Be comforted, O Blessèdness!
[To Cesare.] Farewell, farewell,
Lord Cardinal; excel, as in our ranks you cannot.
Though often bitter to us in your mood,
Our skies will miss the lightning and the light
Without you, and our skies are colourless.
[To Cesare.] Farewell, farewell,
Lord Cardinal; excel, as in our ranks you cannot.
Though often bitter to us in your mood,
Our skies will miss the lightning and the light
Without you, and our skies are colourless.
FRENCH AMBASSADOR.
The Duke of Valentinois—so my king
Greets you with patents disembarked to-day.
Greets you with patents disembarked to-day.
[The Cardinals and Ambassadors press round Cesare to congratulate; he smiles and bows. Then they break into groups and disperse.
CESARE.
[Between his teeth.] Our obstacles
No more in our condition! Solitary!
No longer of a flock!
No more in our condition! Solitary!
No longer of a flock!
[He turns towards the Pope, who, unnoticed, has remained sitting on his throne, his hands stretched on his knees. Cesare steals quietly to his father.
I shall not leave you,
Not ever, not like Joffré, for a wife.
You shall not sit there looking lone—beside you,
Father, a power we have not measured yet,
That we shall measure. After all my wars,
And all my wars will be to draw you peace,
I shall return.
Kiss me.
Not ever, not like Joffré, for a wife.
You shall not sit there looking lone—beside you,
Father, a power we have not measured yet,
That we shall measure. After all my wars,
And all my wars will be to draw you peace,
I shall return.
Kiss me.
ALEXANDER.
My heart,
No blessing—oh, a kiss!
No blessing—oh, a kiss!
SCENE III
A room in the Palace of Santa Maria in Porticu belonging to Donna Lucrezia Borgia d’Aragon. Donna Lucrezia sits at the head of a couch; Duke Cesare de Valentinois lies along it. They are both dressed in white satin, embroidered with gold and pearls.
LUCREZIA.
You have seen the little mother?
CESARE.
To what end?
My mother?—No, Lucrezia.
My mother?—No, Lucrezia.
LUCREZIA.
CESARE.
What of our mother
In my alliance? Dead forgetfulness!
O Beauty, we are passing on our ways
Of policy; we must pass eagle-eyed,
For we have thrones to conquer.
Curse your Naples!
I would be wedded there.
In my alliance? Dead forgetfulness!
O Beauty, we are passing on our ways
Of policy; we must pass eagle-eyed,
For we have thrones to conquer.
Curse your Naples!
I would be wedded there.
LUCREZIA.
[Stroking his eye-brows.] There I am wedded;
Therefore no curse.
Therefore no curse.
CESARE.
[Suddenly turning and resting his elbow on her knee.
Lucrece, do you like this boy
We call your husband? Will he move your love;
Will you forget your godhead?
We call your husband? Will he move your love;
Will you forget your godhead?
LUCREZIA.
Do not forget that you yourself have chosen
My husband for me.
My husband for me.
CESARE.
’Tis but for a season.
We keep the paces of the gods, and all
Our actions are as theirs irrelevant
Beside ourselves, as we conceive ourselves.
Lucrezia, do but feel how thick my hair
Is brushing up beside the little tonsure!
There springs the Cesar. You have seen me amble
Beside Giovanni’s stallion on my mule....
And I am tempered through and through for war.
While others all day long were waging battle,
I have gone out to chase—oh, think of it!—
That I might follow some mean animal,
And catch the sound of Mars across the lake.
... Your fingers press me ...
Why is their touch less soft?
We keep the paces of the gods, and all
Our actions are as theirs irrelevant
Beside ourselves, as we conceive ourselves.
Lucrezia, do but feel how thick my hair
Is brushing up beside the little tonsure!
There springs the Cesar. You have seen me amble
Beside Giovanni’s stallion on my mule....
And I am tempered through and through for war.
While others all day long were waging battle,
I have gone out to chase—oh, think of it!—
That I might follow some mean animal,
And catch the sound of Mars across the lake.
... Your fingers press me ...
Why is their touch less soft?
LUCREZIA.
