Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition)/Volume 14/The Fool's Revenge/Act 3
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter Fiordelisa, from R.
FIORDELISA (pressing her hands to her temples).
Where am I? What has happened? let me think!
Those men!—that blinding veil,—the fresh night air
That struck upon my face! Then a wild struggle,
In strong and mastering arms! Then a long blank!
I must have fainted; when I woke I lay
On a rich couch in that room. Has he brought me
Into the very danger that he said
He came to take me from? Oh, cruel! No;
Falsehood could ne'er have found such words, such looks.
Father!—oh, when he comes and finds me gone!
I must go hence!
[Looking round.] That door!—
[She runs to side entrance, L.] 'T is locked!
[Shaking door.] Help! help!
How dare they draw their bolts on me! My father
Shall punish them for this! I will go forth!
[Shakes door again; the door opens from without.
At last!—Whoe'er you are, sir, help me hence!
[Enter Manfredi, L.
Take me back to my father! He will bless you!
Reward you—
MANFREDI.
Nay, your own lips must do that.
FIORDELISA.
Oh, they shall bless you too, sir—
MANFREDI.
To be blessed
With that sweet mouth were well, yet scarce enough.
FIORDELISA.
Oh, sir, we waste time! Set what price you will
On the great service, I am sure my father
Will pay you. [Manfredi re-locks the door.
MANFREDI.
If we 're to discuss your ransom
'T were fairest we should do it with closed doors;
The terms can scarce be settled till you know
Your prison, jailer, in what risk you stand.
First, for your prison,—Know you where you are?
FIORDELISA.
No.
MANFREDI.
In the Duke Manfredi's palace. Next,
Know you your jailer?
FIORDELISA.
Who?
MANFREDI.
Manfredi's self.
FIORDELISA (wringing her hands).
Woe's me!
MANFREDI.
What? Is the news so terrible?
FIORDELISA.
I've heard Brigitta, and my father, too,
Speak of the Duke Manfredi.
MANFREDI (aside).
Here 's a chance
To hear a genuine judgment of myself!
[To her.] They said—
FIORDELISA.
That he was cruel, bold, unsated
In thirst for evil pleasures,—it was odds
Whether more feared or hated in Faenza.
MANFREDI (aside).
Trust the crowd's garlic cheers and greasy caps!
The knaves shall know me worse ere they have done.
I thank you, pretty one,—I am the Duke!
FIORDELISA.
Then Heaven have mercy on me!
MANFREDI.
If report
Speak truth, your prayer were idle!—but report
Is a sad liar. Do I look the ogre
They painted to you? Nay, my fluttered dove,
Smooth but those ruffled feathers; look about you!
Is this so grim a dungeon? Was your couch
Last night so hard,—your 'tendance so ungentle?
I am your prisoner, fairest,—not you mine.
FIORDELISA.
Then let me go!
MANFREDI.
Not till you know at least
What you will lose by going. All Faenza
Is mine, and she I favour may command
Whate'er Faenza holds of wealth or pleasure.
I'll pour them at her feet, and after fling
Myself there too, to woo a gracious word!
What's life, ungraced by love?—a dismal sky
Without sun, moon, or starlight! 'T is a cup
Drained of the wine that reddened in its gold!
A lute shorn of its strings,—a table stripped
Of all its festal meats,—mere life in death
A jewel like thy beauty is not meet
To be shut in a chest; it should be set
To shine in princely robes,—to grace a crown.
I would set thee in mine. [Approaching her.
FIORDELISA.
Stand back, my lord!
MANFREDI.
Why, little fool, I would not harm a hair
On thy fair head. Think what thy life has been!
How dull and dark and dreary! It shall be
As bright and glad and sunny as the prime
Of summer flowers. Only repel not joy
Because it comes borne in the hand of Love!
FIORDELISA.
Oh, you profane that name! Is Love the friend
Of night and violence and robbery?
Let me go hence, I say! I have a father
Who'll make you terribly aby this wrong,
Lord as you are!
MANFREDI.
Your father! By the Mass!
She makes me laugh! Your father, girl! Bertuccio!
FIORDELISA.
That I should learn my father's name from him!
Yes, Duke, my father!
MANFREDI.
