Cornell University Library PR 4825.J255A8 Alfonso Petrucci, cardinal and consplrato 3 1924 013 488 535 The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013488535 ALFONSO PETRUCCI ALFONSO PETRUCCI CARDINAL AND CONSPIRATOR AN HISTORICAL TRAGEDY IN FIVE ACTS ROBERT C. J_ENKINS, M.A. RECTOR OF I.\-MlNt:E, HON. CANON Oh CANTP:HI{rKY LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., i, PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1SS2 {T/ie rights i>/ iramlaiimt and 0/ rep-odiicHon a-re reserved.) TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARL GRANVILLE, K.G., LOKD WARDEN OF THE CINQUE PORTS, SECRETARY OF STATE FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS, ETC., ETC., THIS SKETCH OF THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THE DIVIDED ITALY OF THE PAST AND THE' UNITED ITALY OF THE PRESENT IS INSCRIBED WITH AFFECTIONATE RESPECT. TO THE READER. The history of the Petrucci Conspiracy fills one of the saddest pages in the annals of the Roman Pontificate. It is described by Guicciardini in his thirteenth book, and in the biographies of Alfonso Petrucci, given by Palatius (Fasti Cardinaliuni) and by Eggs, in his Purpura Doda. The life of Leo X. which they give respectively in their " Gesta Pontif. Romanorum " and the " Pontijidum Doctum " throws further light upon the melanchoty narrative. The incidents of the conspiracy have been closely followed, the characters of Laodamia Petrucci and Violante Riario * being the only non-historic ones. They are designed to represent the spirit of the re- generated Italy of the present as contrasted with the demoralized Italy of the past. * Laodamia was a name not unusual in the Patrician families of Tuscany. The sister of Pius II. was so named. Violante was the name of the mother of Riario. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Pope Leo X. {at first, the Cardinal de' Medici). Cardinal Riario, -\ Cardinal Soderini, > involved in the conspiracy. Cardinal Saulio, ) Pandolfo Petrucci, Lord of Siena. Borghese, "I , . .„ . > his sons. Alfonso (Cardinal),] Raffaello Petrucci, Brother of Pandolfo. RiNALDO Vwrre-VCCl {Father of Laodamia), Auditor of the Rota. The Archbishop of Siena. Cardinal Cornelio, a friend of Alfonso. Antonio, Secretary of Alfonso Petrucci. The Secretary of the city of Siena. Orlando, a Moor, formerly in the service of Pandolfo. Laodamia Petrucci, Daughter of Rinaldo, engaged to Alfonso. ViOLANTE Riario, Niece of Cardinal Riario, engaged to Borghese. The Donna Maddalena, Sister of Leo X. Citizens, Guards, etc. The Scene alternates between the Palace of the Petrucci in Siena * and the Palace of the Vatican. * The Palace of the Petrucci in Siena is said to have been founded in 1503 ; the promotion of Alfonso to the Cardinalate was in 1510. ALFONSO PETRUCCI. ACT I. Scene I. — Siena. An Apartment in the Petrucci Palace PANDOLro Petrucci and Cardinal Riario. Pand. Lord Cardinal, thou hast been faithful found Among the faithless. In that Court where reign Intrigue and perfidy, yea, shameless guilt And base forgetfulness of favours given And faith reposed, thou still hast been the friend True to my house and me ; and in this hour Of my great need, the greatest and the last, I seek thine aid anew. Ria. What means my lord ? And how can I, well stricken now in years. Feeble and faint, assist so great a prince ? Pand. Thou know'st too well the history of my house — How first it rose in pride of opulence And lust of power o'er Siena's citizens, Who hailed me as their father and their lord. 2 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act I 'Twas an inheritance that kings might envy, That self-built throne — that tree of strength I planted. Alas ! the storm hath scattered to the winds The hopes that erst like spring-tide leaves had clothed My life ; and now the withered stem reveals Its fourscore winters and their scathing rents, And spring returns no more ! Ria. And yet thine house, While thou canst count such branches on thy stem As Don Borghese and Alfonso, both Of princely form and minds of grandest mould. Might well defy the storms that shake the tree, And only break the sapling. Pand. Would thy words Were true as is thine heart ! Alas ! Borghese Affianced to thy niece, the fair Violante, Seems to thine eye as once he seemed to mine. Worthy to fill the, place my death must soon Make void. Ria. And doth thine heart proclaim him now Unworthy thee — unworthy Violante ? Pand. I meant not that. Right well I know that all The warlike gifts, the high deserts which marked Our race for glory, are in him renewed ; Yet the fierce feud which gives dread prophecy Of fratricidal guilt, of hands imbrued In blood (O God !) from common sire derived. Fills my last days with dreams of hideous guilt. And my long nights with sleeplessness. Ria. Thy fears How can I fail to share ? Our souls, alas ! In earlier day have drunk the maddening draught Of wild revenge, and find, in vain remorse. Scene I.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 3 Its bitter after-taste ; and now we see The poisoned cup passed on to those we love, To drain even to the dregs — dread recompense Of guilt yet unatoned.* Pand. Oh ! mind me not Of that foul deed ; I dare not scan the past, When the grim future rises to appal me. I know, ere yet from this spent frame the breath Of life shall have gone forth, the younger son Will claim the lordship which of right devolves Upon the elder. Bold in plan and speech, Fluent, persuasive, and unscrupulous In all his course, Alfonso will appeal To senate and to townsmen, bought and bribed By promise fair of freedom, or by gold. To give Borghese's heritage to him. Could we but turn the stream of his ambition Into some other channel — find some fount Where he might slake the thirst for rule which burns Within his soul 1 Ria. Yet where could such be found Save in some foreign Court, some warlike post Where he might better even than here fulfil His deadly hate — invoke some mightier power Against Borghese's rule — with fire and sword Bring desolation to these fruitful plains Whose wealth he might not share ? Pand. Such post would but * Riario was involved in the conspiracy of the Pazzi against tlie Medici, and Petrucci had caused the death of his father-in-law, Niccolo Borghese (see Guicciardini, "Hist, d'ltalia," c. iv.), and is also believed to have caused, by poison, the death of Pope Pius III. ("Eggs. Pontif. Doct.," p. 681). 4 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act I Make the dread feud more fatal and inveterate. Yet one resource is left. His soul's ambition Needs to be fed — yea, sated — till it feels No hunger save the hunger of despair That nought remains to conquer. At the Court Of Rome, amid the princely throng that fills The stately Vatican, he yet may save A proud name from dishonour, and a race Born to command from baser destiny. Ria. And would you claim for him that cruel lot, Which turns even friends to foes, and princes born To cringing menials — a Cardinal's ? Is Rome more safe than Siena? Are no hands Uplifted there to murder ? Fand. Yet what hand Can part the brothers who may even this hour Be stained with fratricide, save that which writes Alfonso Cardinal — lifts up his soul To higher life, his life to higher aims ? Oh, for her sake who soon will be the bride Of him for whom I plead, I do entreat thee To lay before his Holiness my prayer. Disclose the fearful past — the future traced In its grim light — and claim a father's love For him who else may lose a father's name. And write in anguish on his opening grave That he dies childless. Ria. But Laodamia ! Will she resign him ? will he heed the voice Even of the Pontiff, if his highest gift Should sever him from her whose very soul Hath linked its destiny of love with his ? Pand. I cannot turn aside to gaze on those SoBNE II.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 5 Who may be near our path but must not cross it. Alfonso, if he claim the higher life, May well persuade the heart that claimed his love To dedicate its bridal thoughts to heaven ; And if he fail, her sire must be constrained, By bribe of place or fear of our displeasure. To make our cause his own. Be this my part, And thine our suit at Rome. Ria. My task is light To thine, and shall be well fulfilled. This hour I haste to Rome, and at the Pontiff's feet Will raise thy prayer and mine. Pand. 'Tis well ; I thank thee. Thy love hath never failed me, and must now Be doubly proved for Violante's sake. Farewell ! God speed thy .prayer ! Scene II. — An apartment in the Petrucci Palace in Siena. Violante ; Laodamia. • Viol. Our lives are one long mystery of grief ; A wayward fate at once unites and severs Hearts that in faith are one. Laod. And yet those hearts Are schooled by this stern destiny to rise To higher life. 'Tis ours to bind in one Two kindred hearts, united once, now rent Through mutual hate, still deepening, till the chasm Of fratricidal guilt shall close on them. To be their common tomb. Oh, could we rise Equal to such a work ! Viol. Yet have we striven 6 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act I. And toiled the lifelong day, as labourers sent In earliest dawn to this sad labour-field ; But we have prayed and watched and toiled in vain. Each plea of love still makes their hatred deeper, And fiercer their disdain. Laod. Thy words are true ; Yet what a circlet of uniting love. But for one failing link, our souls might weld ! We love as sisters. Don Borghese's love \\'ith thine is linked, and with Alfonso's mine. But then the strongest link, the closest bond, Is lost. In severance dread the brothers stand, And the bright chain falls down on either side. Viol. Yet love, whose spell is stronger even than death, May forge that missing link. It may be that One work, one prayer is wanting ; * that one loss May forfeit all our gain. We may not faint While labouring for a heavenly crown like this. Laod. Thou hast well said. The missing link may fail Even through that missing prayer. But hark ! the sounds Of martial step, of voices pitched, methinks, To height of altercation. Let us fall Back to the distance, where yon dim recess May hide us both. \They retire to the background. Enter Borghese and Alfonso. Alf. Whence this new frenzy ? Why these dagger looks, Which like a papal curse glance forth to slay Body and soul together ? * " Havendo (Dio) determinate il niimero delle domande per le quali la vuole concedere, una clie sene lasci, non siamo esauditi." — S. Caterina de' Ricci. S.CENE II.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI, J Borg. Vile supplanter ! Thou smooth-faced Jacob, ready aye to steal The birthright and the blessing ! Thinkest thou That I have not unearthed thee ? brought to light Thy base intrigues — thy bribes — thy canvassings Of venal senators ? ■^if- Thou dost misjudge me. What have I got to bribe with ? What my means To force or to persuade ? Thy hand hath snatched From the last childhood of our aged sire All that he had to give. Borg. False tongue, thou liest. All that I have he gave me as his heir ; All that I hope for, but for thine intrigues, Must soon be mine. Alf. Such chance may Heaven forfend ! Is not all Siena wearied with thy guilt ? Hearest thou no curses muttered deep — no threats Of vengeance struggling madly into life ? And wouldst thou turn on me the tide of wrath Which surges on and must engulf thee yet ? Oh, worthy follower of the accursed Pazzi, Twice hath thine hand been raised, like theirs, to shed The blood of innocence. * Behold these scars, And dare, if dare thou canst, to deepen them. [ Uncovers his neck. Borg. Sayst thou this hand twice sought thy life ? Then draw. ♦ " A Burghesio fratre suo ferro tentatus vulneris cicatrices ser- vavit in gutture usque ad sepulcrum " (" Palat. Fasti Card.," torn. i. p. 565). This attempt to take his brother's life is said to have been made twice (see Zedler, " Universal Lexicon," torn, xxvii. p. 1143). 