing
His love’s deliverance vouched. Will a cold hanging-off
Bring any man to his desire? Satana!
I think your whole of statecraft is the rack;
Your smile puts to the question ... bah, my fingers,
My toes knot under it!
MACCHIAVELLI.
Then leave me, friend,
And knot your rope for Vitellozzo fast,
Fast for Oliveretto.
And knot your rope for Vitellozzo fast,
Fast for Oliveretto.
MICHELOTTO.
[Turning toward the archway.] Nay—behold!
Enter through the arch Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna, on his white horse, in silver armour, crimsoned, like the snow, with sundown.
MACCHIAVELLI.
Congratulations, Excellence! Believe me,
You have the brightest face in all the world.
You have the brightest face in all the world.
CESARE.
Come close!
Your Florence, Messer Niccolo, has reason
To love me: all her petty enemies
Are in this hand for swallowing. Have I not
Betokened what I feed on, by my blazon—
A snake that gorges reptiles? Ha, the meal!
Do you remember
The ogres in our nurses’ tales laughed out
Before they gulped?... To-night, to-night a supper
Of creeping tyrants!
Your Florence, Messer Niccolo, has reason
To love me: all her petty enemies
Are in this hand for swallowing. Have I not
Betokened what I feed on, by my blazon—
A snake that gorges reptiles? Ha, the meal!
Do you remember
The ogres in our nurses’ tales laughed out
Before they gulped?... To-night, to-night a supper
Of creeping tyrants!
MACCHIAVELLI.
CESARE.
Hoo! My appetite!
Let Florence eat with me!
[Closing his eyes and laughing.] It was a game,
The catching of these imps!
Truth, Messer Niccolo,
I am a boy again!
Ho-heigh! There will be music,
Romagnole pipes ... I love that rocky hills
And streams should be in music....
Michelotto,
Those rascal French are pillaging—see, there!
Go, hang a dozen, swing them high!
My citizens of Sinigaglia shall not
Be plucked by crows—up with a dozen, high!
Let Florence eat with me!
[Closing his eyes and laughing.] It was a game,
The catching of these imps!
Truth, Messer Niccolo,
I am a boy again!
Ho-heigh! There will be music,
Romagnole pipes ... I love that rocky hills
And streams should be in music....
Michelotto,
Those rascal French are pillaging—see, there!
Go, hang a dozen, swing them high!
My citizens of Sinigaglia shall not
Be plucked by crows—up with a dozen, high!
[Exit Michelotto.
[To Macchiavelli.] Tell Florence she had better be my friend
Than enemy.
Than enemy.
MACCHIAVELLI.
Always....
CESARE.
No words—
Eloquent acts like mine! Ingratitude
It were—no less—now I have made this banquet
If Florence show reluctance any more;
And it would be resented.
We must ride
Round to the fortress: as the sun goes down
A conqueror’s eye must look upon his army
To rule it as by light....
And afterward ... ha, ha!
The ogre’s banquet, the Romagnole pipes!
Heigh, festa, festa! [He rides on.
Eloquent acts like mine! Ingratitude
It were—no less—now I have made this banquet
If Florence show reluctance any more;
And it would be resented.
We must ride
Round to the fortress: as the sun goes down
A conqueror’s eye must look upon his army
To rule it as by light....
And afterward ... ha, ha!
The ogre’s banquet, the Romagnole pipes!
Heigh, festa, festa! [He rides on.
MACCHIAVELLI.
Enchantment take me! What a singular
And terrifying creature! Dragon—yea,
Intelligent and deep; a libbard faithless
As any spotted beast; a Roman Eagle.
He fires me as some sovereign Cleopatra,
Infecting whom she animates.
O my poor Florence,
And I adore your Dread ... ah, but with lust,
Not love, for I could injure him, bring ruin
Upon him, for your sake.... And yet those shoulders
Are high above all princes, Italy!