Why, he is my slave,—
A thing that crouches to me like my hound,
To beg for food or deprecate the lash,—
My butt,—my whipping-block,—my fool in motley!
FIORDELISA.
It is not true! This is a lie, like all
That you have said. Let me go forth, I say!
MANFREDI.
You 're in my palace. Here are none but those
To whom my will is law; your calls for help
Will only bring more force,—if I could stoop
To use force with a lady—
FIORDELISA.
Then you have
Some manhood in you. Look, sir, at us two.
You are a duke, you say,—your power but bounded
By your own will. I am a poor weak girl,
E'en weaker than I knew, if what you say
Touching my father be the truth. What honour
Is to be won on me? Yet, won it may be,
By yielding to my prayers to be set free,—
To be sent home. Oh, let me but go hence
As I came hither; I will speak to none
Of this night's outrage,—even to my father.
MANFREDI.
Ask anything but this.
FIORDELISA.
Nothing but this!
You have a wife, my lord; what if she knew?
MANFREDI.
The more need to take care that you tell her not!
Come, little one, give up these swelling looks,
Though they become you mightily.
FIORDELISA.
Stand off!
[He pursues her; she flies.
Help! Help! [Running to the C. door.
A door! ha!
MANFREDI (locking it outside).
Deeper in the toils!
[Laughs.] The lamb seeks shelter in the wolf's own den.
TORELLI (at L. door outside).
My lord!
MANFREDI (unlocks the door).
Torelli's voice! How now, Torelli?
TORELLI.
My lord, the Duchess is returned.
MANFREDI.
Why, man,
Thy news is stale; the Duchess has been here
These five hours; she arrived, post-haste, ere sunrise.
She must have ridden in the dark. 'T was that
Prevented me from making earlier matins
Before my little saint here.
TORELLI.
Do you know
What brought the Duchess back so suddenly?
MANFREDI.
Some jealous fancy pricked her, as I judge
From her accost when we encountered first;
And, as I gathered, she suspects contrivance
Betwixt me and the Countess Malatesta.
'T was a relief, for once, that I could twit her
With groundless fears. I told her Malatesta
Rode yesterday with his lady to Cesena,
And, for more proof, repeated what he said,
That on my wife's least summons, she'd return;
So she has summoned her, in hopes, no doubt,
To catch me in a lie. Her messenger
Rode to Cesena just at daybreak. Soon
We may look for him back, bringing, I hope,
Ginevra Malatesta.
TORELLI.
This is rare.
So falls she off the scent, and leaves you here
To follow up your game with Fiordelisa.
MANFREDI.
Even so; I excused me from her presence
By work of State, for which to this pavilion
I had summoned you and the envoy of Florence,—
Staid work of State, being no less a one
Than to lend me your presences at the banquet
I mean to offer our fair prisoner.
Bid Ordelaffi and Ascolti hither,
And send my men with fruits and wines and sweetmeats,—
All that is likeliest to tempt the sense
Of this scared bird.
TORELLI.
How did you find her, sir?
MANFREDI.
Beating her pretty wings against the bars;
Still calling for her father. Shrewdly minded
To peck, instead of kissing, silly fledgeling!
But I will tame her yet, till she shall come
To perch upon my finger.
TORELLI.
Where is she?
MANFREDI.
In the inner room, whither she fled but now.
Fear not,—I turned the key on her; she 's safe.
TORELLI.
I'll send what you command, and warn the rest
That you attend them. Good speed to your wooing!
MANFREDI.
Now for my prisoner! by gentle means
To gain her ear. Asmodeus, tip my tongue
With love's persuasion.
FRANCESCA (unmasking).
Was 't not Torelli went hence, even now?
BERTUCCIO.
By the great walk? I think it was. Be sure
He saw us not in the pleached laurel alley.
FRANCESCA.
Then you still bear me out, my husband lies?
That Malatesta's wife has not gone hence?
BERTUCCIO.
Trust a fool's eyes before a husband's tongue.
I say again, I was at hand last night
When your lord bore from Malatesta's house
Said Malatesta's wife. I saw the deed.
I heard the order given to bring her hither.
FRANCESCA.
Then 't was by force, not by the lady's will,
She came?
BERTUCCIO.
