Vittoria
By Margaret Sherwood
Dramatis Personæ
| Marco dei Pontarini, an old man. | ||
| Vittoria, his daughter. | ||
| Luigi Montara, a scholar. | ||
| Frate Giacomo, and other monks. | ||
| Teresa, | servants. | |
| Vanni, | ||
ACT I
Scene I.—A road, skirting a southern sea.
Father and daughter are walking along it
hand in hand.
Their servants are behind.
Father and daughter are walking along it
hand in hand.
Their servants are behind.
Vittoria. Let Vanni and Teresa stay awhile
To watch the horses eat, and you and I,
Padre carissimo, will climb the hill,
To find what lies beyond. I cannot see
A road that thus leads off into the blue
Without a quiver in my feet to go
Unto its very end, where surely waits
All that I wish to know.
To watch the horses eat, and you and I,
Padre carissimo, will climb the hill,
To find what lies beyond. I cannot see
A road that thus leads off into the blue
Without a quiver in my feet to go
Unto its very end, where surely waits
All that I wish to know.
Father (smiling sadly). Bambina mia,
You know already that the springtime runs
Swiftly along our path. Red tulips grow
Close to the beaten dust. Anemones
Make purple shadows in the living grass—
That is enough to know!
You know already that the springtime runs
Swiftly along our path. Red tulips grow
Close to the beaten dust. Anemones
Make purple shadows in the living grass—
That is enough to know!
Vittoria.That is enough to know! How the sun shines!
And see, between the gray-green olive leaves,
The sky is blue. Just as they did at home
The birds sing here: nothing is different,
And yet to me it all is strange and new.
Adventure lurks for me behind each hill
And all is mystery. Only the sea
Is still the same. Father, you cannot know
My joy in this! You cannot feel how sweet
Is the first step upon the open road.
[The father sighs.
But you are weary?
Father.But you are weary? Nay, yet I shall be
When we have reached the top.
Vittoria.have reached the toOh, what is that?
Father. That, daughter, is the city of my birth.
Watch her great river shining toward the sea!
Its murmur was the first sound in my ears.
And look! That golden cross against the blue
Marks the cathedral into whose white stone
My forebears, working, father and then son,
Built their own lives. The slender tower there
Guards the grim fortress where my father sat
And helped to rule the city.
And see, between the gray-green olive leaves,
The sky is blue. Just as they did at home
The birds sing here: nothing is different,
And yet to me it all is strange and new.
Adventure lurks for me behind each hill
And all is mystery. Only the sea
Is still the same. Father, you cannot know
My joy in this! You cannot feel how sweet
Is the first step upon the open road.
[The father sighs.
But you are weary?
Father.But you are weary? Nay, yet I shall be
When we have reached the top.
Vittoria.have reached the toOh, what is that?
[She points to a distant city visible from the top of the hill.
Father. That, daughter, is the city of my birth.
Watch her great river shining toward the sea!
Its murmur was the first sound in my ears.
And look! That golden cross against the blue
Marks the cathedral into whose white stone
My forebears, working, father and then son,
Built their own lives. The slender tower there
Guards the grim fortress where my father sat
And helped to rule the city.
Vittoria.d to rule the city. Tell me more!
Father. I see, but you cannot—eyes will not serve—
A narrow street that meets the river-bank
And part way climbs the hill. There you may find
In tiny shops, and studios half hid
Close to the eaves, pictures and carvings rare,
Statues whose marble is immortal, all
By inspiration in long silence wrought,
Sacred with patience of unnumbered years.
That narrow street is held in reverence
Throughout the world. Thither throng human souls
As to a tidal river come the waves.
A narrow street that meets the river-bank
And part way climbs the hill. There you may find
In tiny shops, and studios half hid
Close to the eaves, pictures and carvings rare,
Statues whose marble is immortal, all
By inspiration in long silence wrought,
Sacred with patience of unnumbered years.
That narrow street is held in reverence
Throughout the world. Thither throng human souls
As to a tidal river come the waves.
Vittoria. And never have I seen it, street nor church
Nor crowding people. Why, along the sea
Have we stayed hidden? Will you tell me now?
Nor crowding people. Why, along the sea
Have we stayed hidden? Will you tell me now?
Father. Dear, you have asked so often! not to-day.
Some day you shall be told.
Some day you shall be told.
Vittoria.you shall be told. Oh, I shall be
So wise, my father, when you tell me all
That you have promised—some day!
So wise, my father, when you tell me all
That you have promised—some day!
Father.have promised—some day! Little one,
Of all the wisdom of my sixty years
The best is shared with you. Be happy, dear,
And let the silences be silence: better thus
Than turn them into pain.
Of all the wisdom of my sixty years
The best is shared with you. Be happy, dear,
And let the silences be silence: better thus
Than turn them into pain.
Vittoria.them into pain. I am content
With speech or silence, padre mio. Both
From you are as the voice of God to me.
This warm sun makes me sleepy. Will you sit
And let me find a pillow on your knee
Until they come?
With speech or silence, padre mio. Both
From you are as the voice of God to me.
This warm sun makes me sleepy. Will you sit
And let me find a pillow on your knee
Until they come?
[They sit down on the rocks by the roadside. Vittoria
puts her head against her father’s knee,
and presently falls asleep. He sits, now looking
down at her, now off in the distance toward
the city of his birth.
puts her head against her father’s knee,
and presently falls asleep. He sits, now looking
down at her, now off in the distance toward
the city of his birth.
Father.they come? Strange that upon one road
Sunshine should fall on her face, and from mine
The shadow not be lifted!
Sunshine should fall on her face, and from mine
The shadow not be lifted!
Scene II.—There is a footstep on the road.
Luigi Montara approaches, his head bent, a
book under his arm. He stops, then uncovers
his head and advances.
Luigi Montara approaches, his head bent, a
book under his arm. He stops, then uncovers
his head and advances.
Luigi. If some misfortune has befallen you
Pray let me be of service.
Pray let me be of service.
Father.e be of service. Nay, we rest;
Our horses are behind. We journey on
After an hour toward the city gates.
Our horses are behind. We journey on
After an hour toward the city gates.
Luigi. Surely not now!
Father.Surely not now! And wherefore?
Luigi.Surely not now! AndKnow you not
All leave the city and none enter now?
Within is horror, for the plague is there.
Each day the river carries toward the sea
Scores of dead bodies.
All leave the city and none enter now?
Within is horror, for the plague is there.
Each day the river carries toward the sea
Scores of dead bodies.
Father.dead bodies. Father. Hush! Oh, hush!
Luigi.You cannot bear to hear it, yet would go?
Cease your vainGo on I must.
Luigi.Go on I muSome weighty matter then
Of life and death
Of life and death
Father (in sudden anger). Cease your vain
talk of death,
talk of death,
Vol. XXXVII.—55
497