Those eyes droop over reaches of wide dream;
The hand a vice! Lilies of Florence, day
And night he is my fire; I need no chafing—
Always a fire—not in my heart, good wife,
My scolding Marietta; but in my head;
And all my faculties a throng around it,
With reddened aspect and the cheer of life.
I am bewitched, growing in my enchantment
Magician rather than Ambassador
Of the Signoria: I possess a kingdom;
And, when this Borgia smiles on me, a Prince.
And terrifying creature! Dragon—yea,
Intelligent and deep; a libbard faithless
As any spotted beast; a Roman Eagle.
He fires me as some sovereign Cleopatra,
Infecting whom she animates.
O my poor Florence,
And I adore your Dread ... ah, but with lust,
Not love, for I could injure him, bring ruin
Upon him, for your sake.... And yet those shoulders
Are high above all princes, Italy!
Those eyes droop over reaches of wide dream;
The hand a vice! Lilies of Florence, day
And night he is my fire; I need no chafing—
Always a fire—not in my heart, good wife,
My scolding Marietta; but in my head;
And all my faculties a throng around it,
With reddened aspect and the cheer of life.
I am bewitched, growing in my enchantment
Magician rather than Ambassador
Of the Signoria: I possess a kingdom;
And, when this Borgia smiles on me, a Prince.
[The sun has set and stars come out over the snow.
SCENE VII
A secret cabinet in the Vatican. A snowy day.
The Lord Alexander VI. chafes his hands by a charcoal brazier.
ALEXANDER.
How cold! [Stirring the fuel.
And cold too in the turret. Ice and fire!
And the ice stronger than the fire—the fire
Mere dying ash!
O God, this Cesar!
Ancient of Days, what art Thou
Except Thou hast a Son executant,
And all Thy crafty thoughts are in His heart?
Ancient of Days!
My forces
Are failing, I have lost my grip. This Cesar....
Oh, he is tyrant over me! I feel him
As a great stone my heart gives way beneath:
If he encroaches
There will be nothing in my breast but stone.
And cold too in the turret. Ice and fire!
And the ice stronger than the fire—the fire
Mere dying ash!
O God, this Cesar!
Ancient of Days, what art Thou
Except Thou hast a Son executant,
And all Thy crafty thoughts are in His heart?
Ancient of Days!
My forces
Are failing, I have lost my grip. This Cesar....
Oh, he is tyrant over me! I feel him
As a great stone my heart gives way beneath:
If he encroaches
There will be nothing in my breast but stone.
[Messer Pincione is introduced by Monsignore Burchard, who retires.
Well, Messer Pincione? Is it cold?
Can you not answer when I question you?
Can you not answer when I question you?
PINCIONE.
Eh, Blessèdness.
I bring this from His Excellence the Duke. [Giving a letter.
I bring this from His Excellence the Duke. [Giving a letter.
ALEXANDER.
Warm yourself.... [Reading].... Mortal cold!
But warm yourself.
Say, Messer Pincione, to your master,
Lord Cardinal Orsini languishes
In the strict prison of the Borgia Tower;
And so has languished
Since his vile traitor-nephew was entangled
At Sinigaglia in the wondrous net.
But warm yourself.
Say, Messer Pincione, to your master,
Lord Cardinal Orsini languishes
In the strict prison of the Borgia Tower;
And so has languished
Since his vile traitor-nephew was entangled
At Sinigaglia in the wondrous net.
PINCIONE.
Until he be Death’s treasure, can you pounce,
Holiness, on his treasure? Can you feed
The troops that press the verge of Tuscany?
Holiness, on his treasure? Can you feed
The troops that press the verge of Tuscany?
ALEXANDER.
True, true: our Duke requires his requiem, true!
Ah, Sinigaglia; ah, the wondrous net!
And these Orsini—
A brood of enemies, the murderers
It may be of Giovanni.... Ho! what cold!...
Well, well!
A cruel kindred, a most wicked race,
Our enemies, our enemies, and worthy
Of death’s extinguishing. [Reading again.