8 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act T. May this third stroke be fatal. \They draw. Violante and Laodamia rush to the front and stand between them, each holding the other's hands. Laod. Thy guardian angel and the saints that plead For those they love have stayed thine hand. Alfonso ! Forbear, if still thou lovest me. If thy love Is turned to hate, oh, let thy dagger first Drink my heart's blood, ere yet a brother falls Beneath thine hand. Viol. Borghese 1 is the pledge Thou gavest me false ? Didst thou not promise me Never to bear that weapon in thy breast Which minded thee of guilt, and yet might tempt thee To deed of murder ? Cast it, cast it from thee. Live to repent, to love ; think of Alfonso But as the husband of thy kinswoman, The more than sister of thy Violante ; And through this path may thy first love return. Alas ! your looks are cold ! Borg. The sight of thee Hath chilled the fever-heat of wrath — disarmed Awhile my firm resolve. Viol. Say not awhile, — For ever. Come, embrace him. Laod. Smile, Alfonso. Look not so fearfully aside. Come near ; Embrace your brother. Let the cause of God Be for this once triumphant. It will be Your triumph, too \ a brighter crown than e'er Your sire hath worn, or Siena yet can give I \They embrace coldly, and retire on either side. Scene III.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. Scene III. — As before. Rinaldo Petrucci ; Laodamia. Rin. {embracing Laodamia). My daughter ! Laod. My sire, what brings thee hither ? Why should I Dread most the presence that I most should love ? Yet even the voices we most longed to hear Seem burdened now with prophecies of grief. Rin. Yet were it ill that loving voice should bear False prophecy, or hide our coming fate. The dangers that o'erhang our house and race Thou know'st too well, I need not count them now. Dark clouds, uprising from the distant past. Brood o'er the future, and ere long must burst In ruin o'er our heads. Laod. What means my sire ? Rin. The unnatural feud which rends our race in twain Must close its reign in blood, unless Laod. Oh, say — What means that word unless ? Explain — interpret. Rin. Unless thy hand avert the fatal shaft. Which else must pierce the souls of all we love. Laod. Oh, speak — what meanest thou? How can / avert A shaft I see not — know not whence it comes, Or where its stroke may fall ? Rin. Alfonso's life Is in thy hands ; Borghese's fate is linked With his, and ours with both. Laod. I pray you speak More plainly. Could I save Alfonso's life, 10 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act I Mine ow.n would be a willing sacrifice. I would yield all for him — save his dear love ! Rin. Yet that, and not thy life, must be the victim, The one peace-offering. Were his love for thee As pure as thine — Laod. Oh, doubt it not, my father ! Rin. Yet must I doubt it, while ambition reigns Supreme in all his life. Ambition, child, Is but a cruel stepmother to love. His heart is proud of thee. In thee he sees One worthy of himself ; yet only worthy Because thy mind, thy power, thy skill to win The world he seeks to gain, will all be his — His to supply the greed of his ambition, Not slake the thirst of love. Laod. Thou dost misjudge him. How canst thou know Alfonso as I know him, Who read his inmost thoughts ? Alas ! too well I read the tale of vengeance long suppressed, Of pride indomitable, high ambition ; And yet in every line a mystic truth O'errules the literal sense. That truth is love — ■ Love that presides o'er all his inmost thoughts ; Love that even now hath made him sheathe the dagger In bitter hatred drawn. Oh, loving father, Thou know'st but half his soul. Rin. Yet say, my daughter. Were he a murderer, could you love him still ? Laod. My love would save him from so dire a guilt. Rin. Yet if one only act of love could save, Say, wouldst thou dare to do it ? Laod. Cheerfully. Rin. And if that act cut off thy last fond hope, Scene III.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. n Even as the offering of the patriarch, And left thee lone in this world's wilderness Laod. Oh, whither wouldst thou lead my darkening steps ? I cannot follow thee. Rin. Suppose, then, that Alfonso, called to higher state of hfe. Were placed beyond the sphere of woman's love, Except such love as springs from sacred tie Of sister or of friend. Couldst thou resign The dearer name of wife and call thyself The sister — guardian of his higher life And heavenly destiny ? Laod. What higher life Were mine on earth than his unchanging love ? Heaven hath for me no higher gift than this. Rin. Yet hath it higher gift for him. Laod. What mean'st thou ? Rin. In Rome 'tis said that in the next promotion To the high dignity of Cardinal, Alfonso's name in foremost rank will stand, If this be so, wouldst thou surrender him — Renounce thy claim as his affianced one — • Consent to be his sister, friend, and guide ? Laod. Thou askest a hard thing ; for could I see him Raised like the Prophet to angelic state — Unlike that great successor who discerned His parting guide, and by that sight was raised To claim a yet more wondrous ministry, A doubled gift — mine eye would pale and fade, My mission close, my Ufe's work end for ever ! Rin. Yet were his life to fall beneath the stroke Of unmasked guilt or secret treachery, 12 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [AoT I As fall it must unless this deadly feud For ever cease — what good would thy life do thee ? Laod. Might not my love with gentlest hand arrest The arm of guilt ? Might not the tender words Of wife be as a spell to charm away The darkest thoughts of vengeance, plans of guilt ? May not this be my lot, and were it well That I should shrink from it ? Rin. I ask thee not To yield thy love, but rather to exalt it With his to higher state — to make it now The handmaid of his soul along that path Where all is peace. As prince of Holy Church, From that proud eminence he might look down On the wild fray that makes our Tuscan plains But an Aceldama, a field of blood ; Bind up the wounds of our loved Italy, Fallen among thieves, despoiled of all but life. Laod. Oh, could I read his future as thou read'st it. And feel that peace could ever reign where reigns Eternal warfare, and could reign through him, I well might pray that in the Court of Rome Alfonso's life might find a place of rest, My lifelong love a grave. Yet wherefore trust To rumours wild as this ? How know'st thou that The Pope designs to raise him to the purple ? Rin. Here in my hands I hold the papal brief Declaring him a Cardinal and commanding His presence at the Court. Laod. And deem'st thou then That he will heed such mandate? And can I Resign him if he claims my pledged word ? His hand, not mine, must loose the sacred bond Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 13 Which his true love hath wrought — alone deprive My trembling heart of its last earthly joy, To be but loved by him. Rin. But I must haste To bear to him this mandate. Fear not, child, That I shall influence, I persuade, who mourn This fatal destiny — whose hopes of bliss For my last years were all built up with thine. And see them fallen together ! Fare thee well ! Scene IV. — Another apartment in the same palace. Alf. {alone ; sitting before a table, a letter, with the papal seal attached, in his hand). Oh that this brief were but a letter sent To tell me of her love — to mind me of The glance that made these dreary scenes so bright, The vows whose echoes on mine ear return. Like music heard in dreams ! Oh that it came To tell me that she loves me still ! Yet that Would need no written proof; for loving hearts Speak an unwritten tongue. (Pauses and looks at the brief in deep thought). I seem to read The mystery now, Borghese's hand hath moved My sire's ; my sire's the Pope's. Can this be so ? Yet can it hardly be. For were it so. They know too well that I would fling it back As though it came from some plague-stricken spot. And what is Rome but that ? Yet let me pause. How can I bear to bring before her eye This page, the death-warrant of her true life, 14 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act I. The death-stroke of our love ? Oh, I should seem Like heathen monster dragging forth to death The Christian martyr whose last prayer was raised For her fell murderer. Such piteous sight Might even in savage breast inspire the breath Of love, or fan the flame of late remorse. — Laodamia, would I ne'er had loved. Or loving, had to peasant's life been born. Whose healthy toil builds up the day in bliss And crowns the night with rest ; whose love's bright path Is never crossed by proud ambitions tread ; Whose heart the fear of poisoned shaft or cup Can never enter ! But my soul is lost. I dare not gaze upon the past ; the future Rises before me, bathes my soul in light, The glorious baptism of a higher life. \Pauses. Prince of the Church, I plant my foot upon The first proud step of my ambition's throne. Armed with the power which that firm vantage-ground Will give, and aided by the Sovereign Pontiff, Siena will fall beneath my sway ; Borghese Own me his lord — yea, crave his life of me. Whose death his treacherous hand hath twice essayed. Then, as a sister, though no more a spouse, Laodamia shall my glory share. And the bright vision of my early love Rise up before me as the form inspired Of Beatrice filled the heavenly dream Of Alighieri. — But even now she comes ! Beat low my heart, nor let my stifled breath Betray the fear, the love that strive to gain The mastery of my soul ! Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 15 Enter Laodamia. Cousin and sister ! Laod. Alfonso, hast thou seen my sire — received The brief which from the sacred Chancery He bears thee ? Alf. Would that it had never come ! Or else that I could read it as the trick Of some poor trifler, skilled to counterfeit The style of Rome. Laod. Oh that it were but that ! Then might we smile at it, amused to think Of that new part thou hast been called to fill In life's wild drama. But our time is short ; We may not waste in converse light these moments Fraught with strange message both to thee and me. To me and thee ! for still our lives are one. Thy griefs, thy joys, are mine ; thy glory still My morning-star, mine evening-star thy love ! Alf. And hast thou schooled thine he irt, Laodamia, So soon to this dread lesson ? Mine would seem Of sterner mould, and harder far to bend. Laod. The broken spirit hath no need to bend, The dead to die again ; yet in the faith That this high destiny will raise thy soul To higher state, I rise from this deep grave Of sorrow. Why should I weigh down thy life With my poor love ? Alf. I pray thee to forbear — If thou wouldst have me barter thus for glory The treasure of thy love, Oh, hide from me The fearful cost ! Speak never of that gift, Or let me claim it still ! i6 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Aot I Laod. _ It still is thine, And I must speak of it that it may yet Inspire thy life — no more an earthly flame, But kindled, like the vestal fire of old, tey purest faith, to be extinguished never. . Hear me, then, as with prophet-voice I utter The last, last charge of this o'erburdened heart. And let it fire thy soul ! Alf. Oh, tyranny Of love, still conquering even when yielding up Its very life, how can I hear thee not ? How bear to hear thee ? But thou still must reign. Now speak. Laod. Alfonso, God hath called thy soul To do great work for Him, for Italy, For our loved country, bleeding with the wounds Of centuries of wrong. Rome, Florence, Siena, What are they all but nests of high-born pirates Who for mere power would build their houses on Their country's ruin — write their names in blood, Then found a dynasty ? Oh, is not this The history of our race — the secret spring Of that dark feud which soon may close its page With tale of fratricide ? Was it not this That armed the Pazzi 'gainst the Medici, When the great Julian fell beneath the stroke Of treason, in the very sanctuary ? 