[Vanozza, holding Lucrezia’s hand, is conducted to the Pope. She falls at his feet: he raises her.
Poor heart!
VANOZZA.
Forgive me.
ALEXANDER.
We mourn together. Where we had a son
For eyes’ delight, there is nothing.
[Soothing and patting Vanozza.] Hush, you must not!
Little beloved, you suckled him. You must not!
Go home; pray to Madonna.—She will hear.
And let me see your face.
[Drawing her veil.] It is the same;
As honest and as good.
[He holds her face in his hands.
VANOZZA.
I am so richly blessed ... and this dear boy,
A Prince from Spain, came back again and kissed me.
ALEXANDER.
To kiss this face in filial piety.
There, there, you must forget him!
[Gaspare Poto approaches.
You pull my skirts.
POTO.
ALEXANDER.
[Steadying himself against Vanozza.
[He moans.
POTO.
[Poto supports the Pope to where the waterman Giorgio stands with an Inquisitor at the further end of the room.
LUCREZIA.
[Suddenly coming to Vanozza.
VANOZZA.
[Watching the Pope.
And you a Princess, too! O my Giovanni!
You, all of you, are but as visitants;
You are enskied afar. Happy, unhappy mother!
Child! O sweet, floating hair against my cheek,
And your cold cheek....
LUCREZIA.
VANOZZA.
They plagued each other like two golden lances
Crossed in the sunshine at a tournament—
And so till Cesare had warned the hour.
LUCREZIA.
VANOZZA.
To any but my lost, my lost Giovanni,
My all but God—and to my God? Lucrece
Turns with her mother to His Throne of Mercy?
O Child! [Her cry echoes one from the Pope.
ALEXANDER.
The horror swallows me. Hush, hush!
Laid over
The white horse!...
Go with the girl away. You shall have tidings.
His mother—go!
My blessing, child. I have no more to say.
ADRIANA.
ALEXANDER.
Turris Davidica, Refugium
Peccatorum, Virgo clemens!—
He tells you further? Nay,
You will not broach the facts? He saw these men
Creep back and other two come stealing downward,
And the white horse—and what it bore.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
GIORGIO.
All as it happened.
ALEXANDER.
GIORGIO.
They turned the horse and swung the body down
In heavy mire and litter. I could see
A bulrush sucked at by the risen billow,
And how a winding object swam along,
Lapped by the current—’twas the dead man’s cloak.
They pelted it with stones: then....
ALEXANDER.
Cousin—O Francesco,
And I have wit to ask where this was seen.
POTO.
ALEXANDER.
Those foolish, flitting lights that drive me mad.
GIORGIO.
From my beached boat
What I have seen I saw—none cared to hear.
ALEXANDER.
My worship!—leaving me
As one who is no more. My life’s high hope
Snatched under darkness, sodden,
A dead boy, who was proud and beautiful.
Francesco, in a single night! O Cousin,
I thought that he was comforting his youth
In a kind Thaïs’ arms and he was down
At the bottom of that river!
CARDINAL BORGIA.
Has not this Giorgio seen a hundred times....
ALEXANDER.
CARDINAL BORGIA.
ALEXANDER.
Beyond the walls, at some castello wooing
Maiden or wife, since summer bans the chase;
A foolish pastime ’mid infested country!
But now the vineyards are as silken tents
For Amor’s camp. I am too precipitous
In passion: I must wait another night,
And then ... fold him again
Upon my heart! Go back, go back, my heart!
Patience! [He finds himself at the window.
But see, there, see
The lights are sailing to one point. Out yonder
What is that spot of dusk?
POTO.
ALEXANDER.
Enter Monsignore Burchard.
BURCHARD.
The illustrious Duke of Gandia has been found
In velvet coat and cloak, the dagger sheathed,
His ducats in his purse.
ALEXANDER.
On to Sant’ Angelo. The torches....
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
BURCHARD.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
BURCHARD.
One mortal in the throat. His hands were tied.
ALEXANDER.
BURCHARD.
CARDINAL BORGIA.