CESARE.
Giovanni....
LUCREZIA.
Yes? [She waits but he says nothing.
Poor Giovanni! We have enemies.
Poor Giovanni! We have enemies.
CESARE.
We have. I silence yours. Are you all tears?
LUCREZIA.
You start for France—
Give me some charge. We part so suddenly....
His Holiness....
Give me some charge. We part so suddenly....
His Holiness....
CESARE.
Be gamesome to our father
While I am absent, for he has a trick
Of dwindling down as Tiber on his bed,
Parched Tiber on his bed, when I withdraw.
We are his twin divinities, his Pollux,—
Since Castor is by chance thrust out—his Pollux,
And his most gracious Helen.... The rare smile,
The cypher smile! Your spells are on again.
Our father loves the dance—dance to fatigue.
While I am absent, for he has a trick
Of dwindling down as Tiber on his bed,
Parched Tiber on his bed, when I withdraw.
We are his twin divinities, his Pollux,—
Since Castor is by chance thrust out—his Pollux,
And his most gracious Helen.... The rare smile,
The cypher smile! Your spells are on again.
Our father loves the dance—dance to fatigue.
LUCREZIA.
Pas seul; I cannot!
CESARE.
Then....
[Springing up, he lightly takes her hand, and, looking into each other’s eyes, they dance a slow measure.
LUCREZIA.
[Laughing.] Oh, I will dance to giddiness, and yet
So slow it is the dance within a jewel,
And infinite movement in a prisoned spark—
The poets say. I heed them not.
So slow it is the dance within a jewel,
And infinite movement in a prisoned spark—
The poets say. I heed them not.
CESARE.
How wisely!
LUCREZIA.
To you I dance.
CESARE.
Oh, when you speak
From the bosom of your silence.... Little, fair One,
But you are dull; I want you
To feel how great are the fresh lusts that haunt me,
And with complaisance take their part and smile.
From the bosom of your silence.... Little, fair One,
But you are dull; I want you
To feel how great are the fresh lusts that haunt me,
And with complaisance take their part and smile.
[Lifting her hand to his breast and keeping it there.
Once and for ever—and you falter now!
LUCREZIA.
[Closing her eyes.] You are no more a priest....
CESARE.
O little, fair One,
That deadly languor
Of being a priest, cut off! You draw a cry,
An anguish from me. When I am a king
You are my counterpart, for evermore
A place beside me vacant, or your throne.
When I am Emperor, still I have chosen you
My counterpart. We played, a little flock,
Luis, Giovanni, Joffré—you and I
Were sole to one another.
That deadly languor
Of being a priest, cut off! You draw a cry,
An anguish from me. When I am a king
You are my counterpart, for evermore
A place beside me vacant, or your throne.
When I am Emperor, still I have chosen you
My counterpart. We played, a little flock,
Luis, Giovanni, Joffré—you and I
Were sole to one another.
LUCREZIA.
[Standing apart.] We are sole.
CESARE.
Come, little Venus,
Come with me, see the cramoisie, the jewels
For Cesar’s wedding triumph, for the Duke
Of Valentinois’ progress. All my trappings
Are gold—d’or frizé: thirty thousand ducats
Lie in the damasks of my equipage.
I will put on my doublets—and you too
Shall try them on.
Come with me, see the cramoisie, the jewels
For Cesar’s wedding triumph, for the Duke
Of Valentinois’ progress. All my trappings
Are gold—d’or frizé: thirty thousand ducats
Lie in the damasks of my equipage.
I will put on my doublets—and you too
Shall try them on.
LUCREZIA.
Fie, fie! [She hastily takes a veil and mask.
CESARE.
[Leading her to the door.] What readiness!—
Answering, as a woman should, with answer
So even to my pleasure. [A knock.
Ah, is that your husband?
Who is it knocks? [He moves away and masks.
Answering, as a woman should, with answer
So even to my pleasure. [A knock.
Ah, is that your husband?
Who is it knocks? [He moves away and masks.
LUCREZIA.
But enter!
[The Lord Alexander VI. stands at the door.
CESARE.