'Twas then Lorenzo, o'er his brother's grave. Spake thus to the full heart of Italy : "They whom the law for public wrong pursues Or private guilt, take refuge in the Church Secure from danger. What to them gives life. To us brings death. Where parricides are safe Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 17 The Medici find only murderers." * \Paiisei. And they would shelter thee where Julian fell, From thy twice-threatened death ! and deem my love, My prayers, my tears, a frailer sanctuary Than Rome — poor refuge for true hearts like thine. Is there no dagger there ? no hand to wield it ? No church, convenient as the Reparata ? Was not the Pazzi's vengeance armed from thence ? Did not the Pope, Riario, Salviati,f Wing the dread message and direct the blow ? Yet be it so ; weapons of death no more May be thy safe-guards. Faith, love, words of peace. Must be thy daggers now ! (Pauses in deep etnotion, ami proceeds!) Yet hear me further. Thou wilt be the youngest of the Sacred College, Yet for that cause the strongest. Life with them Is ebbing fast away ; with thee its tide Comes in with the unreined energy of youth. Theirs is the frothy surf — poor legacy Of tempests, scattering into clouds of foam The troubled billows of their lives of guilt. O'er which thy life, like wave seen far behind. Shall climb like crest of glory. Yet beware — * " Sogliono rifuggire nelle chiese tutti quelle, clie per pubblica o grivata cagione sono perseguitati. Adunque da clii gli altri sono difesi, noi siamo morti ; dove i parricidi e gli assassini sono sicuri, i Medici trovarono gli ucciditori loro" (Machiavelli, " Storia Fiorent.," 1. viii.) t " Volleno (i Pazzi) avanti alia partita parlasse al Pontefice (Sisto IV.) il quale fece tutte quelle offerte potette maggiori in beneficio dell' impresa " ("La congiura de' Pazzi) (Machiavelli, "Hist.," li. viii.). For his complicity in the conspiracy, Riario was imprisoned, and the Archbishop Salviati, as well as his two brothers, executed. C 1 8 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act I Their lives were once as thine ; thine yet may be Dispersed in foam, in quicksands lost like theirs. — Yet one word more. Alfonso, I have heard thee Say ofttimes, " May the younger live and flourish ! " What means that doubtful word ? Is it that the young May live the life of those who went before. And flourish as they flourished ? Heaven avert So dire a curse from thee, from Italy, From all who share our love ! Oh, rather claim A nobler life — heal wisely ; bind in one The mangled frame of our dear country, torn As Orpheus was of old, rent limb from limb. And scattered o'er the wilderness of life ! Oh, gather from their long captivity The outcasts of our race — our tribes dispersed In heart, in life, in all but name and place. Till to the question, *' Will ye yet be free, Be one in glory as in birth and race ? " The answer shall go forth from thousand tongues And tens of thousands, " Yes, we will be one In nation as in tongue— one 'neath the rule Of that great monarch, whosoe'er he be. Whom God shall raise among our sons to crown Our union, and our freedom to restore." We may not live to hear that rapturous cry. Yet may we haste its utterance. Oh, be this Thy work, be this thy ministry ! Alf. I feared Thy words, Laodamia, lest their burden Should bear me down with memories of a love Which fears to live, yet fears still more to die. But thou hast touched a chord in which our hearts Beat in strange unison. Oh, that my soul Scene IV.] 4LF0NS0 PETRUCCI. jg Could learn from thine to sacrifice its love On the high altar of our country's wrongs ! Yet words like these do mind me of my loss, And rather bind on me an earthly yoke, Than raise my soul to heaven. An angel's voice Bids me to rise, yet at that angel's feet I sink, unnerved and powerless. Even now My earlier love returns. How dare I climb To this proud height unless my lifelong guide Companions me ? Zaod. Yet must thou rise to fill A place of glory in our country's annals, A glory Siena's lordship could not yield. Nor my poor love bestow. I may not follow. Yet from my lowly path in this dim world My soul shall rise to thee, mine eyes shall gaze. Yea, till they fail with looking up to thee — To heaven and thee ; for still my heaven art thou ! And thou wilt think of me with higher love. Such love as angels bear to us who tread This lower world ; yea, think of me as one Who gave thee this high counsel— all, all else Forget for ever ; deem it ne'er has been, Thy wrongs, thy grief — A//. — But never yet my love-! END OF ACT I. ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act 31. ACT II. Scene l.—JRome. The apartments of Rinaldo m the Vatican. An oratory with altar and n'licifix,^ Laodamia kneeling before it. Laod. I have no more to give — no second life, No higher love ; my lifelong passionday Hath brought no Easter-tide. From morn to morn I bear my cross, as though the death-strewn path To Calvary for me might never end. Oh that this heart in its dread loneliness Could feel that all "is finished " — fear and doubt. And life and love — the tale of grief all told ! Yet for a father's sake, a sister's love Viol, (entering unobserved). Laodamia ! Laod. Oh, why hast thou broken My dream of misery ? Why wake me up To prove it is not all a dream ? For thee I made that sacrifice : for him — for thee. Was the frail censer of this heart unhallowed, That Heaven rejects it still ? Viol. My sister, say, What meanest thou ? Laod. Alfonso's hate still burns. The purple yet may bear the stain of blood ; My offering yet be fruitless. Scene I.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 2t Viol. Yet for me Was that peace-offering made. Oh that thy love Had never made it — that it still could live To mould Alfonso's life ! Alas ! the feud Made now inveterate through the friendship formed With the crafty Cardinal de' Medici, Hath severed him from thee as from Borghese — From all his house, and mine, alas ! still dimmed By the dread memories of that day of guilt When the great Julian fell. Thou know'st the hate Which fires my uncle 'gainst the Medici ; How hardly he escaped the avenging blow When the fierce Pazzi sowed that seed of blood. Whose harvest we have reaped in our sad lives. Yet now Alfonso, mindless of the laws Of Holy Church, and of the oath he took As Cardinal, molests the electors' ears With base solicitations, and their souls Corrupts with promises of place and power, If they but raise the foe of all his race To fill the papal throne. Rin. {entering in an excited state). There is a fearful tumult in the piazza. Loud curses load the memory of Julius. His buried life is writ in deeds of blood ; His memory lives in curses, loudly uttered By those his fierce ambition hath bereaved Of husbands, sons, and brothers — fruitless seed ! Yea, rather, rich with harvest of despair. Our Italy, which through a thousand wounds Poured out her life blood to cement his throne. Now sinks exhausted, prostrate at the feet Of tj'rants whose sole power is in her weakness, 23 ALFONSO PETRUCCl. ■ [Act II. Whose only gain her loss.* But hark ! the crowd Surges beneath us j let us gaze on it From yonder balcony. \A curtain is withdrawn, disclosing an ope7i balcony overlooking the great courtyard of the Vatican, RiNALDO, with Laodamia and Violante, fall back upon it. Rin. See this wild scene ! look yonder ! Who is that Appearing from the portals of the conclave And hasting to the front ? It is Alfonso ! With wild excitement he hath thrust aside The officers appointed to proclaim The future Pontiff. Hear you not his voice ? Alf, {from the opposite balcony). The Medici is Pope \ Lorenzo's son, Great-grandson of the noble Cosimo ! Pope by a vote unanimous ! Long live The young ! " Vivant vigeantque juniores 1 " f Jiin. {coming forward). These fifty years I have been. Prothonotary Of the Holy See, yet never saw I such A scene as this — the sacred suffrage cast Like thing profane upon the populace, And trampled under foot. Oh, shame and grief ! Alfonso, Cardinal, sworn to secrecy. Claiming the guidance of the Holy Ghost For this dread work, yet standing forth as prince * Guicciardini observes that Julius's memory "was honoured most' "by those who held it to be more the duty of the Popes to increase the authority of the Apostolic See by warfare and the blood of Chris- tians, than to promote it by the example of a good life " (1. xi. ), t Leo X. was thirty-seven years old, Petrucci was twenty-six, in the year 1513. For the description of this scene, see Palatius in his. life of Leo X. gdENE I.] ALFONSO PETRUCCi. 23 Of Holy Church proclaiming to the world The lust of power and place, the worship of A name which soon may shroud in infamy The dying glories of his house and race ! Alf. (entering and seeing only Laodamia). Laodamia ! The game is won. The Medici hath triumphed ; Siena may yet be mine ! Ein. Are these the words Of priest, of bishop,* prince of Holy Church ? — Oh, wreck of that high soul which once aspired To deeds that would have made thy name immortal. Now sunk in guilt and shame, by lust of power Degraded, and with base corruption stained ! Alf. Rinaldo, this from thee ? Were it not that thou Might'st once have been my sire, and still dost bear That name for this dear object of my love, This arm had laid thee at the feet of him Thy words have wronged, of him who scorns thy trade. Go preach thy drivelling law pontifical To other ears than mine. Laod. Alfonso, stay Thy guilty wrath, and though I scorn to plead The love thou barest me once, I yet would claim Thy reverence for the hoary locks that crown A father's brow, a worthier diadem Than that which thy insatiate pride would snatch Even at Pandolfo's grave. Alf. Laodamia, I have been wild and ra,sh, and though thy speech Pierces my heart — and oh, that heart still loves, And still can feel this shaft of love's reproach^ Forgive me ! * Alfonso Petrucci had been made Bishop of Saona. 24 ALFONSO PBTRUCCI. [Act IT. Laod. Would that on Borghese's heart That pitying glance could fall as now on mine ! That the bright day when all our race was one Might dawn on us again ! that we might never Say with La Pia, " Siena gave us life, But the Maremma of revenge and hate Unmade what God had wrought."* Thou yet mayst haste That day's glad advent hour, whose morn would spread A firmament of peace o'er all our lives. Forgive Borghese's wrongs, and make thyself Invincible through love, in mercy's realm A conqueror and a prince. Alf. I was not born ■ For saintly crown. The glory that encircles The martyr's brow accords not with the hat Of Cardinal, called to rule and not to suffer. Yet if my soul could change, and love could reign In every thought, to thine importunate prayers, Not to my will, the heavenly work were due. \_Pauses. — Oh, guardian angel of this life of guilt, Could I but rise with thee — with thee look down Upon this lower world ! Alas, my soul Cleaveth unto the dust,f and yet would cling Even as the dust unto the feet of her Whose love shall be my life's last minister. Rinaldo, give me but thy hand, thy blessing ; * ' ' Ricorditi di me che son la Pia, Siena mi ft, disfece mi Maremma. ' Dante, Purg., v. 133. f " Adhasit faviinento anima mca.'' " Sentii dir lor con si alti sospieri Che la parola appena s' intendea." Dante, Purg., u. xix. -u. 73. SoEKE II.