His father must not see him.
BURCHARD.
ALEXANDER.
SCENE IV
A room in the Lord Cardinal Cesare Borgia’s Palace of Borgo Sant’ Angelo.
It is dead midnight: lights are burning. Lord Cardinal Cesare, in the black satin dress of a Spanish gentleman, with jewelled poignard, reclines on a couch. He appears to be sleeping, except that now and again he slowly rolls from hand to hand a gold ball of perfumes. His Spanish page Juanito Grasica is asleep. Behind the couch, across a table, the great ceremonial sword lies naked, and near it is a new purchase, the sleeping Cupid with broken foot of Messer Buonarotti.
Donna Lucrezia Borgia enters with Donna Adriana Orsini, whose hand she clasps: she looses it, and, after a moment’s pause, comes to her brother.
LUCREZIA.
She stays without: I go back to the convent.
Cesare—tell me all that I should pray.
CESARE.
That I be Cesar.
LUCREZIA.
CESARE.
To-night you look a sibyl.
Who did this deed?
LUCREZIA.
You must have music through these restless nights.
How lost you look!
CESARE.
LUCREZIA.
Come, Adriana, soft! As an astronomer
He must not be disturbed: he is quite lost.
SCENE V
The Pope’s Bedroom in the Borgia Apartments at the Vatican.
The Lord Alexander VI. is extended asleep on the bed.
The Lord Cardinal Bartolomeo of Segovia and Monsignore Gaspare Poto.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
I knelt against his door! The raving wildness
I heard at times—inhospitable sorrow,
Aloof from our Creator! Then, dashed down,
The heavy frame wept like a haunted child’s.
Then silence
Too perilous to spread! I beat the door.
POTO.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
As a dead fish; slack chin, and Arab eyes
Glassy in fever, with a vengeful thirst.
If only he had known the murderer,
And could have struck him down to deepest hell—
POTO.
He snatches ends of this dark mystery,
As he unravelled at the dead of night
The broidery on a frame he could but feel.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
Some whisper ’twas the Lord of Pesaro
Revenged himself for ridicule and the shame
Of his divorce.
POTO.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
The Lord Ascanio Sforza did the deed,
For he and Gandia quarrelled the same day
That our fine Duke was struck.
POTO.
Of secrecy—this murder.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
POTO.
My Lord Segovia.
ALEXANDER.
CARDINAL SEGOVIA.
And send the Lord Francesco Borgia up
To urge his cousin’s appetite.
Behold!
beatific smile on his face.
ALEXANDER.
POTO.
ALEXANDER.
There was no scar on him, not the least wound;
That is the truth: and he stood armed again.
As bright as San Michele he looked down
Upon us from the wall, his gonfalon
Swathing around him as he stood. His face
Was to me as an angel’s.
[He weeps quietly.] I repent,
I will change all to meet that boy again
In Paradise, no wound on him, no scar.
And yet the sight of him,
O Poto, drove down to the rasping quick
Of conscience through my heart. All shall be changed,
The Vatican be cleared of sin. These bastards ...
Let me not see them more! Joffré, Lucrezia—
Joffré must mind his government afar,
I banish him. Lucrece—oh, I shall gather
The seas between us; she shall dwell in Spain,
Dwell in Valencia, deep, where I was born,
White little demon-girl!
[He rises, trembling, and Poto robes him.] No priest henceforward
Shall hold two benefices; simony
No more shall breed among us. God would punish
Some sin in us; it could not be Giovanni
Deserved a death so cruel. Gently, Poto,
You are too violent.
POTO.
You slit the silk.
ALEXANDER.
I called my son? Unnatural, where are they?
The children I have fostered in my bosom,
Where are they?
POTO.
Donna Lucrezia in the Sistine Convent
Prays day and night.
ALEXANDER.
POTO.
ALEXANDER.
POTO.
Men fled as from a pest. Lord Cesare
Is shut within his palace; duteously,
Almost from hour to hour, his servants pass
For tidings of your health.
An Usher appears at the door.
USHER.