[With a short laugh, unmasking.] Oh, my father!
LUCREZIA.
But enter, enter, Holiness.
ALEXANDER.
[To Cesare, as he embraces Lucrezia.] My heart,
Where do you draw the sweetheart? Cesare,
Stay—let her breathe the morning to me. Where
Would Cesare conduct you?
Where do you draw the sweetheart? Cesare,
Stay—let her breathe the morning to me. Where
Would Cesare conduct you?
LUCREZIA.
ALEXANDER.
His! He will look a Phœbus
That rose and clomb in gold. But for my daughter—
Her eyes shall rest on veils enmeshed of light,
Darting their gems of parti-coloured flash
On stuffs dark-grained enough to set them free,
Or of a tissue white to blandish them.
You need not view his gauds, Lucrece.
It is immoment
For her to learn your worldly splendour, boy,
She, who is treasure.
Sweet, yet we will chuckle
At all the benefices in his stars
Of gems, his satins. Lead on, Cesare;
For we will go together, laugh together.
That rose and clomb in gold. But for my daughter—
Her eyes shall rest on veils enmeshed of light,
Darting their gems of parti-coloured flash
On stuffs dark-grained enough to set them free,
Or of a tissue white to blandish them.
You need not view his gauds, Lucrece.
It is immoment
For her to learn your worldly splendour, boy,
She, who is treasure.
Sweet, yet we will chuckle
At all the benefices in his stars
Of gems, his satins. Lead on, Cesare;
For we will go together, laugh together.
SCENE IV
The French Court at Chinon.
King Louis XII. and the Lord Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere (afterwards Pope Julius II.)
LOUIS.
César de France!
This gold-haired bastard, with his dubious eyes
And sullen majesty, each day more splendid
In silks and gold, more sullen every hour
Behind his patient smile.... Mon Dieu, mon Dieu
How I have toiled to wed him, and content
The Pope, who has contented
My happiness, divorcing my sad wife,
And joining to my crown my Breton Queen—
How I have toiled! If César wants a crown,
Then in Carlotta he espoused the claim:
But Naples and his daughter would not listen.
This gold-haired bastard, with his dubious eyes
And sullen majesty, each day more splendid
In silks and gold, more sullen every hour
Behind his patient smile.... Mon Dieu, mon Dieu
How I have toiled to wed him, and content
The Pope, who has contented
My happiness, divorcing my sad wife,
And joining to my crown my Breton Queen—
How I have toiled! If César wants a crown,
Then in Carlotta he espoused the claim:
But Naples and his daughter would not listen.
GIULIANO.
LOUIS.
Monseigneur Jules as you a triple crown—
Son of Ligurian peasants!
Son of Ligurian peasants!
GIULIANO.
Ay,
Of Italy’s own soil. But as the vines
Breed flavour by the sod, Liguria
Creates in me survivance to ascend
The Throne my uncle Sixtus made august,
Holding each force ingenerate in man
Executive, building as Titans build.
Only Rodrigo Borgia’s Spanish gold
Has kept me unachieved, to bear the sorrow
Of Destiny’s elect that wait their star:
There is prepotency in such. This bastard
Tears through his day—a comet—to his fall.
Of Italy’s own soil. But as the vines
Breed flavour by the sod, Liguria
Creates in me survivance to ascend
The Throne my uncle Sixtus made august,
Holding each force ingenerate in man
Executive, building as Titans build.
Only Rodrigo Borgia’s Spanish gold
Has kept me unachieved, to bear the sorrow
Of Destiny’s elect that wait their star:
There is prepotency in such. This bastard
Tears through his day—a comet—to his fall.
LOUIS.
O Seigneur Dieu!
What bombast and vain glory in his coming.
The Kings of Fez or Ethiopia
Climb out of fewer jewels: our street-gazers
Have scarcely drawn their breath since he passed by,
The little Duke we titled Valentinois!
Yet, by all saints, he loads the air with sway
Of such duplicity and blandishment,
He puts such grace about magnificence,
Such a cold and heat about his speech—I, Louis
Of France, have promised
Soldiers to win him land, my niece to marry.