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. Violante, let me learn in loving thee To love the brother who hath wronged me most, Who twice essayed my life. Enter a Messenger. But who is this Disturber of our privacy ? What message Bearest thou from the Conclave ? Mess. Eminence, The Holy Father, Pontiff now elect, Desires thy presence and thine homage claims To-morrow in the hall of the Consistory. Alf. I will obey the call. Laod. Oh, arm thyself With high restraint ; let no unwonted joy. Like that which fired thee first, betray thee now. Be worthy of thy name, and of thy place In this great household. Let the Medici See that the race they hate is worthy yet To reign in Rome, as it hath reigned in Siena. Scene II. — The Pope'' s private apartments in the Vatican. Leo X. j Raffaello Petrucci. Raffaello is read- ing to the Pope the Annals of Florence. Leo X. What wondrous words ! as though the Seraph's hand Had touched his lips with fire from off the altar, Even as the Prophet's. Read me them again. Raff, (reads). " Think, mighty citizens, to what dread straits An evil fortune hath led on our house, 26 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act It When even 'midst friends and kindred, yea, and in The Church itself, our life was not secure." * Leo X. Even of ourselves how true ! This great Basilica, The heart and centre of our Christendom, May be to me as the Church of the Reparata Was to my father — an Aceldama ! I know that I am walking o'er the graves Of murdered Pontiffs, princes of the Church, Actors or victims in the fatal deeds Which fill these halls with memories of the slain By sword, by poison, or by base intrigue,! "Whose souls cry out from 'neath our altar-stones, " How long, O God, how long?" Nor faith, nor love, Nor conscious innocence can here find place. Yet is our trust in God. Raff. That vantage-ground Is thine alone, for none trusts in Him here. Leo X. How can they, when the spirit of the Pazzi Lives in their hearts, and fires their frenzied eye ! Look at the time-worn Cardinal Riario, Friend and accomplice of that dread design ; Did not the Pope his uncle, and his friend. The tyrant Julius, wage incessant war Against our house — invoke the emperor's arms To crush the rising liberties of Florence ? Read me Lorenzo's words. * " Considerate, niagnifici Cittadini, dove la cattiva fortuna aveva condotta la casa nostra, che fra gli amici, fra i parenti, nella chiesa non era sicura " (Machiavelli, ut mprh], t Leo himself is believed to have been poisoned (Eggs, Pontijicium Docitwi, pag. 706). Julius II. died of grief and vexation at his political reverses. Pius III. is supposed to have been poisoned at the instance of Pandolfo Petrucci. Alexander VI. was poisoned in his ovi'n attempt to poison the richer Cardinals. Scene U.] ALFONSO PETRUCC'l. 27 Raff, {reads) " Why should they form Alliance with the Pope ; league with the King Of Naples 'gainst the sacred liberties Of this republic ? Wherefore break the long Calm peace of Italy ? " * Leo X. One only link Fails in this chain of treason ! They have got No Julius on this throne. No Sixtus builds His treacherous plans against- our house. Yet still The Kings of France and Naples, yea, the cities Free (as they terrtt them) of our Italy, For ever prone to shed Italian blood. Are leagued against us. Even thy native Siena, Scene of our exile, whence we watched the sun Rise upon Florence, make her loveliness More lovely, while it gilded all her domes. As though the heaven itself had blushed to see Its glories still surpassed — even Siena now, Beneath Pandolfo's rule, Borghese's hate. Affianced as he is to a Riario, Warns us of hidden danger. JRaffi Thou hast touched A chord of grief to which my heart responds In concord of an anguish deeper still. Already bent in weariness of death, Pandolfo lies, and prays that his spent life May pass away to man's eternal rest, Ere he beholds his son a fratricide- Era the third stroke of fierce Borghese's knife Pierces the breast of him he loves the most, * ."Perchfe far lega con il Papa, e con il Re contio alia liberta di questa Repubblica? perche rompere la lunga pace d' Ilalia?" (Machiavelli, nt supra). 28 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act II. Yet dreads to see. Alfonso soon will claim The licence of your Holiness to leave Your Court for a brief season, to attend The death-bed of his sire. Oh, grant it not ! Reasons of state, and perils scarce foreseen By keenest eye, forbid such journey now. If once let loose, like tameless beasts of prey. The brothers soon would join in fearful onslaught. And Siena rise in wild revolt to claim Her ancient freedom. Leo X. I will heed thy words Of wisdom, prudent aye, and opportune, And stand forearmed against the treacherous plea Of Don Alfonso. But our time is short. The homage hour, with bitter memories fraught And shrouded in dark prophecies of guilt, Approaches. Would that it brought open war, Instead of utterance of unfelt devotion ; Then should I welcome it. Mess. Most Holy Father, The Sacred College waits with reverence meet For the high presence of your Holiness. Leo X. We are prepared ; lead on. \Exe2int. ■Scene III.^ — Apartments of Riario in the Vatican. Cardinal Riario, Violante, afterwards Borghese. Viol. My uncle, thou art pale. This homage-day Hath been too long for thee. Thy breath seems short ; Now rest thee, nor attempt too soon to tell The tale of this day's work. liia. Loved Violante, Scene III.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 29 The music of thy voice brings back my soul Into sweet concord with that peaceful life, Which, through my downward years of guilt and grief, Hath run like placid stream through dark ravine, Luring the sunbeam which the towering crags Lose in their deep recesses, and reflecting The rays that should have lighted first on them. But is Borghese here ? I fain would tell My weary tale but once. Viol. Even now he comes. Enter Borghese. Ria. The homage of this day bodes ill to all Who bear our name. Attended by Raffaello The Pontiff entered the Consistory ; With proud sardonic smile he gazed around And muttered words of welcome. When I knelt Before him, with brief speech assuring him Of tried fidelity, with bitter smile He said, " We do accept this tribute new Of the good faith of the Riarii To us and all our house." I know not what I spake, but what I thought is fresh as when It flashed as lightning through my fevered brain. It was — I dared not utter it — the wish That when the Pazzi struck the uncle down. The sire had fallen as well, — that all the race Had perished on that day. Viol. The Lord absolve thee From such dark thought of guilt. But oh, proceed. What said the Pontiff" more ? Ria. The homages 30 ALFONSO PETRUCCI, [Act II Which followed gave worse omen. Soderini Implored the Pope to aid his exiled brother And order his return to Florence. Vain His suit ; the Pontiff coldly turned away ! Then proudly rose the Cardinal, his kinsman, And muttered words of ill-concealed revenge. Viol. It bodes us ill, my uncle ; but speak on. Ria. After some speechless greetings, whispered low By men who seemed to tremble l^st their voice Should echo the dread words their ears had heard And their faint hearts affirmed, yet dared not speak, Alfonso knelt before the Pope, and sought His licence to retire awhile to Siena And tend his dying sire. Viol. And did the Pope Grant his untimely prayer ? Ria. With firmer tone Than yet had marked his speech, the Pope replied, " It may not be. Reasons of state require Thy presence now with us, and Siena needs Rest from the weary conflict of her sons. Thy sire a peaceful death." 'Twas then Alfonso Cast on the Pope so fierce a glance, it seemed As though the steel he bears beneath his cloak Had flashed from out his eyes. What words he spake I heard not. But I saw the Pope turn round To Don Raffaello and thus speak aside ; " I do mislike his words ; they seem to me To savour of the treason of the Pazzi. Didst ever hear such tones of proud disdain Uttered to Sovereign Pontiff? " Borg. Would that he Would turn upon the hated Medici Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 31 The wrath that once was fiercely turned on us ! Dishonoured love begets inveterate hate ; Inveterate hate, revenge. Then other hands Would do my work — the third stroke better aimed Prove fatal. Viol. Oh, forbear ) Forgive, kind Heaven, That murderous thought ! Alas ! our very prayers Are turned to imprecations, and our blessings Yield us but curses ; yea, our bitter lives Do poison all we love ! Is there no branch Of healing we might cast into the waters Of this dread strife, to sweeten and to bless ? Ria. There is the blessed cross ! but we have lost That holy birthright, and its blessing now Hath passed from us for ever ! Scene IV. — An apartment in the Vatican. Alfonso ; SoDERiNi; Saulio. Alf, 'Twas but the difference of age and youth, Yoimg and old Italy, that severed us ; But now the consciousness of common wrong, The thirst for common vengeance, makes us one. Sau. Said I not that thy prayer would turn again To thine own bosom — to the Pope fulfilled In blessing ; to thyself, to us, a curse ! The young still flourishes, but not in thee — Still lives, but not for thee, an4 thou art cast On us the aged, as a wave-worn wreck Upon a desert coast. In Leo's soul Age finds no reverence, youth no sympathy. We have a merchant Pope ; mean hucksterer 33 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IL For place and power, even as his sire and grandsire, Who dazzled Florence with their sordid gifts, Till it was blinded to receive their yoke. Would that their golden fetters were not forged For us as for the Florentines. Alf. 'Tis ours To break them off us with a stronger hand Than that which laid the haughty Julian low. This dagger is not borne in vain ! [Produces a dagger. Sail, and Sod. {together). Great God ! Sod. Dost wear the weapon of a murderer ? Sau. The argument of the wild Trasteverini, The message of the Pazzi ? * Alf. Craven hearts ! And did not Brutus gain the patriot's crown By tempered steel like this — by mighty heart Tempered as was his steel ? yea, sharpened, too, With wrongs and insults lighter far than those Which give their edge to this ! Sod. Insensate boy ! Thine untrained youth, which with importunate zeal Did raise the Medici to this great throne From which his pride hath spurned thee, now would -crown His recreant soul with martyrdom, and clothe Thine own with infamy ; yea, give a saint To that detested house, and add to thine A murderer. Alf. I would the leach who treats The Pontiff for some ailment, could but mix * Two of that great family, even in earlier days, had been involved in murders — Rinier Pazzi and Camicion de' Pazzi, both placed by Dante in his " Inferno" (cant, xii. 137, and xxxii. 68). Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 33 His soothing draught with skill — some potent drug Distil in greater strength, some pharmacy In over-dose dispense, perchance of purpose, Or, haply, by mistake. Sau. Forbear, forbear ! We dare not hear such speech. Unsay thy words. Or teach us to forget them. Alf. Wipe them out From your weak memories ; suffer not a word, A whisper from your lips, a troubled look, The mystery of my vengeance to reveal. Remember Julian's fate, the Pazzi's dagger. The countless paths which in these silent walls Have led to fearful death ! \_Exit. Sau. How fierce his look ! A frenzy of despair distorts his soul. Dare we be silent ? Sod. Yet how dare we speak ! To hide within our breasts the fearful secret. Or to reveal it, both were certain death ! Seek we the prudent counsel of Riario, Skilled in the windings of that maze of guilt In which our lives are cast — each treacherous turn. Each hidden pitfall. But the time is short ; Haste we to meet him ere the ripening plot Bears fruits of poison both for thee and me. Sau. Thy speech is wise : we dare not waste an hour. We have heard more than we can dare conceal, Yet how reveal it ? [Exeunt. END OF ACT II. 34 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act III. ACT III. Scene I. — Siena. An apartment in the palace of the Petrucci. Pandolfo, lying on a couch, attended by BoRGHESE and Violante ; the Archbishop of Siena standing by him. Pan. {with eyes closed, starting convulsively). It is Alfonso's step ! take — take him from me. Violante, art thou near me ? Stand between them ; Beneath the mantle of the Cardinal He hides the dagger.* Viol. Father, 'tis not he ; Borghese only stands beside thee now. Pan. {still with closed eyes, and covering his face with his hand). A name of death ! He bore it once who bore A father's name for me ; t he bears it now * " Alphonsus . . . pugionem clam in cardinalium Conventu ssepius tulisse fertur." Palatius in " Vita Leonis X." t • " Diventato maggiore Pandolfo potette poco poi fare ammazzare il suocero che troppo ardilamente altraversava i suoi disegni " (Guicciardini, lix.). .Scene I.