SCENE
A large corridor in the Ducal Palace: a window (L.C.) looks out on a view of Padua by moonlight: a staircase (R.C.) leads up to a door with a portiere of crimson velvet, with the Duke's arms embroidered in gold on it: on the lowest step of the staircase a figure draped in black is sitting: the hall is lit by an iron cresset filled with burning tow: thunder and lightning outside: the time is night.
[Enter GUIDO through the window.]
GUIDO
The wind is rising: how my ladder shook!
I thought that every gust would break the cords!
[Looks out at the city.]
Christ! What a night:
Great thunder in the heavens, and wild lightnings Striking from pinnacle to pinnacle Across the city, till the dim houses seem To shudder and to shake as each new glare Dashes adown the street.
[Passes across the stage to foot of staircase.]
Ah! who art thou That sittest on the stair, like unto Death Waiting a guilty soul? [A pause.]
Canst thou not speak?
Or has this storm laid palsy on thy tongue, And chilled thy utterance?
[The figure rises and takes off his mask.]
MORANZONE
Guido Ferranti, Thy murdered father laughs for joy to-night.
GUIDO
[confusedly]
What, art thou here?
MORANZONE
Ay, waiting for your coming.
GUIDO
[looking away from him]
I did not think to see you, but am glad, That you may know the thing I mean to do.
MORANZONE
First, I would have you know my well-laid plans;
Listen: I have set horses at the gate Which leads to Parma: when you have done your business We will ride hence, and by to-morrow night -
GUIDO
It cannot be.
MORANZONE
Nay, but it shall.
GUIDO
Listen, Lord Moranzone, I am resolved not to kill this man.
MORANZONE
Surely my ears are traitors, speak again:
It cannot be but age has dulled my powers, I am an old man now: what did you say?
You said that with that dagger in your belt You would avenge your father's bloody murder;
Did you not say that?
GUIDO
No, my lord, I said I was resolved not to kill the Duke.
MORANZONE
You said not that; it is my senses mock me;
Or else this midnight air o'ercharged with storm Alters your message in the giving it.
GUIDO
Nay, you heard rightly; I'll not kill this man.
MORANZONE
What of thine oath, thou traitor, what of thine oath?
GUIDO
I am resolved not to keep that oath.
MORANZONE
What of thy murdered father?
GUIDO
Dost thou think My father would be glad to see me coming, This old man's blood still hot upon mine hands?
MORANZONE
Ay! he would laugh for joy.
GUIDO
I do not think so, There is better knowledge in the other world;
Vengeance is God's, let God himself revenge.
MORANZONE
Thou art God's minister of vengeance.
GUIDO
No!
God hath no minister but his own hand.
I will not kill this man.
MORANZONE
Why are you here, If not to kill him, then?
GUIDO
Lord Moranzone, I purpose to ascend to the Duke's chamber, And as he lies asleep lay on his breast The dagger and this writing; when he awakes Then he will know who held him in his power And slew him not: this is the noblest vengeance Which I can take.
MORANZONE
You will not slay him?
GUIDO
No.
MORANZONE
Ignoble son of a noble father, Who sufferest this man who sold that father To live an hour.
GUIDO
'Twas thou that hindered me;
I would have killed him in the open square, The day I saw him first.
MORANZONE
It was not yet time;
Now it is time, and, like some green-faced girl, Thou pratest of forgiveness.
GUIDO
No! revenge:
The right revenge my father's son should take.
MORANZONE
You are a coward, Take out the knife, get to the Duke's chamber, And bring me back his heart upon the blade.
When he is dead, then you can talk to me Of noble vengeances.
GUIDO
Upon thine honour, And by the love thou bearest my father's name, Dost thou think my father, that great gentleman, That generous soldier, that most chivalrous lord, Would have crept at night-time, like a common thief, And stabbed an old man sleeping in his bed, However he had wronged him: tell me that.
MORANZONE
[after some hesitation]
You have sworn an oath, see that you keep that oath.
Boy, do you think I do not know your secret, Your traffic with the Duchess?
GUIDO
Silence, liar!
The very moon in heaven is not more chaste.
Nor the white stars so pure.
MORANZONE
And yet, you love her;
Weak fool, to let love in upon your life, Save as a plaything.
GUIDO
You do well to talk:
Within your veins, old man, the pulse of youth Throbs with no ardour. Your eyes full of rheum Have against Beauty closed their filmy doors, And your clogged ears, losing their natural sense, Have shut you from the music of the world.
You talk of love! You know not what it is.
MORANZONE
Oh, in my time, boy, have I walked i' the moon, Swore I would live on kisses and on blisses, Swore I would die for love, and did not die, Wrote love bad verses; ay, and sung them badly, Like all true lovers: Oh, I have done the tricks!
I know the partings and the chamberings;
We are all animals at best, and love Is merely passion with a holy name.
GUIDO
Now then I know you have not loved at all.
Love is the sacrament of life; it sets Virtue where virtue was not; cleanses men Of all the vile pollutions of this world;
It is the fire which purges gold from dross, It is the fan which winnows wheat from chaff, It is the spring which in some wintry soil Makes innocence to blossom like a rose.
The days are over when God walked with men, But Love, which is his image, holds his place.
When a man loves a woman, then he knows God's secret, and the secret of the world.
There is no house so lowly or so mean, Which, if their hearts be pure who live in it, Love will not enter; but if bloody murder Knock at the Palace gate and is let in, Love like a wounded thing creeps out and dies.
This is the punishment God sets on sin.
The wicked cannot love.
[A groan comes from the DUKE's chamber.]
Ah! What is that?
Do you not hear? 'Twas nothing.
So I think That it is woman's mission by their love To save the souls of men: and loving her, My Lady, my white Beatrice, I begin To see a nobler and a holier vengeance In letting this man live, than doth reside In bloody deeds o' night, stabs in the dark, And young hands clutching at a palsied throat.