The postscript? Show me
This cantarella. [Pincione gives him a phial.
Ha! It is like a sugar
Of pearl; like the rare dust that Cleopatra
Drank of a dis-orbed pearl. Its facture? Tell me
The elements, how braised and how compounded?
Ah, Sinigaglia; ah, the wondrous net!
And these Orsini—
A brood of enemies, the murderers
It may be of Giovanni.... Ho! what cold!...
Well, well!
A cruel kindred, a most wicked race,
Our enemies, our enemies, and worthy
Of death’s extinguishing. [Reading again.
The postscript? Show me
This cantarella. [Pincione gives him a phial.
Ha! It is like a sugar
Of pearl; like the rare dust that Cleopatra
Drank of a dis-orbed pearl. Its facture? Tell me
The elements, how braised and how compounded?
PINCIONE.
Eh, eh—your Blessèdness.
A boar being killed, and arsenic-poison salted
About the entrails thrown to putrefaction,
From thence at last a liquid is withdrawn
In thrice-stilled deadliness.
A boar being killed, and arsenic-poison salted
About the entrails thrown to putrefaction,
From thence at last a liquid is withdrawn
In thrice-stilled deadliness.
ALEXANDER.
The action?
PINCIONE.
Slow,
But sure in death....
But sure in death....
ALEXANDER.
[Calling.] Poto!
He enters.
Monsignore Burchard
Finds the Lord Cardinal Orsini weary,
And struggling with a pain that trusses him,
A wild-fire inflammation?
Finds the Lord Cardinal Orsini weary,
And struggling with a pain that trusses him,
A wild-fire inflammation?
POTO.
Sick,
And troubled with a flux.
And troubled with a flux.
ALEXANDER.
[Sotto voce.] Pain—and its end!
PINCIONE.
Your Blessèdness will give authority
For what must intervene?
For what must intervene?
ALEXANDER.
Good Poto,
Take Messer Pincione to the jailer
Who keeps the Tower. [To Pincione.] To-night, after the play,
“Epidicus”—I cannot miss the play,
Not for the quick or dead, and lenience,
Some lenience we should give to sluggish nature—
To-night I will receive you privately.
Well, Messer Pincione, will you stand
Till doomsday with your little heap
Of cruel pearls?
Take Messer Pincione to the jailer
Who keeps the Tower. [To Pincione.] To-night, after the play,
“Epidicus”—I cannot miss the play,
Not for the quick or dead, and lenience,
Some lenience we should give to sluggish nature—
To-night I will receive you privately.
Well, Messer Pincione, will you stand
Till doomsday with your little heap
Of cruel pearls?
A VOICE.
[Outside.] A gift for Holy Father!
BURCHARD’S VOICE.
No, boy, go back!
The chamber is deep-secret. On the pain
Of death, go back.
The chamber is deep-secret. On the pain
Of death, go back.
ALEXANDER.
A gift!
Gifts are warm faggots on the winter coldness.
A gift! We will receive it.
Poto, hasten!
Take Messer Pincione to the Tower—
From the Duke Cesare. [Exit Poto with Pincione.
’Twere merciful!
Queen Cleopatra drank the like for glory,
As this Orsini for his body’s ease....
The cold! How sudden is my age
Upon me as a drift! By all the devils,
I might be turned to stone!
Gifts are warm faggots on the winter coldness.
A gift! We will receive it.
Poto, hasten!
Take Messer Pincione to the Tower—
From the Duke Cesare. [Exit Poto with Pincione.
’Twere merciful!
Queen Cleopatra drank the like for glory,
As this Orsini for his body’s ease....
The cold! How sudden is my age
Upon me as a drift! By all the devils,
I might be turned to stone!
Enter Monsignore Burchard with a Boy.
Sa, sa! My present! Hither!
Anticipation has a zest.... God’s rattle,
I am astounded—
This lightsome whiteness! The Orsini pearl,
The well-beloved, the whitest light of pearls,
The sun-confronting rainbows, moist and purple!