Force? Quotha,—force? How many ladies
Have had to bless the "force" that saved their tongue
An awkward "yes!" See you not what an answer
"Force" finds for all? It stops a husband's mouth;
Crams its fist down the town's throat; nay, at a pinch,
Perks its sufficient self in a wife's face.
Commend me still to "force." It saves more credits
Than e'er it ruined virtues. After folly,
I hold force the best mask that wit has found
To mock the world with!
FRANCESCA.
There 's weight in that.
This violence would stand her in good stead,
Were she e'er called in question! Then what matter,
[Bertuccio, who has been moving round the room, stops opposite centre door.
So I be wronged, if 't is by force or will!
Would I had certain proof!
BERTUCCIO.
Ha! you want proof?
Come here! [The Duchess approaches him.
Stand where I stand. Now listen,—close.
FRANCESCA (listening at door).
My husband's voice in passionate entreaty!
BERTUCCIO.
Only his voice?
FRANCESCA (starting).
An answering voice! a woman's!
These are your State affairs, my gracious duke!
BERTUCCIO.
If you would have more proof, I'll bring you where
You shall hear his humble tools in last night's business
Discuss the deed,—all noble gentlemen,
Who'd pluck my hood about my ears if I
Durst hint a doubt of their veracity.
FRANCESCA.
Do so; and if they bear thy story out,
I know my part.
BERTUCCIO.
What! tears?
FRANCESCA.
Tears? Death to both!
BERTUCCIO.
Take care! His guards are faithful. Can you trust
A hand to do the deed?
FRANCESCA.
I trust my own.
BERTUCCIO.
Women turn pale at blood. Your heart may fail you
When the time comes to strike.
FRANCESCA.
Daggers for men!
I know a surer weapon.
BERTUCCIO (creeping up to her and whispering).
Poison?
FRANCESCA (putting her finger on her lip).
Hush!
The Borgia's physician gave it me!
It may be trusted!
BERTUCCIO (withdrawing, aside).
My she leopard's loosed!
FRANCESCA (still at the door, C., listening).
Past doubt, a woman's tongue! And now my husband's
How well I know the soft, smooth, pleading voice,—
The voice that drew my young heart to my lips
When, at my father's court, I plighted troth
To him, and he to me! Oh, bitterness!
Now spurned for each new leman of the hour!
Oh, he shall learn how terrible is hate
That grows of love abused!
[Taking a phial from her bosom.
Come, bosom friend,
That hast lain cold, of late, against my heart,
As if to whisper to it, "Be thou stone,
When the time calls for me." [Looking at the phial.
Each drop's a death!
What matter who she be? Enough for me
That she usurps the place that should be mine
In Galeotto's love! Hark! some one comes.
Hold, sir; set down your charge.
PAGE.
By your leave, madame:
'T is for my lord.
FRANCESCA.
Since when was that an answer
To give thy lady? [Removes her mask.
PAGE (aside).
'T is the Duchess! [Respectfully.] Pardon,
I knew you not.
FRANCESCA.
Enough, sir, set it down,
And wait without till I bid thee bear in.
[Exit Page, L., after placing the salver on the table.
What need of further proof? Is 't heaven or hell
That sends this apt occasion? Galeotto,
I warned thee in the springtime of our loves,
This hand could kill as easy as caress;
You laughed, and took it in your ampler palm,
And said that death were pleasant from such white
And taper fingers. Try it now!
[She pours some of the contents of the phial into the flagons of wine.
'T is done!
BERTUCCIO.
Hide, here, Madonna: here their lordships come!
I met them on the way, so brave and merry!
My gossip Galeotto bids them here,
To feast with him and her!
FRANCESCA (aside).
Their doom is sealed!
BERTUCCIO.
It is your due; you that go out bat-fowling
Lack wine o' mornings to keep up your hearts.
ORDELAFFI.
Why, thou wert there, knave; yet try thou to enter
Into the presence, and they'll whip thee back;
His Highness wants no fool to-day!
BERTUCCIO.
That 's true,—
With you two for his company. But tell me,
How will the lady relish, o'er her wine,
The cut-throat faces that she saw last night?
Methinks 't will mar her appetite.
ASCOLTI.
Be sure
She will not look so scared at us
As thou would'st at the sight of her.