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI, 35 Who bears the blade which through Alfonso's heart Must pierce my own ! Oh, 'tis a name of death ! \Pauses, Say you Borghese only stands beside me ? It is not he. No, no, my Violante ; I see the blood-stain. Murder cannot sleep, Nor murdered rest ; in mortal sin he died. He fell unshriven ! Look, look ; he rises there ! He stands before me ! Now his sightless orbs Are turned upon me ! Niccolo Borghese, Thou art avenged ! ( Wakes up and continues, after a pause) Oh, good Lord Archbishop, Thou read'st as in the Prophet's mystic roll The secret will of Heaven. Say, can my sons Live to bear on the standard of our race When this poor hand is cold and stiff in death ? Archb. The dying hand should only grasp the cross; The standard which thy glorious ancestors Bare when they led the soldiers of the faith Up to the earthly Sion. They have gone Before thee to the City of the King, Vision of peace Pan. But of despair for me ! Archb. Oh, Lord Pandolfo, lift thine eyes to Heaven, prom whence cometh thy help. Look not behind. And stay not in the plain of these dread thoughts. Lest thou reach not the only city of refuge For sin-sick souls. Oh, let me give to thee The sweet Viaticum. Pan. I dare not lift My heart to Heaven. My soul in its last throes Cleaveth unto the dust, and — to — Alfonso 1 Poor boy, I loved him once ! 36 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act III. Borg. (aside to Violante). And loves him still ! Violante, is that writing sigrjed ? Viol. We sought To make him sign it, but in vain ! His hand Shook like a leaf in autumn. Borg. Yet on that Hangs all our future, Haste, and bring it hither. Viol. How can I leave him ? Borg. Then myself I go. Else will he die intestate. Even if sight Have failed, his mind is clear ; we yet might guide His trembling hand. Pan. {awaking to consciousness, but with his eyes still closed). Oh, is it my Alfonso ? Dear heart ! how like the angel form that bare him,- Who, when her love forgave me my great guilt, Prayed that my heart might never share her grief, Or doubt her faith ! Had she been with us still, To kindle with her love our cold spent lives, Borghese would have never sought thy life, My son, nor thou his birthright ! Archb. Oh, be calm. Alfonso is not here, and she thou lovedst Is now a Saint in heaven, and bids thee rise, That where thy treasure is, thy heart may be — With her ! Pan. With her? Oh, resurrection-life ! She lifts me from the grave, I rise, I live, Alfonso, is this death ? Alf. [enters suddenly). My father, speak ! Say — say I am forgiven. Pan. Can love say less ? Oh, God ! the death-sleep comes 1 \pies. .Scene I.] ALFONSO PEtRUCCI. 37 Borg. (re-entering with a parchment, but not seeing Alfonso). Doth he yet live ? Archb. Read you not on his face the Unes of death ? Oh, pray we for his rest Borg, Say you he's dead ? And this is yet unsigned ! Alf. My signature, Perchance, may give it force, ot I might write My name as witness that it ne'er was signed. Borg. Base felon, from thy papal chain escaped, How darest thou break the oath that binds thee to The Pope thyself hast made ! Archb, Dare you, rash youths, Even in this presence-chamber of grim death To bandy words of warfare, when the lips Of him whose blessing fell on both alike Are scarcely cold ? Viol. Oh, holy archbishop. Forgive their reckless guilt, and raise thy prayers For them — for him whose soul in purging flames Is now enwrapped. They know not what they say ; They dare not what they will ! Archb. Poor child, thine heart Is all too great for theirs. Of one, at least. Thou art the guardian angel. But a troop Of sad domestics comes — poor, simple souls ! — To do the last sad rites of watchful care For him they loved not in his day of life. Yet mourn in the night of death. Let us retire. 38 ALFONSO FETRUCCI. [Act III. Scene II. — The Senate House in Siena. The Secretary of the Republic, Borghese, Alfonso, Archbishop, Senators, and Citizens. Sec. The closing scene of Don Pandolfo's life Comes on us sadly, yet not suddenly. His day of doom was late ', the shock was ripe, Yet unprepared the ground for other seedtime. 'Tis for yourselves, most noble citizens Met in full senate, either to invite Another lord to rule ye, or resolve To cultivate the field of Siena's glory With the skilled hands which sowed in earlier day Seed of great deeds whose harvest others reaped. Making your sons mere labourers in the field Bought with their father's blood. Borg. Oh, faithful sons Of Siena, can ye hear such words unmoved With indignation, uttered o'er the grave Of him who was your friend, your counsellor ? The Crowd. Our tyrant and our curse ! Bo7-g. Say you your curse ? Him who with hollow hearts ye blessed in life Ye curse amid the awful calm of death — Dumb dogs, who dared not bark while yet he lived, And now, unmuzzled, bite ! The Crowd. The living dog Is better than dead lion. Borg. Have a care ; The lion's heart is here, and growling curs May wake it soon to life. Scene II.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 39 Alf. Loved citizens, If words like these fire not your souls with wrath Too deep for utterance, hear me not this day ; But if they teach you what my life hath been In the hard bondage of this fratricide. Who twice hath sought my life, then list to me While o'er my father's grave I plead my cause And claim my rights. Borg. What rights can younger son Claim o'er his elder ? The Crowd. Hear the Don Alfonso ) He hath been ever proved the people's friend. Alf. My utterance must be short. In yonder palace Death "reigns supreme. Beneath the dim horizon Which hedges in our life, my sire's hath fallen ; But as though highest Heaven had interposed To make his glorious countrymen his heirs. His wiU is yet unsigned. Whate'er that will Appointed is as void as though it ne'er Were writ. Borg. False traitor to thy name and race. Thou liest ! This sacred testament, declared In the presence of the Lord Archbishop's grace. Proclaims me as his heir. Sec. Produce the will. We have legal experts here whose skill might test it. Borgh. Perish your experts ! My great father's will. Writ by the sword, doth need the sword alone As its interpreter. Alf. That key to read Unwritten law is ours, not less than yours ; And we may claim it too. Sec. Most noble sirs, 40 ALFONSO PETRUCCJ. [Act III. Our Senate meets for higher work than this. 'Tis for this great assembly to determine If they will have another lord to rule In Siena, or will here resume and now The ill-deputed charge. Are any here For Don Borghese ? Any to propose The Lord Alfonso, Prince and Cardinal Of Holy Church? A voice. I claim your suffrages For the true heir, Borghese. Another. And I ask Your votes for Don Alfonso — tried and true. The people's friend. Archb. And I, as legate born Of the Apostolic See, propound the will Of the chief Pontiff, that the heritage Of Lord- Pandolfo, forfeit through the guilt And conflict of his sons, shall now devolve On Don Raffaello, brother of Pandolfo, Their natural uncle. His supreme decree I here produce, and in his name declare The Lord Raffaello lord and prince in Siena ! Sec. And I, this Senate's representative And secretary, set aside thy claim, Annul thy suit, pronounce it openly Void and of none effect ; and I do here Suspend this sitting till the funeral rites Of Don Pandolfo have been solemnized, And we can meet, unbribed and unconstrained. To claim our rights, as only lawful heirs Of our intestate|_lord. \The assembly breaks up in confusion. Scene III.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 41 Scene III. — A chamber lighted with numerous tapers. The coffin of Don Pandolfo in the centre, surrounded by attendants watching. Alfonso ; Borghese. Alf. Faithful retainers of our father's house, For a brief season we would be alone In this dark scene of death. Borg. Let us, my friends. Relieve your pious watch, that ye may rest While we, with saddened hearts, do meditate O'er this dear corpse. Attendants. We will retire, my lord. \Exeunt Attendants. Alf. Brother — unwonted word, yet not unblessed. When uttered o'er his corpse to whom we owe Our life, our name, our race !— too long our heai^ts By bitter rivalry and causeless hate Have been asunder rent. Now, as we stand At the dread portal of a father's grave, Oh, let the past be past, our hatred sheathed In love or mild forgetfulness of wrong. For us, our sire lives still. Raffaello's claim Insults his name and birthright From the grave That voice which oft hath called us to the field Now summons us to vengeance ; bids us list 'Neath the same banner — soldiers, friends, and brothers. Borg. I joy to hear thee claim a brother's name, Even though the sympathy of a common hate Were all that joined our hearts. And yet, Alfonso, Time was when, in the innocence of youth And in the simple bond of childlike faith, Unenvying and unenvied, we were one. 42 ALFONSO PETRUCCI,- [Act III In every feat of arms, or martial game, We were competitors ; yet love was still The prize for which we fought, the crown we won. Oh, 'twas an evil day in which I writ Upon thy breast the record of my guilt, And of thy wrong — alas ! yet unforgiven. Alf. Oh, deem it now atoned, or rather read it As covenant of peace, witness of love. Writ with a brother's blood. Borg. 1 will, I will ; For with one word thy love hath gently stanched The deeper wound of guilty consciousness Of such fell deed. Give me thine hand as pledge Of faith renewed. Alf. I will ; yet were it ill To yield these moments, sacred to stern thought, Even to the accents of returning love! Raffaello hath usurped our heritage. And the base Medici, who owes his throne To me, casts off the allegiance of my faith. Spurns from his feet the friend who raised him up Even from the dust ; but his vile life shall pay The forfeit of his treachery ! Borg. I hate, Like thee, the Pope and all his merchant crew, And fain would see Riario on the throne His uncle filled, who loved our sire so well And was his trusted friend. Yet were it ill To waste our wrath on him. I care but little Who reigns in Rome j my war-cry is but this — The foul usurper ne'er shall reign in Siena. Alf. Yet musth& reign, while reigns in Rome the Medici That reign must first be closed. Borg. ' What meanest thou ? Scene III.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 43 Alf. Wouldst thou dry up the stream ? Quench first the source. Or kill the tree ? Cut off its hidden root. Dethrone Raffaello ? First dethrone the Pope Who raised him up to cast thee in the dust. Borg. I dare not follow thee in path like this. Base as he is, he is the successor Of Peter, God's vicegerent. I would wage Incessant war against his temporal reign ; Invoke the powers of heaven and earth to join To drive him from our Italy, to force him To prove his kingdom is not of this world, His weapons not from hence ; yet ne'er could I Lift up my hand to take his life. Great God ! My arm would wither up ; my heart would fail. He is the Lord's anointed. Alf. Weak in heart, And weak in memory too ! Hast never read How many a fabled successor of Peter Hath gently slept his poisonous life away Through potent drug by friendly hand dispensed ? Did not the Borgia, but a few years hence. Drink the empoisoned cup by skilful hand Mixed, but by hand less prudent ministered ? Mine be that skill, while thy revenge o'ertakes The fell usurper in the open field Thy warlike soul loves best. Borg. My work is clear. I haste this day to claim the proffered aid Of the King of Naples ; from his Court I pass To the Most Christian King, whose eager hate Seeks a just pretext for long-threatened war With Florence and the Medici. Alf. 'Twere well 44 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act III. That I should wait thee here, and watch the game By Doji Raffaelo played. \A Messenger enters. Messenger. His Holiness Charged me to give this brief into your hands, Lord Cardinal, and command your swift return. Your absence is unlicensed, and the needs Of Church and State require your Eminence To speed your course to Rome. Alf. {reads the brief). Go, tell your master Our Court at Siena needs our presence more. But {Aside) I must needs dissemble. {To the Messenger) I obey. Borghese, 'tis for thee to plead our cause In Siena ; mine to vindicate our rights Even at the fountain-head of guilt and wrong, At Rome ! [Exeunt. Scene IV. — A public place in Siena. Two Citizens. i^^ Cif. What these wild shouts ? this crowding in the streets ? This rush to gain the Senate house ? 