Boy, did you steal it?
Anticipation has a zest.... God’s rattle,
I am astounded—
This lightsome whiteness! The Orsini pearl,
The well-beloved, the whitest light of pearls,
The sun-confronting rainbows, moist and purple!
Boy, did you steal it?
THE BOY.
No. In his munificence
Lord Cardinal Orsini on his mistress
Bestowed this wonder; at his mother’s prayer
It is presented to you for the boon
That she herself prepare his food. O Father,
She fed him in his helpless infancy;
Now, in his danger and imprisonment,
Create for her afresh the power sweet nature
Endowed her with, at need.
Lord Cardinal Orsini on his mistress
Bestowed this wonder; at his mother’s prayer
It is presented to you for the boon
That she herself prepare his food. O Father,
She fed him in his helpless infancy;
Now, in his danger and imprisonment,
Create for her afresh the power sweet nature
Endowed her with, at need.
ALEXANDER.
[Gazing at the pearl.] Arched, various,
Of shower, of cloud, sun-braving, sun-embroidered,
The breast-drop of a goddess!... All your prayer!
Of shower, of cloud, sun-braving, sun-embroidered,
The breast-drop of a goddess!... All your prayer!
THE BOY.
The order—now?
ALEXANDER.
The order from my hand.
Poto....
Poto....
He re-enters.
Bring pen and parchment.
It wooes—ah, it assails! [Exit Poto.
Abundance of enchantment!
It wooes—ah, it assails! [Exit Poto.
Abundance of enchantment!
Poto re-enters.
The paper—so! An order Prius cibum
Et potum ministrare Cardinali.
This charitable Brief well buys such beauty.
Comfort his mother; bid her
Season his dishes, but take cognizance
We must not set our heart upon our sons.
The motherly, rich heart—deny her? Nay,
But I am warmed to hear of such devotion.
A handsome woman too! Her son is sick,
Remember! Addio!
Et potum ministrare Cardinali.
This charitable Brief well buys such beauty.
Comfort his mother; bid her
Season his dishes, but take cognizance
We must not set our heart upon our sons.
The motherly, rich heart—deny her? Nay,
But I am warmed to hear of such devotion.
A handsome woman too! Her son is sick,
Remember! Addio!
[Monsignore Burchard takes the Boy out.
[Holding up the pearl.] Sweet child, on thy forehead,
My spotless Este, my far evening-star,
This white crest on thy white!
My spotless Este, my far evening-star,
This white crest on thy white!
[He stands absorbed and sad awhile.
Now it comes over me the hand that offered
This pearl, the voice that offered was a woman’s.
Venus! Lord Cardinal Orsini’s mistress!
A pretty piece of faith. Santi—O Venus,
A kind heart that could lay this wonder out
To buy him wholesome feeding.... Yea, a woman!
I would have kissed the boy had I divined—
A woman!... Sancta Virgo Virginum,
Foederis Arca, thou hast saved my soul!
Saved of a pearl, Janna Coeli, saved!
I would not take an aged life: I appeal
To Providence to feed my raven, my
Young, ominous, black raven! He will come
Down on me from his camp: then ... Dio meo!
I would give half my Papacy if never
He might return.... Nay, nay!...
Mater Purissima,
O gracious sun-pearl!
This pearl, the voice that offered was a woman’s.
Venus! Lord Cardinal Orsini’s mistress!
A pretty piece of faith. Santi—O Venus,
A kind heart that could lay this wonder out
To buy him wholesome feeding.... Yea, a woman!
I would have kissed the boy had I divined—
A woman!... Sancta Virgo Virginum,
Foederis Arca, thou hast saved my soul!
Saved of a pearl, Janna Coeli, saved!
I would not take an aged life: I appeal
To Providence to feed my raven, my
Young, ominous, black raven! He will come
Down on me from his camp: then ... Dio meo!
I would give half my Papacy if never
He might return.... Nay, nay!...
Mater Purissima,
O gracious sun-pearl!