BERTUCCIO.
Who—I?
Nay, I but held the ladder; we poor knaves
Must take the leavings of your rogueries,
As of your feasts; but prithee, Ordelaffi,
How looked she in her night-rail?
ORDELAFFI.
Would'st believe it?
Methought she had a something of thy favour,
As—if so crook'd a thing could have a daughter—
Thy daughter might have had.
ASCOLTI.
How now? He winces!
There cannot, sure, be issue of thy loins!
Nature's too merciful; she broke the mould
When she turned thee out!
BERTUCCIO.
Nature, sir, proportions
Her witty fools to her dull ones; while she makes
Ascoltis, she must needs produce Bertuccios
To sting their hard hides now and then. But tell me,
Think you Ginevra needed all that force?
ORDELAFFI.
She struggled stoutly; but a lady's struggles,
I take it, are much like her "no,"—which often
Must be read "yes."
ASCOLTI.
Let's in, at once, my lords.
BERTUCCIO.
I'll marshal you. Who said that cap and bells
Should be shut out?
ASCOLTI.
Stand back, Sir Fool; 't were best
You may repent your pressing on too far.
BERTUCCIO.
I fain would see the lady; 't is not often
That one can carry a beauty off at night,
And make her laugh i' the morning.
ORDELAFFI.
Neither she
Nor you, I think, are likely to breed much mirth
Out of each other.
BERTUCCIO.
Say you so? Here goes!
Why, how now, sirrah? I 'm the fool!
PAGE.
Stand back!
BERTUCCIO.
I!—why I'm free o' the palace; every place
Except the council chamber, and in that
I sit by proxy!
PAGE.
'T is the Duke's strict order
You enter not this room.
[Bertuccio is pressing forward.
Back! or the grooms
Shall score thy hunch to motley. [He closes the door.
ASCOLTI.
How now, sirrah!
Call you this marshalling?
BERTUCCIO.
I am right served!
I forgot that fools in silks should take precedence
Of fools in motley! Lead the way, my lords!
ORDELAFFI.
Look! here comes Malatesta.
BERTUCCIO.
Ha!—but stay,
To hear me gird at him! You call me bitter;
Now you shall see how merciful I've been.
ASCOLTI.
Waste not your ears on him; the Duke awaits us
Beside his beauty,—metal more attractive
Than this cursed word-catcher.
ORDELAFFI.
Ay, ay! let's in.
BERTUCCIO.
Now, now, Madonna, have you proof enough?
FRANCESCA.
Mountains of proof on proof, if proof were needed;
But had disproof come with them, and not proof,
'T is all too late.
BERTUCCIO.
How?
FRANCESCA.
I have drugged their wine.
They will sleep sound to-night. [She retires up stage.
BERTUCCIO (aside).
Choose woman's hands,
You that would have grim work nimbly dispatched!
Here 's Malatesta,—looking black as night!
So, Lord, I hope you liked your waking news?
Now—now—to gloat over his agony!
MALATESTA (not seeing The Duchess).
Ha, knave, I'd see the Duchess.
BERTUCCIO (looking at him curiously).
Marvellous!
MALATESTA.
How now?
BERTUCCIO.
To think that they can make such caps
To hide all trace of them!
MALATESTA.
Of what knave?
BERTUCCIO.
Horns.
MALATESTA.
Rascal!
BERTUCCIO.
I hope your lordship had good rest,
And that my lady, too, slept undisturbed?
MALATESTA.
What mean you, sirrah?
BERTUCCIO.
Nay, strain not so hard
To keep it down; you are among friends here.
A grievous loss, no doubt; but at your age
You could scarce look to keep her to yourself.
Others have lost wives, too,—poor knaves who thought
To stick in their thrum-caps jewels that caught
The eyes of nobles; needs were they must yield
Daughters or wives—
MALATESTA.
Art mad, or drunk, or both?
My errand's to thy mistress, not to thee.
Where is she?
FRANCESCA (coming down stage).
Here, my lord! [They talk apart.
BERTUCCIO.
He bears it bravely,
But wounds will bleed under an iron corselet:
And how his must be bleeding! For he loved her—
The whole Court vouches it—as old men love,
Husbanding their spent fires into a heat,
The fiercer that it has short time to burn.