2nd Cit. I marvel That thou hast heard not. Raffaello came This morn from Rome, to take his place among The mourners at his brother's funeral — Came with the papal brief which made him heir To Siena's lordship ; with the ensigns, too. Of Cardinal (for the Pope to force his claim Hath raised him to the purple), and with train Of followers armed, and (as it seemed) prepared To fright away or else to quell resistance. Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 45 But scarce had he arrived before the gates, Which the vast crowd assembled to behold The dreary pageant made impassable, When such a rush was made on every side That he was forced to beat a quick retreat. The furious throng pursuing, and dividing Between the living tyrant and the dead Such threats and curses as were never heard Uttered o'er vilest bandit. Tst at What befel The funeral-car and its long cavalcade Of mourners hired to mourn ? ind Cit. They sped their way Into a by-street leading towards the back Of the cathedral, and the angry crowd Cared not to follow. \st Cit. But the bell that calls The senators sounds from the Campanile. ■znd Cit. Thy fears have given it voice ; I hear it not. \st Cit. Can it be Don Pandolfo's funeral bell ? Yet that would be of deeper tone. Again I hear it. From the Senate house it sounds ! ■2nd Cit. Thou hast a sharper ear than mine. That note Must haste our steps, if we would stem the tide Which pours from every street and lane to meet In wildest concourse in the market-place. Moments are days ; our freedom soon must be Weighed in the balance 'gainst a tyrant's claim. A single vote may turn the trembling scale. Oh, let us haste our steps ; the surging crowd Will soon close o'er our path. The bell hath ceased ! \Exeunt. END OF ACT III. 46 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IV. ACT IV. Scene I. — Rome. An apartment of CAimit^Ai, Riario the Vatican. Alfonso; Riario. Ria. Forget that he was born a Medici ; In the ascent to the Pontifical throne, Name, race, and all the accidents of birth Are lost, or pale as dim and distant lights, In that exceeding glory. Alf. Foolish thought ! And deem'st thou that he will so soon forget That thou art a Riario ; that thine uncle, Even though he sate on Peter's sacred throne. Joined with the Pazzi in their bold attempt To stamp out from the earth his name and race ? Will he forget that thou wert leagued with those Who bore the avenging knife when Julian fell ? Ria. Why lead my steps, fast verging on the grave. To that dread charnel-house ? Oh, let the past Be past indeed ! Alf. And is the present, then, Fraught with no dangers ? Is our future life Peaceful and cloudless as the summer's sky ? Seest thou not that he only bides his time To strike, whilst thou art creeping to the grave. Or lowly crouching to receive the blow ? ^CENB I] ALFONSO PETRUCCI, 4J Oh, prove thy right to bear a glorious name,* Which else shall live but in the lying page Of hated Machiavel. Rici- Young man, thy words Fall on mine ear like voices from the dead, Bringing back memories of a grisly past. Oh, shut them up within thy breast, and spare This frame, fast sinking in the calm of death And craving only peace. Alf. ■ And wouldst thou seek Peace at the price of honour — endless shame For a few hours of base inglorious rest ? Ria. Forbear, and force me not, by that firm oath We took to guard the Pontiff's sacred life And to reveal its dangers, to disclose Thy words of hideous guilt. Alf. If thou but breathe One word, the dagger which must pierce his breast Shall first be sheathed in thine. Ria. Impetuous youth, Think'st thou that I, a Roman, fear to meet A Roman's death ? Alas ! the assassin's knife In Rome may meet our breast at every step, The poisoned cup approach our lips in house Of friends — accustomed hospitality. Sheathe, then, thy dagger, or go forth to join The wild Trasteverini in their strifes, And dare not to a prince of Holy Church Disclose a bandit's guilt. * The origin of the Riario family is rather obscure. Raffaello Riario was the son of Antonio Sansone by Violante Riario, the near relation of Pope Sixtus IV. That Pope adopted him as a nephew, and enjoined on him the assumption of the name and arms of Riario. 48 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IV Alf. Thy words are brave ; Yet, if thou prize the few fast-running sands Of thy life's glass, be voiceless as the grave, Which else will close on thee before thy time, To teach eternal silence. \Exit. Scene II. — Apartments of Alfonso. Alfonso ; Ver- CELLi. Antonio at a table, writing. Alf. How fares the Holy Father? Ver. If the fears And anxious cares that load a Pontiff's life Could find relief, I ween he would fare well. Alf. But hath he cause for fear ? Ver. Your Eminence Must better know than I do. On the day Of the Consistory, an ague chill Came o'er him, and a flush of heat, like that Which Romans kriow too well, succeeded it. Alf. Yet simplest remedies might well reduce Such symptom — some narcotic wisely mixed. Producing welcome sleep. What think'st thou, doctor ? Ver. I dare not treat his case, as I might treat The poor Trasteverine's, whose vile frame I might experiment upon ; yea, prove The strength of poisonous drugs to test their use. Alf. Yet have the Medici a charmed life. No Roman, like Lorenzo, could have braved The Pazzi's dagger, or outlived its wound ; And nerves like these, when weakened and unstrung, Do need strong remedies. Dost heed my meaning ? SoEXE II.] ALFONSO- PETRUCCI. 49 Ver. Strong remedy might kill ; mere soothing draught Bring short relief. A middle course were better \ And that would best sustain his confidence In us, and best prolong a life which yet May yield a fruitful harvest to our skill. Alf. Yet in a field where patient care and skill Too oft is unrewarded, and tried service Meets cold neglect or base ingratitude, The harvest of thy skill may yet be reaped By other hands than thine. Ver. What means my lord ? Alf. Plain speech were dangerous. And yet the thought That if the Pazzi in an earlier day, Instead of rushing madly to the slaughter, Had mixed the — the — the bowl of aconite Or deadly henbane, they had reigned in Florence, And Rome had never seen a Medici. Ver. Yet oft the poisoned cup hath missed its aim. As in the Borgias' case. Alf. 'Twas ill conceived ; They overreached themselves. The poisoned wine Was sent too soon. Such half-begotten crimes Die in the birth ; the finished work alone Is crowned with honour. Ver. Yet if it should fail ? Alf. It cannot fail, unless the recreant heart Fail first, the hand unnerved refuse its work. Fortune, like willing slave, waits on success And crowns its finished work. {In an undertone) The half-wrought deed Of Florence must be finished here in Rome. Dost understand my meaning ? E so ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IV. Ver. For myself, If I had planned that work I would have wrought it With better skill than his who weakly shrank From the death-deed, and saved Lorenzo's life. And yet their fate who rushed to that dark fray Untimely, and were all red-handed seized. And paid the forfeit of their guilt, might daunt The bravest of their followers. Nor the rank Of Salviati, nor Riario's power. Saved from dread death the greatest of the least Who fell before the avenging Florentines. Alf. And did not even the arch-conspirator. The Pope, die calmly in his bed ? Riario, His nephew, sworn accomplice — doth he not Live on in hoary age ? Thank Heaven, in Rome We have no servile Florentines to mourn A tyrant's death, or to avenge his fate ; Nor need to meet in church or open street The destined victim. Gentler means are ours, Such as thy skill may better find than mine. Yet must the deed be done ! Ver. And done by me ? Alf. By thee. (Aside) Be this thy fee for this brief hour Of consultation. \Places a purse in his hand secretly. Va: {aside). How can I accept. Yet how refuse ? On either side is death ! I would seek leisure to reflect. My veins Feel as though fire, instead of mortal blood. Were leaping through them, while my nerves are strained As though the very cords of life would burst. What have I said ? what done ? I must away. For now the Pontiff" claims my services. My work fulfilled, I will return to thee, Scene III.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 51 Lord Cardinal, and seek thy presence here. {Aside, and glancing doubtfully towards Antonio) But let us talk alone ! Scene III. — An apartment in the Vatican. LAODA^riA and Violante {entering together, the former, in great excitement, leaning on the latter). Laod. Oh, I am wild. My brain is whirling round ; A tempest rages round me, and a gulf Is opening at my feet. Friend, sister, guide, Oh, whither canst thou lead me ? Viol. What new grief — What greater grief than that we both have shared. Hath fallen, can fall on us ? Laod. As I passed through Yon corridor, a messenger disguised Placed this within my hand. I know not why I took it from him. Could it be for me ? I read one word, and then a blinding film Came o'er my sight, for oh, that word was death ! Read it, and if thou canst, interpret it. Viol. Oh, calm thyself, and I will read. Fear not The wildest threat Laod. Read, read ; I will be calm ! Viol, (reads). " If Don Alfonso's life is dear to thee. Know that that life must perish in the storm Which soon must burst o'er all his house and thine. Unless thou save it. Unto thee alone This lot is given ; but thy protecting hand Must seek its guidance from the hand that writes These words of warning. Meet me at the hour 52 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IV Of midnight' in the place where this is given thee. Be cautious, for a double guard is placed At the entrance of the corridor. Fail not, And all may yet be well. But come alone ; No witness must be near, or all is lost." Laod. Each word is as a dagger to my heart, And strikes it in the dark. What can I do ? Were it not that the shadows of the past Fall o'er my path, and gather in the distance. Shrouding the sunset of our fading lives Ere they go down in night, these words would read But as a meaningless attempt to fright A woman's heart. But I have nought to fear. And only one to love — and my poor life Might well be given for his. Viol. Alas ! my sister, Such words are no mere threat. In these dark walls. Whose every stone might tell a tale of blood. No heart is faithful, save the heart that bears Deathless tradition of some ancient wrong Or pent-up vengeance. All — all else is false ! From other men, in other scenes, to obey Such mandate would be madness ; but in Rome To treat its warning with contempt might be E\-en worse than madness — death ! Laod. I know not which In this dread hour to choose — madness or death. The one would veil us with unconsciousness Of present ills, yet leave the comedy Of life around us ; while the other brings The welcome sentence of eternal sleep, '\^'hich even the dream of life can vex no more. But what must now be done ? SciiNE IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 53 Viol. One only way Reveals itself in this dark hour of need. Thou must seek first Alfonso ; lay before him This letter ; tell him that you have resolved To face this nameless one, be he friend or foe ; Then ask him, in some near recess concealed. To guard thy life from danger. At some sign Agreed on, summon him to shield thy life And guard his own, by this strange missive warned Of coming danger. Laod. Prudent is thy counsel. And well and timely given. But one more boon I ask of thee — that thou companion me On this dread errand ; aid me to explain The hidden mystery of these threatening words, Our duties and our fears. Viol. I go with thee. Haply we may o'ertake him as he passes From the Consistory. Laod. Lead — lead me to him ! \E,xeimt. Scene IV. — A corridor in the Vatican, dimly lighted. Enter Laodamia, with a lamp, A Stranger, concealed in a mantle. Laod. I know not whom in this dark midnight hour And this strange place I meet. Whoe'er thou art. Stranger, I have trusted thee ; it is for thee To prove I am not rash. Tell me thy mission. And let thy words be brief. Stranger. My naijie, my office 54 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IV. Is not unknown to thee. Of Don Alfonso I am the secretary. Laod. What ! Antonio ? Ant. {throwing off his mantle). The same ! Laod. Great God ! what mean these fearful words ? Explain— interpret them ! Ant. My master's life Hangs on a word — a breath. Laod. What meanest thou ? Ant. He is engaged in a conspiracy To slay the Sovereign Pontiff. Laod. Never — never ! It cannot be. Some wretch hath been suborned To swear away his life. Ant. That wretch is here, If the possession of these fatal proofs Brand him as traitor or as perjurer. Laod. Antonio, thou hast known him for long years ; Thou knowest that every secret of his heart Is writ upon his lips. And darest thou say, Impetuous, bold, and reckless though he be. That he could harbour murderous plan or thought Of secret treason ? e'er could lift his hand Or aim a shaft against the Lord's anointed — Even the great Pontiff whom his suffrage raised To Peter's throne, his voice was first to acclaim ? Go, tell thy tale to other ears than mine. If this be all its burden. Ant. Lady, hear me ! This paper, signed by Don Alfonso's hand. Proves his dread guilt, and bears the signature Of Don Vercelli. Laod. What ! the Pope's physician ? Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 55 What name shall we hear next ? It may be, even The Donna Maddalena's. Merciful Heaven, What life is safe in Rome ? Ant. Be calm ; for else These proofs of guilt, which but one word of thine Might doom to swift destruction, must survive To bring worse doom on him whom once thou lovedst. Laod. And still, still love ; not now as once I loved, Yet love as sister — bride of heaven and him ! But I have been too hasty. Speak : what word Of mine can save his life ? Ant. If but that word Which once, with deeper than a sister's love, Passed from thy heart to his, but now to him May never more be uttered, could but fall On mine, my life were blessed, his life secure ! Laod. And darest thou, miscreant, claim my love as bribe For Don Alfonso's life ? For that I would Lay down my own. But my first love and last Is offered up to God ; upon the shrine Of his dear love who might not share it here It rests, until it lives again in heaven, Divorced no more for ever ! Ant. Yet bethink thee. Long have I served thy house. Alfonso owes To me the power his name hath gained in Siena. When he claimed thee as his affianced one, I loved thee with a brother's love ; when he Could love thee but as brother, then my heart Aspired to higher claim. I dared to hope That I might fill the place in thy fond heart Which once was his. I dared to think that I, 56 ALFONSO PETRUCCl. [Act IV. Whose tried fidelity was known and prized By him thou lovedst the most, might find from thee The glance of pity ; that that glance might yet Shine on, until it brightened into love. Oh, say at least you hate me not, for then You yet may pity me — may love me yet ! Laod. I never hated what I ne'er could love, And never pitied what my inmost soul Could only scorn. Be this my last reply ! Ant. Lady, 'twere well that thou shouldst guard thy speech. The life thou lovest is in the hand of him Whose love thou now hast spurned. At least, his vengeance Thou darest not to despise. Laod. Vengeance belongs To God alone. My cause is in His hands ; To Him I now commend it — and Alfonso's. Ant. Oh, even in stern rejection beautiful, I would that thou couldst hate me, if one spark Of love could spring from the ashes of thy hate To make me feel that thou rememberest me ! Let me, at least, adore thee ! \Kneels and takes her hand. Laod. Ho ! Alfonso ! Alf. {appearing from a recess behind). Monster, fall back ! kneel, if thou wilt, to God, To seek His pardon for thy treacherous guilt. Kneel to the master whom thou wouldst betray. Kneel to the Pope who would reward thee better Than this angelic one, whom heaven itself Hath interposed to save ! Ant. ' Lord Cardinal, Thy life is in my hands. This scroll attests Thy treason Scene IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 57 Alf. And thy shameless perfidy, Or rather thine invention. Ant. It was writ At thy dictation, signed by Don VercelH And by thyself. Could proof be made more plain ? My part was only to record thy words And be their faithful witness. Alf. I defy thee To prove the words thy lying pen hath writ. Give me the scroll. Ant. I give thee first my life. Alf. I do accept thy gift ; and thus the scroll Shall perish with its witness at one blow ! \Seizes Antonio. They struggle, and the latter falls. Enter three Pontifical Guards. Guard. Seize them ! Within the Apostolic Palace Conflict with arms is criminal. Alf. I dare you To touch me. As a prince of Holy Church, None but an officer who bears a warrant From the Pope himself can order mine arrest. Guard. Here is his order, duly signed and sealed, And countersigned by the Master of the Palace. \Shows the order to Alfonso. Alf. It bears the signet of the Fisherman ; I must obey. But first let me conduct This noble lady to her own apartment ; Then will we follow you. Guard. Your Eminence May trust to us as we to you. We do Accept your pledge. From you, Messer Antonio, 58 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act IV We claim these papers, and must seal them here. Their mysteries must be solved by keener wits Than ours. Firm hands and true and faithful hearts Are all that we can claim. God give thy soul A good deliverance ! Ant. Lead on ; I follow. END OF ACT IV. Scene I.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 59 ACT V. Scene I. — The Consistory. Leo X., surrounded by the Cardinals' Secretaries and officials at a table in front of the Pope* Leo X. I have convoked you, venerable brothers, Thus suddenly, through urgency of need For your high counsel. Treason walks abroad— Not stealthily, as in the day when crime Hid its dread aspect from the public gaze, But with the proud disguise of patriotism ; And those who stand the nearest to our throne Are leagued against our life. A murderous plot, A foul conspiracy, whose roots are spread Even in this Senate, hath revealed itself. But the high Providence which in earlier day Preserved for Rome the glory of the world Hath succoured us, and saved this sacred throne, Built on the ruins of its world-wide power, f These papers, records of the hideous crime. And tracking every tortuous path of guilt, * The scene here presented is briefly described by Guicciar- dini, 1. xiii. t ' ' Ma I'alta Provvidenza che con Scipio Difese a Roma la gloria del mondo ._;.■' Soccorra tosto si com' io concipio.-" Dante, Farad., c. xxvii. z/. 61. 6o ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. Have fallen into our hands. The proofs are here ; \Produces the papers. And he who planned a guiltless Pontiff's death Stands now before your eyes. Enter Alfonso, between two Pontifical Guards. " How long wilt thou Abuse our patience, and thy maddened rage Elude our vigilance ? Quousque tandem ? Doth not the nightly watch in this our palace, Fear of the people, concourse of good men. This Senate's sacred scene, these hoary hairs. Move thee to shame ? " Alfonso, Cardinal, Prince of the Church, and nephew of the friend Whom most I love, whose care hath saved my life From thy foul treason, I proclaim thee here Traitor to God, and to His holy Church An alien ; from the tree of life cut off. As withered branch ; of all thy rights deprived ; Disgraced, degraded, excommunicate ! Alf. Your Holiness needs better proof than this Of such unnatural guilt ; and I do here Appeal as from the Pontiff ill-informed To the same Pontiff better taught and schooled To judge so hard a cause.* Was it not I Who raised thee to this pinnacle of power? And can mine be the traitor's arm that now Would cast thee from it ? Let my noble uncle The Don Raffaello say, if say he dare, * "Receptum est, a Sede.ApostolicS, appellari ... ad eamdem Sedem Apostolicam melius informatam "(" Van Espen,"Part i. tit. jv. i;. ii. sect. 12). Scene I.] ' ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 6t That e'er I uttered threat or word of guilt (I say not murder) in his hearing ; prove, If prove he can, that writings forged and false, Even though they feign my seal and signature. Can be my work. Is such guilt probable ? Is it even possible, as against the prince AVho owes to me his throne — the power to bless And heal with mercy, or with curse to blast As it would blast me now. The wretch who builds His sordid fortune on his master's loss Is not the man who boldly pleads his cause Before your Holiness, nor fears to meet The traitor who would rise but by his fall. Leo X. I dare not trust myself to hear thee farther. Lest the weak heart of him who loved thee once Should stay the hand of justice. Leave our presence, And we will weigh your words and these dread proofs In even balance. Guards, remove your prisoner ! [Exeunt Guards with Alfonso. To sift this evidence with legal skill. By the stern rules of our Pontifical law, Befits not our high office. We remit The cause, with all its facts and incidents. To our tried prefect, Mario Perusco,* Chief judge of all our causes criminal. On whose report, maturely weighed, must rest The changeless judgment of this Holy See. [Pauses, But now a yet more painful task remains. Not only the young members of our Senate Are leagued against us, but the ancient men. The elders of our Israel, princes of * This reference of the case to a civil judge provoked the protest of the Spanish ambassador in the interests of the foreign Cardinals. 62 ALFONSO PETRUCCI, [Act V, This holy Congregation. This dread paper Records their names. I dare not trust mine eye To scan them, or my lips to utter them ; I close in grief the page. But in the name Of God and Holy Church, we summon all Who may be present here, and cite all those Who from this high Consistory are absent, If they are conscious of this hidden crime, And knowing it, concealed its treason-guilt, To kneel before us, and repentant claim Our high indulgence, and impunity From the dread penalty that falls on those Who fail to guard the Pontiff's sacred life. \Pauses. And now, on pain of excommunication, We do enjoin strict silence for a space. That ye may judge your hearts and purge yourselves From this dark crime. Now only is the time Accepted ; now the day of your salvation. \A solemn silence ensues, in the midst of which Cardinal Riario comes forward and kneels before the Pope. Ria. First among those who heard the direful threats Uttered by Don Alfonso, and who failed Through fear their guilty purpose to disclose, I kneel before your Holiness, and pray Your mercy for my frailty. Age and grief. Twin guides which help me onward to the grave. Have made my strength to fail me. They alone Must plead for me, and cover my great guilt ! Leo X. {raising him). I do forgive thee ! Go, and sin no more ; Thy late confession not too late atones For silence which would else be base connivance. [Cardinal Soderini kneels before the Pope. SCEKE 11.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 63 What ! Soderini ? kinsman * Florentine ! Alas ! our foes are those of our own household. Whom can we trust ? Sod. Before your Holiness I kneel to claim the mercy thou hast granted To Don Riario. We were one, alas ! In knowledge of these threats, but fear of death Held back the power of speech. Yet had we known That threats had ripened into plans of guilt, Our utterance had returned. Leo X. 