The papers all are signed. Acquaint the Pontiff,
With largest swell of triumph, Charlotte D’Albret
Of the blood royal is his César’s bride.
Cor meum—so he names this slip of his!
And he has been in fury like the Bull
Of his escutcheon at the scarlet waving
Of royal-hearted, contumacious Naples.
Felicitate our weary guest. The lady
Shall meet him in your presence. Saint Denys,
This unfrocked bastard of a priest, what order,
Or what precedence notes him, even his birth
Is sacrilege—he bows too low! God grant me
One day to set my face against his prayer!
What bombast and vain glory in his coming.
The Kings of Fez or Ethiopia
Climb out of fewer jewels: our street-gazers
Have scarcely drawn their breath since he passed by,
The little Duke we titled Valentinois!
Yet, by all saints, he loads the air with sway
Of such duplicity and blandishment,
He puts such grace about magnificence,
Such a cold and heat about his speech—I, Louis
Of France, have promised
Soldiers to win him land, my niece to marry.
The papers all are signed. Acquaint the Pontiff,
With largest swell of triumph, Charlotte D’Albret
Of the blood royal is his César’s bride.
Cor meum—so he names this slip of his!
And he has been in fury like the Bull
Of his escutcheon at the scarlet waving
Of royal-hearted, contumacious Naples.
Felicitate our weary guest. The lady
Shall meet him in your presence. Saint Denys,
This unfrocked bastard of a priest, what order,
Or what precedence notes him, even his birth
Is sacrilege—he bows too low! God grant me
One day to set my face against his prayer!
[Exit King Louis.
GIULIANO.
God grant that to Pope Julius! Domine,
Exaudi me, Pater omnnipotens!
I hate these Borgia! At their corner-stone,
Where lie their votive gifts of blood and gold
To Fortune, I will shake them—though, in exile,
I serve them for a while, to please this monarch
Whose voice can triple-crown.
Exaudi me, Pater omnnipotens!
I hate these Borgia! At their corner-stone,
Where lie their votive gifts of blood and gold
To Fortune, I will shake them—though, in exile,
I serve them for a while, to please this monarch
Whose voice can triple-crown.
Enter Duke Cesare de Valentinois.
Illustrious,
I give you joy—a bridegroom, formerly
A Cardinal—much joy!
I give you joy—a bridegroom, formerly
A Cardinal—much joy!
CESARE.
Thanks! Are campaigns of war
As tedious as these contracts? Naples first....
Naples will rue her part.
As tedious as these contracts? Naples first....
Naples will rue her part.
GIULIANO.
And then old D’Albret.
CESARE.
His clutch on ducats and on documents!
My lord, you have reported....
My lord, you have reported....
GIULIANO.
That the King hangs his wrist upon your shoulder,
That you have won all hearts, all company,
And now a bride is won—the Fleur-de-Luce.
That you have won all hearts, all company,
And now a bride is won—the Fleur-de-Luce.
CESARE.
More! I have royal pledge
Of aid to raise an army that will conquer
The Castles of Romagna for the Church.
Of aid to raise an army that will conquer
The Castles of Romagna for the Church.
GIULIANO.
CESARE.
Did Mercury have lessons for the lyre,
Or Hercules in wrestling? Were they not born
Each to his art’s perfection?
Or Hercules in wrestling? Were they not born
Each to his art’s perfection?
GIULIANO.
Rarely spoken!
Re-enter King Louis with Mademoiselle Charlotte d’Albret.
LOUIS.
Mon Duc de Valentinois,
I bring our Dian’s youngest nymph, our Queen’s
Sixteen-year maiden. Grow acquainted! Lotta,
You will be well contented with this bridegroom,
As young as he is handsome.
I bring our Dian’s youngest nymph, our Queen’s
Sixteen-year maiden. Grow acquainted! Lotta,
You will be well contented with this bridegroom,
As young as he is handsome.
[Cesare kisses her hand and leads her to a couch, sitting by her.
CESARE.
Madame, we are wedded,
A maytime couple, in two days.
Lord Giuliano, tell his Holiness:
Do not delay your letters.