FRANCESCA.
You say your lady slept not here, last night,
But at Cesena?
MALATESTA.
Or the devil's in 't.
I saw her safe bestowed there; I can trust
My own eyes,—or still better, my own bolts.
BERTUCCIO (amazed and aside).
Is this old man, too, of Manfredi's council,
To cheat his wife?
MALATESTA.
I little thought to bring her back so soon,
But on your summons, I have straight recalled her.
BERTUCCIO (breaking in eagerly).
And she is here; hold him to that, Madonna!
MALATESTA.
Malapert dog!
FRANCESCA.
Pardon his licensed tongue.
I fain would see the lady.
MALATESTA (bowing).
You shall see her;
I have not far to fetch her. [Exit L.
BERTUCCIO (furiously).
'T is a lie,—
A cursed lie, to hide his own foul shame!
Believe him not!
FRANCESCA.
But if he bring the lady?
BERTUCCIO (laughing).
Ay, if he bring the lady, then believe him!
[Aside.] He robs me of my right,—taking his wrong
With outward show of calm: mine turned my brain.
I looked to see him mad, or drive him so!
MANFREDI (within).
More wine, knave!
FRANCESCA.
Ginevra, or another,—what of that?
The wrong's the same; why not the same revenge?
BERTUCCIO.
The same to you, but not the same to me!
I tell you, Malatesta's wife sits yonder,—
Sits at your husband's side; I saw her—I—
Borne off last night! I saw! There is no faith
In eyes or ears or truth, if 't were not she!
MALATESTA.
Madame, my wife!
BERTUCCIO (turning in amaze).
Ginevra here! Then who
Was that they carried from her bed last night?
Who is 't sits yonder?
FRANCESCA.
Tell me, gracious lady,
Where did you sleep last night?
GENEVRA.
Where I scarce thought
To leave so soon, your Highness; in Cesena,
Within my husband's castle.
FRANCESCA.
Pardon, madame,
That I have set you on a hurried journey,
Still more that I have wronged you in my thoughts!
[Passing her hand over her brow. Laughter heard within.
[Aside.] They laugh! Laugh on, my lord, while it is time.
GENEVRA.
Will 't please you, grant me audience; you shall hear
To the minute how my hours went yesterday,
Down to this moment.
FRANCESCA.
Come out in the air;
I stifle within hearing of their mirth.
[To Bertuccio.] Stay here; see that the other 'scape me not. [Exit Francesca and Ginevra, L.
BERTUCCIO.
The other! Not Ginevra?
[To Malatesta.] Good, my lord,
Your wife slept at Cesena, yet her chamber
Was not untenanted last night, I'll swear!
MALATESTA.
And so thou might'st, yet break no oath.
BERTUCCIO.
Who slept in 't?
MALATESTA.
I know not. Ask Dell' Aquila; 't was he
Brought me the lady, craving shelter for her
From some great danger.
BERTUCCIO.
But you saw her face?
MALATESTA.
And if I did, think'st thou I'd trust her name
To thy ass-ears? [Exit Malatesta, L.
BERTUCCIO.
Fooled—mocked of my revenge!
The sweetest morsel on 't whipped from my teeth!
Oh, I could brain myself with my own bawble!
[Enter Dell' Aquila, L.
[Aside.] Dell' Aquila. He knows.
DELL' AQUILA.
Well met, Bertuccio;
I've sought thee since this morning,—nay, since midnight.
BERTUCCIO.
Ha!
DELL' AQUILA.
For a matter much concerns thy peace.
Thou hast a daughter. [Bertuccio starts.] How I know thou hast
Matters not to my story.
BERTUCCIO (hastily).
Hush! hush! hush!
If you know this, as you 're a Christian man,
And poet,—poets should have softer hearts
Than courts and camps breed now-a-days,—oh, keep
The knowledge to yourself!
DELL' AQUILA.
It is too late.
Torelli knew it; had set wolfish eyes
On her—
BERTUCCIO.
Well? well?
DELL' AQUILA.
Had rung her beauty's praise
Here in the Court. Thou hast no friends here.
BERTUCCIO (eagerly).
Well?
DELL' AQUILA.