Of Rome prays for the Presence.
ALEXANDER.
Oh, it will break my heart! I would lie down
Within my coffin—and that tapestry
About the portal, with its shaking folds,
Opens and shuts the lid. Let him come in.
GOVERNOR.
Of the Lord Duke to certify—his mule
Was found hard by the Palace Barbarini.
ALEXANDER.
Looks into Tiber like the moon!
I thank you
For your devotion.
GOVERNOR.
ALEXANDER.
He dies within my thoughts a several death
Each time I front the dark where he is lost.
God damn him deeper every day! Search, search!
The Palace, bribe the women. If a stab
From jealousy—we stop the inquisition.
Mea culpa, mea culpa!
Enter the Lord Francesco Borgia.
What do you bear so carefully—the Host?
CARDINAL BORGIA.
ALEXANDER.
Gaspare, bear it from the room. Go all
Away from me!
CARDINAL BORGIA.
If I may trust the murmur in my ears
From men to whose free speech
I gave safe conduct, it is not for you
To make avowal. Heaven requires of you
Such greatness and capacity of pardon
As in extent it touched the limits of,
Setting its brand of safety upon Cain.
ALEXANDER.
CARDINAL BORGIA.
Belovèd, exercise the privilege
Of God’s vicegerent. Wash away this guilt,
Remove it from you; pardon secretly.
ALEXANDER.
A heavy stone upon Giovanni’s grave
To keep me from him. But it is not true,
It cannot be! We Borgia do no harm
To any of our kin.
CARDINAL BORGIA.
Drive the suspicion, and forgive the crime.
ALEXANDER.
Thoughtless to Cesare.... He has been absent
Too often from our ceremonials,
From our investitures. I drove him jealous
By welcome of his brother out of Spain.
I did him wrong.
Good kinsman, you have taught me
To dry my tears ... and I have still a son.
Fetch me again the little dish of food,
The wine.... I am grown faint.
See that this bruit
Come never to his mother. He is all
To her as if he were her eldest born.
God knows my love to him is infinite!
But—bid him keep his palace. I forbid
His presence here.... My sins have plunged my children
In death and hell, and I must live alone.
SCENE VI
The Vatican; Sala dei Pontifici.
The Lord Alexander VI. is enthroned. The Lord Cardinal Cesare Borgia stands before him, defiant.
ALEXANDER.
CESARE.
It is your will
The Lord Ascanio Sforza be your legate
In this affair of Naples.
ALEXANDER.
CESARE.
Under suspicion of Giovanni’s death.
You send a blood-stained envoy on this business,
And thrust me from my place. You have yourself
To thank for your Giovanni’s death; the honours
You heaped on him have brought him to his doom.
Will you bring more
And greater desolation on your years?
ALEXANDER.
CESARE.
As for my brother’s death, that is but Fortune—
The spokes of her wheel turned bright on me. I was
Your second son, enslaved to your vocation;
Profane, I touched your sacred things and trembled
You dared to put me to such use: in secret
I wrought my sword, my legend. I am Cesar,
And he is all my omen. By a fate
So marvellous it rocks my very dreams
I wake, I rouse myself
To majesty you put on me, or let it
Drop downward to the void.
With me, you let Giovanni take my place
Beside you and your throne. None noted me
Level among the scarlet hats, except
This goddess with a rudder, this fair child
Of Jove, this liberator. I am silent,
Except before confusion such as yours.
I watched you from Spoleto setting gins,
I watched you bribe on bribe....
ALEXANDER.
And I must answer for my wickedness.
I owe my seat to wickedness.
CESARE.
There should be pact between us. How your coffers
Are filled I know, and where your heart is lavish,
And what you dream. I kneel before your throne
With faculty
As boundless as a god’s, with strength as supple,
To be your instrument, to win you lands,
To give you rule. You have forbidden me
Your presence: if I pass from it forbidden,
I leave you—up and down to wave your hands
In blessing on the powers you supplicate.
While, if you bid me to your side, I build
An army for the Church; there will be legions....