A maytime couple, in two days.
Lord Giuliano, tell his Holiness:
Do not delay your letters.
LOUIS.
Come with me and write them,
Monseigneur Jules.
Monseigneur Jules.
[They withdraw, leaving Cesare and Charlotte d’Albret together. Cesare remains passive: he holds a golden ball of perfume, snuffs, and plays with it.
CESARE.
So is the world my bauble....
CHARLOTTE.
How sweet the fragrance!
CESARE.
CHARLOTTE.
Since Carlotta
Refuses you.... [Cesare starts up.
If you will have the truth,
As among royal princes, I am chosen
To wed you by the King and by my father.
Refuses you.... [Cesare starts up.
If you will have the truth,
As among royal princes, I am chosen
To wed you by the King and by my father.
CESARE.
[Letting his hand fall softly on her.
Princess, this is a colloquy of love.
CHARLOTTE.
[Lifting the hand and kissing it.
Oh, then, lord César, then I take this hand;
Then—you are mine.
Then—you are mine.
CESARE.
[In a murmur, looking away.] I shall have lawful heirs.
SCENE V
A Hall of the Vatican with a Loggia at the back overlooking the Via just opened to Sant’ Angelo, that is seen in the distance dressed with flags.
In the Loggia several Cardinals, the Lords Francesco Borgia, Bartolomeo of Segovia, Giovanni Michele, Gianstefano Ferreri and Giambattista Orsini.
In the Hall are Donna Adriana Orsini, Donna Lucrezia Borgia d’Aragon, Donna Sancia Borgia, Donna Giulia Farnese and Don Alfonso, Prince Duke of Bisceglia.
DONNA ADRIANA.
GIULIA.
As if there were a fire; and I am sleepy.
The early morning sleep, the beauty sleep
Dashed from our eyes! I am not half awake;
My eyes close, and I must to sleep again.
The early morning sleep, the beauty sleep
Dashed from our eyes! I am not half awake;
My eyes close, and I must to sleep again.
SANCIA.
You laggard, fie!
You will be out of favour.
You will be out of favour.
GIULIA.
No!
I shall please him better if I am asleep.
He will not wake me,
His Holiness remembers I am young.
I shall please him better if I am asleep.
He will not wake me,
His Holiness remembers I am young.
ALFONSO.
Young! If the young may take their fill of slumber—
LUCREZIA.
Come, I so softly stirred you—come, the dawn
Had not more softly coaxed you to awake.
Had not more softly coaxed you to awake.
ALFONSO.
I am sick and gaping.
LUCREZIA.
Hush!
SANCIA.
To wake in Naples, not this deadly Rome—
It is the air that kills!
It is the air that kills!
ALFONSO.
A wish
I echo from my heart. We are roused as slaves,
As slaves put in subservient offices.
I echo from my heart. We are roused as slaves,
As slaves put in subservient offices.
ADRIANA.
SANCIA.
But we are dead afraid.
ADRIANA.
Ah, you have cause!
SANCIA.
What cause? Ippolito is fled.
LUCREZIA.
Ippolito—your beautiful Ippolito!
Poor little Sancia.
Poor little Sancia.
[Putting her arms round Alfonso.
But you must not fly—
Never again. Carissimo, I want you
For the bloom of every hour.
Never again. Carissimo, I want you
For the bloom of every hour.
[The Lord Alexander VI. enters with Don Joffré Borgia. They rise and do him reverence. Lucrezia at once goes up to him.
ALEXANDER.
My daughter,
My child, you feel it....
My child, you feel it....
[Taking her hand and laying it on his heart.
As my heart is beating,
So beats your heart. There is within my substance
A change, a miracle. Too great a coming
And close descent of glory on my head!
So drooped
Our blessèd Lady at the infinite
Assault of the Almighty. In my bosom
How can I crush such agony of joy
As to receive a Prince,
A Governor, a Counsellor, all names
Of prophecy in one....
So beats your heart. There is within my substance
A change, a miracle. Too great a coming
And close descent of glory on my head!