They plotted how to lure thee from the house;
And in thy absence to surprise her window,
And bear her off! They bound me by an oath
To keep it secret from thee—not from her.
I swore to save her or to lose myself,
So found a desperate means of speech with her,
And warned her of her danger.
BERTUCCIO.
Thanks! thanks! thanks!
But only warned her!
DELL' AQUILA.
Placed her, too, in safety.
BERTUCCIO.
Oh, heaven! where?
DELL' AQUILA.
In the house of Malatesta.
BERTUCCIO (hoarsely).
My child in Malatesta's house last night?
DELL' AQUILA.
Secure;—even in the Countess's own chamber!
BERTUCCIO (with a wild cry).
My child! my child! wronged! murdered!
DELL' AQUILA.
Ha! by whom?
BERTUCCIO (wildly).
By me! by me! Her father—her own father!
That would have grasped Heaven's vengeance, and have drawn
The bolt on my own head, and hers—and hers!
DELL' AQUILA.
What do you mean?
BERTUCCIO.
I counselled the undoing
Of Malatesta's wife. I stood and watched,
And laughed for joy, and held the ladder for them;
And all the while 't was my own innocent child!
Look not so scared—'t is true; I am not mad!
She's here—now—in their clutches! [Laughter within.
Hark! they laugh.
'T is the hyænas o'er their prey—my child!—
And I stand here and cannot lift a hand!
DELL' AQUILA.
Here's mine, and my sword, too!
BERTUCCIO.
Oh, what were that
Against their felon blades?
DELL' AQUILA.
True, true! what aid?
Ha, there's the Duchess!
BERTUCCIO (shrieks).
I had forgotten her!
[Drawing Dell' Aquila to him and whispering hoarsely.
Man, she has drugged their wine; the bony Death
Plays cupbearer to them: if she drinks, she dies!
[Enter a Page with wine, L.
Look! look! Perchance that is the very wine!
[He runs between the Page and the door, and assumes the Fool's manner.
Halt there! for the fool's toll. No wine goes in
But pays the fool's toll.
PAGE.
Out knave! Stand aside!
BERTUCCIO.
'T is forfeit by the law!
PAGE.
Thy back shall bleed
To make it up. Now must I go fetch more,—
And brook the cellarer's chiding for thy folly.
BERTUCCIO (to Dell' Aquila).
If he goes in—could we but enter with him!
A word of mine might save her from the poison.
TORELLI.
Good-day, Sir Poet; stand aside, Sir Fool.
BERTUCCIO.
You are going in?
TORELLI.
Ay!
BERTUCCIO.
There's a shrewd hiatus
Needs filling at the table. You have War
And Love, but, lacking Poetry and Folly,
War is but butchery, and Love goes lame.
Tuck us beneath your wings, sweet Baldassare,
And you'll be trebly welcome.
TORELLI.
The Duke for once has shut his doors against
Both Poetry and Folly. He is cloistered
For grave affairs.
BERTUCCIO.
Tush! tell me not, sweet gossip.
Why, man, I know that there 's a petticoat—
And more, I know the wearer.
TORELLI.
Thou!
BERTUCCIO.
You've lost
The rarest sport. Ascolti and Ordelaffi
Have had their will of me. For once I'll own
You've turned the tables fairly on the fool!
That our Ginevra should be Fiordelisa,
And poor Bertuccio not know! Ha, ha!
Oh, excellent! It was a sleight of hand
I shall remember to my dying day.
TORELLI.
Nay, an' thou tak'st it so—
BERTUCCIO.
How should I take it?
Besides the pleasantness of it, there's the honour.
Think! my poor daughter in the Duke's high favour!
Why, there are counts by scores had pawned their 'scutcheons
To come into such grace. I warrant now,
You thought I'd swear, and storm, and rend you all,
So shut me out. But, lo you! I am merry;
And so shall she be, if you'll let me in.
But let me in—I'll school the silly wench—
Teach her what honour she has come to; thank
The gracious duke, and play the merriest antics.
You'll swear you never saw me in such fooling—
But take me in.
TORELLI.
Why, now! the fool's grown wise!
I'll tell the Duke; perchance he'll let thee in.
DELL' AQUILA.
Lives hang on minutes here. Said you the Duchess
Had mixed the poison, or but meant to mix it?