So drooped
Our blessèd Lady at the infinite
Assault of the Almighty. In my bosom
How can I crush such agony of joy
As to receive a Prince,
A Governor, a Counsellor, all names
Of prophecy in one....
ADRIANA.
ALEXANDER.
Half the Romagna vanquished, Imola,
Forli with battered walls, and the Virago,
Fierce Catarina Sforza, like a Queen
Of Amazon, our Theseus’ prisoner.
Forli with battered walls, and the Virago,
Fierce Catarina Sforza, like a Queen
Of Amazon, our Theseus’ prisoner.
SANCIA.
For sixteen days she held his arms at bay.
ALEXANDER.
The seventeenth found her ringed around with fire.
LUCREZIA.
[Assuagingly.] Dear father,
Think of our Cesar—he is coming home;
We shall embrace him!
No—you are crying? He will wear the collar
Of the king’s gift. It makes me laugh for gladness.
Laugh too! I must not cry.
Think of our Cesar—he is coming home;
We shall embrace him!
No—you are crying? He will wear the collar
Of the king’s gift. It makes me laugh for gladness.
Laugh too! I must not cry.
ALEXANDER.
[Crying and laughing as he clasps her.] Alfonso, hopeless
The hope that ever you will sunder us!
She is eternal to me as my saints;
She saves me from all sorrow by her smile,
And she is ever smiling.
The hope that ever you will sunder us!
She is eternal to me as my saints;
She saves me from all sorrow by her smile,
And she is ever smiling.
ALFONSO.
Then indeed her frowns
She must give me, and I shall take them if
She has not given them away before.
A husband should have something of his own.
She must give me, and I shall take them if
She has not given them away before.
A husband should have something of his own.
ALEXANDER.
ALFONSO.
[Kissing her neck.] See, Father!
ALEXANDER.
Bacchus, she is blushing red!
My goblet full of pearls has left her marble.
Out on her, out! I must console myself!
My goblet full of pearls has left her marble.
Out on her, out! I must console myself!
[Pushing her to Alfonso and approaching Giulia.
Here is my idol, my carnality,
My rose of the flesh—how warm!
My rose of the flesh—how warm!
ADRIANA.
Lucrezia wrapped her thus.
[The Pope nods; then advances to the Loggia.
ALEXANDER.
Heigh, sentinels,
What recognition of this enemy
Who takes so easily our sacred streets,
For whom our women don their best attire?
What recognition of this enemy
Who takes so easily our sacred streets,
For whom our women don their best attire?
[He shakes with laughter.
This is too scandalous! The balconies,
The heads in wreaths—the mothers and the daughters—
Fie! But the mothers do not move me.
The heads in wreaths—the mothers and the daughters—
Fie! But the mothers do not move me.
[Turning to Giulia Farnese whom Sancia has awaked.
Giulia,
Look forth, my child. No, do not fix your gaze
On me, on what I look at.
Look forth, my child. No, do not fix your gaze
On me, on what I look at.
GIULIA.
Holiness,
I fix my eyes on you that you may fix
Your eyes full on La Bella.
I fix my eyes on you that you may fix
Your eyes full on La Bella.
ALEXANDER.
Ha, ha! Morning dew
Salutes us with more dazzle than at eve.
Sleep has been kind.
Salutes us with more dazzle than at eve.
Sleep has been kind.
GIULIA.
ALEXANDER.
A flower—
You please me well—a poppy-lidded flower!
Lord Cardinals,
With your lynx-eyes what do you track beyond
The open street?
You please me well—a poppy-lidded flower!
Lord Cardinals,
With your lynx-eyes what do you track beyond
The open street?
CARDINAL MICHELE.
Standards, long lances
At Ponte Milvio.
At Ponte Milvio.
ALEXANDER.
Ha! We shall be surprised:
This victor travels as he made retreat.
Come, Joffré, you have learnt your part: or is it
Alfonso plays the squire when he alights?
But start each one of you; in rivalry
Toil for the privilege.
This victor travels as he made retreat.
Come, Joffré, you have learnt your part: or is it
Alfonso plays the squire when he alights?
But start each one of you; in rivalry
Toil for the privilege.