BERTUCCIO.
There it is, man,—I know not which. E'en now
Death may be busy at her lips. Once in,
In my mad antics I might spurn the board,
And spill the flagons as I did e'en now;
But here I'm helpless. Oh, Beelzebub!
Inspire them with desire to see a father
Make laughter of the undoing of his child!
Ha, some one comes! They'll let me in!
TORELLI (at the door).
The Duke
Will none of thy ape's tricks.
DELL' AQUILA (rushing forward).
What ho! Torelli!
And you within, you, my lord duke, 'fore all!
I do proclaim you cowards, ruffians, beasts.
Come out, if you be men, and drive my challenge
Back in my throat, if you've one heart among you!
BERTUCCIO.
You speak to men; they 're fiends.
DELL' AQUILA.
No hope! no hope!
Yes! here's the Duchess; she 's a woman still—
BERTUCCIO.
Madame, and you, too [To Ginevra.], plotting your undoing,
I've compassed the destruction of my child,—
The daughter that I loved more than my life.
'T was she they seized last night, and she 's in there.
FRANCESCA.
Your child?
BERTUCCIO.
From death, if not wrong worse than death,
You still may save her. Have the doors burst open.
You can command here—next the Duke; if not,
At least [aside to her] forbear the poison!
FRANCESCA (aside to him).
'T is too late.
The wine was here!
BERTUCCIO.
Then this alone remains.
[He rushes up to the door and shouts.
Come forth, my lords! The Duke's life—all your lives
Hang by a thread! Come forth—all! For your lives!
[Torelli, Ascolti, and Ordelaffi appear at the door.
Your wine is poisoned!
TORELLI.
Ha! Who did the deed?
BERTUCCIO.
I! Drink not—for your lives!
FRANCESCA.
He lies! 'T was I!
BERTUCCIO.
My child! my child!
TORELLI (who has turned back at the sound, flinging the door wide open).
Look to the Duke, my lords!
BERTUCCIO.
Too late! too late!
TORELLI.
He 's dead!
FRANCESCA.
Before all men,
I'll answer this!
BERTUCCIO.
Before Heaven's judgment seat,
How shall I answer this? [Pointing to Fiordelisa.
Dead—dead—my bird!
My lily flower! Gone to thy last account,
All sinless as thou wert. My fool's revenge
Ends but in this! Cold! cold!
[Putting his hand on her heart.] Ha! Yes! a beat!
[Putting his lips to her mouth.
A breath! A full deep breath!
She lives! she lives!
Say, some of you, she drank not, and I'll bless
The man that says so,—yea, so pray for him
As saints ne'er prayed! She breathes still! Hark! hark!
FIORDELISA (faintly).
Father!
TORELLI.
She never drank! Thou hast her pure as when
She kissed thy lips last night!
BERTUCCIO.
Oh, bless you, bless you!
She lives—lives—lives! Leave us to pray together.
TORELLI (to Francesca).
Madame, you are our prisoner: the Duke
Lies foully murdered.
FRANCESCA.
Ha! what call you "foully"?
Who but myself can estimate my wrongs?
For those who stand, like him, past reach of justice,
Vengeance takes Justice's sharp sword.
BERTUCCIO.
No, no!
Vengeance is hellish! Justice is from heaven!
Look, Guido Malatesta, I am he
Whose wife, long years ago, you stole from him:
I am Antonio Bordiga!
MALATESTA.
You?
BERTUCCIO.
I thirsted for revenge; for that I wrought
Upon the Duke to carry off your wife,—
Your innocent Ginevra. Seeking that,
See to what verge of terrible disaster
I've brought my own dear daughter!—seeking that,
I've compassed the Duke's death, whose blood must lie
Still on my head!
FRANCESCA (proudly).
I take it upon mine!
My father, Giovanni Bentivoglio,
Stands at your gates, in arms! Let who will, question
Francesca Bentivoglio of this deed.
FIORDELISA.
Father, let 's pray for her!
BERTUCCIO.
For her—for me!
We need it both! Ah, thou said'st well, my child!
Vengeance is not man's attribute, but Heaven's!
I have usurped it. [Hiding his face in her bosom.
Pray—oh, pray for me!
THE END.