'Tis well for thee That it returns this day. Thou art forgiven ! But thou. Lord Cardinal Bandinello Saulio, Involved more deeply in this dark design. Must wait the judgment of thy brethren, ere We can include thee in this welcome word Of high absolving grace. We meet to-morrow In fullest senate, and thus give thee time To perfect thy defence. But for to-day Our task is done. Let the Prothonotary Declare this high Consistory dissolved. Scene IL — The prison. Alfonso; Laodamia. Laod. Oh that my deathless love Could be the ransom of thy life, my tears Blot out the writing of thy guilt ! Alas ! They have but writ thy sentence. But for me, Antonio might have yielded up the proofs * The mother of Soderini was Dianora Tornabuona, the near relation (probably sister) of the famous Lucrezia Tornabr.ona, the grandmother of Leo X. 64 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. Of that dark interview. I sought to shield, But I have pierced thee ; strove to save from death, But I have slain thee. Alf. Speak ! What meanest thou ? Laod. Had I but met that monster's base advance With prudent self-control, and gained from him That fatal scroll, I might have saved thy life. I was too rash, too proud ; I could not bear To hear him speak of me as one he loved. I could have been his slave to save thy life. But never loved another life than thine. Alf. Oh, goad me not to madness. Even the thought Of that dark midnight hour which saw him kneel Before thee is a dagger to my soul. Sharper than traitor's knife or Pope's revenge. Laod. Yet was the charge he laid against thee keener Than murderer's blade, direr than papal curse. Alfonso, tell me that that roll was forged — That those dread papers were false witnesses Suborned by him ! Alf. His treason were the same, If they were false or true. Laod. Oh, leave me not That poor alternative. Say they were false. And let me keep my faith. Alf. 'Twere hard indeed To tell thee what they were, for truth is oft So mixed with falsehood that the keenest wit Might scarce divide them. It may be that much Was writ that I spake lightly, much set down That I had never said. Laod. Yet how canst thou Explain that fatal compact, pledging thee Scene II.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 65 To give reward to him whose traitorous hand Fulfilled some unnamed deed ? Alf. Such unnamed deeds Live only in the thoughts of him whose tongue Can give them place and name. Let the vile slaves Who hover round the Court interpret them. Laod. Canst thou thus tamper with thy life, and rack With doubts even worse than death this martyred love ? Say — art thou guilty ? art thou innocent ? There is no middle course. I seem to stand As in the purging flames ; I wait for thee To pray me out of fires, oh, worse than those Of guilt unshriven. Alf. Oh, loved one, could my cause Be tried by thee, thy true unswerving faith Would prove me innocent. For if to plan A tyrant's death were crime, then war itself. Even for our holiest rights or bitterest wrongs, Would be but murder, wholesale, manifold. Which yet men crown with glory. Laod. Oh, Alfonso, Thy- passion wrongs thine heart ; the insatiate lust For vengeance tramples out each holier thought. It was not thus thou spakest when this fond heart Owned thee its lord ; it was not thus thou spakest When to a higher life this widowed love Surrendered thee. I feared not for thee then ; But now, how can I fear not ? Leave, oh, leave me The creed of my first love — the faith that thou. Even 'neatli the cloud which veils thy soul from mine. Art still the being that I loved at first, And, ah ! must love for ever. If thou art guilty. May God forgive thee ! We are guilty all ; S 66 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. Yet will I still believe thine innocence. And pray that my first faith may be my last. Tfiere are some crimes which even to hardened guilt Can be scarce possible, and such is that Which they have laid on thee. Alf. I grudge thee not That fond belief ; and if thy love distrust My guilt, and can survive the traitor's fate Which now o'erhangs me, I shall rest in peace, And shall not die unblest. Laod. O faith ! O hope ! How weak are ye to struggle with the doubts, The fears that rack my soul ! Yet bear me onward. And Thou, the Lord of all, supremely throned O'er the wild conflicts of this lower world. Teach my unconquered heart to live, to die In the true faith that he I loved on earth Is innocent — to write that word of faith Even upon my grave. Alf. Oh, saintly one, I loved thee once, but now my love is changed To adoration. If I may not live In heaven with thee, I yet will worship thee, And thou wilt light for me that darkening gulf From which I may not rise. Farewell for ever ! Scene III. — The Apartments of Donna Maddalena in the Vatican. Laodamia; Maddalena. Laod. Oh, Donna Maddalena, thy young heart, Though it may ne'er have felt the stroke of grief, Can feel the touch of pity. Scene HI.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 67 Mad. What new sorrow, Poor child, hath fallen on thee ? Laod. Alas ! the doom Which on Alfonso falls, with heavier weight Must fall on me. Mad. My child, what meanest thou ? Laod. I was betrothed to him in earliest years. I loved him ; in dark hour, by base intrigue. He was snatched from me. Don Borghese feared His rivalry in Siena, and Pandolfo I^eagued with Riario to persuade the Pope To make him Cardinal, to wean him from His early love by proud ambition's lust. Forced by my sire and them, I yielded him — ■ Crushed the dear memories of a loving life Like springtide flowers beneath my feet, and then Sprang up along ray path the poisonous weeds Of bitter grief to bear the fruits of death. Oh, Maddalena, if thou e'er hast known The dearth of loneliness, the joys of love, The pang of parting even for brief days Irom one thou lovest, think how terrible 'Twould be to part for ever, and to see The loved one pass through torments worse than death Into the unseen world, before whose void Even faith is struck with palsy of despair. And prayer shrinks trembling. Yet such grief is mine ! And though, through cruel fate, a sister's lot Is all I now can claim, the martyrdom Of suffering love, the sacrifice of self. That he might live a higher life than mine, While I might gaze on him as from afar, Till we can claim an angel's ministry, 68 Alfonso petrucci. [Aut v. Divorced no more — this, this hath raised my soul Above the world, the grave, and death itself; And now even this must fail me, and the day Of my soul's famine dawn ! Mad. Poor victim of A love that hath beguiled and must consume thee, How can I help thee? Even now 'tis said That the dread sentence of a parricide Hath been pronounced on him thy love might once Have raised to saintly life. Yet now that justice Hath had her sway, mercy may interpose And stay the blow, though not arrest the sentence. But work like this brooks not an hour's delay. We must seek audience of the Pope ; there plead — ■ Thou with the eloquence of suffering love, Myself with all a woman's sympathy — ■ For him, for thee. May Heaven with blest success Crown our importunate prayers ! Laod. And thy dear love With life of peace and diadem of glory ! [Exeunt. Scene IV. — The Pofis private apartments in the Vatican. Leo X. ; Cardinal Cornelio. Cor. I do conjure your Holiness to pause In this dread business. Lend not ready ear To Don Raffaello. For the coveted prize Of Siena's lordship he would hold but cheap The lives of all his race. Oh, suffer not The sacred purple to be stained with blood, A Cardinal to be tortured as a slave. Since Urban's reign of terror and of guilt. ScENB IV.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 69 When thrilling cries of tortured Cardinals Ascended to high heaven, such sickening sight Hath ne'er in Rome been witnessed.* Is it yet Too late to stay thine hand ? Leo X. I know not whether This strongest remedy for stubborn guilt Hath been resorted to. I cannot stay The march of justice, or prescribe its course. When the stern rule of the Pontifical law Hath been enforced, mercy may claim its due, But not till then. Cor. Yet what if (as 'tis said) He hath confessed his guilt ? Leo X. 'Tis not enough ; He must denounce his fell accompUces. His guilt stands forth by clearest evidence; Theirs must be proved by him. Cor. Oh, hadst thou been With us in yonder judgment-hall to see The form of Don Alfonso, standing forth In all its youthful beauty, moved with grief That death, and such a death, so soon would mar So fair a life, thine inmost soul, like ours, Had melted into pity, longed to hear Some gentler sentence. For when Don Rinaldo Rose, at the judges' stern behest, to read Their finding and decree, a thrill of grief Passed through the crowd, so saddening and so deep * The horrible cruelties of Urban VI. to the captive Cardinals, whom he dragged about with him, even ordering the murder of one of them on the road, are detailed by his secretary Theodoricus a Niem, an eye-witness, in the first book of his history of the great schism. 70 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. That I was fain to weep, and dared not lift Mine eyes to gaze around me. Then there fell Upon mine ear the voice of that grave man In race the kinsman, and in love the sire Of the rash youth whose doom inflexible, In cruel mockery of his grief, he was Constrained to read — the sentence of sure death Not less to her whose love was his sole bliss, Than to Alfonso, yea, and to himself. Oil, as eaclf accent trembled into life, Or, choked by strong emotion, died away Upon the burdened air, what tongue might tell The grief that filled our breasts ! Leo X. : Thou feelest, methinks, Less for the victim of so great a crime Than for its agent — like the king of old Who mourned for Absalom. If he but lived, And all our lives had perished through his guilt. It would have pleased thee well. Cor. Thou dost misjudge The motive of my words. They but invoke Thy mercy for the criminal ; the crime Who can extenuate ? Enter a Messenger, Mess. Your Holiness Is importuned by the Donna Maddalena To give your gracious audience to herself And to a suppliant friend. Leo X. My sister needs • No importunity to urge her suit ; Tell her we welcome her. \Exit Cornelio. ScEifE IV.l ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 71 Enter Maddalena with Laodamia. Mad. My brother, raised to this high pinnacle Of earthly greatness and of heavenly power, We need to feel with tenderer care and love For those who, like the martyred saints of old, Are children of the sorrows of the cross ; And this sad daughter of our faith and race Is bent down to the earth by load of grief So heavy, that thy heart may well be moved With pity for her state. Laodamia, Approach and claim a father's love for him Who might have borne for thee a husband's name. Laod. (kneeling before the Pope). I cannot speak; my tears must be my prayers. Their source thou know'st too well. Leo X. {raising her up). Alas ! poor child, Thou hast loved, and, in blind ignorance of his Hast loved a parricide. Laod. And love him still, Because I feel, I know that, if not free From guilt, he hath by treacherous guides been led To the dread brink of this dark infamy, And that the heart that loves must yet repent But as his sentence hath been now decreed And justice had her reign, it is for thee, Of God's eternal mercy minister. To say wit.h thy Great Master, " Go, my son, And sin no more ! " Oh, what a fount of love Would be unsealed within Alfonso's heart By word like this ! The purple then would be Sprinkled with tears of grateful love, not stained 72 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. With bloody which no repentant tears might else Wipe from the great remembrance book of God Alad. What word of mine can add to this great plea ' Of faith, of love, from breaking heart sent forth ? Thou know'st, my brother, to Francesco Cibo I am betrothed. Thy love hath promised me A fitting dowry. Oh, be this thy gift — If not to pardon, at the least to save Alfonso from the doom of fearful death ! Leo X. I dare not promise unconditioned mercy In case like this. Murder might else stalk forth, And hand in hand with sacrilege invade Our homes, and make our holiest things a prey. Such pardon needs securities. Our life Is menaced here in Rome, our rule in Siena, If but Alfonso yield himself to us. And pledge allegiance to the Don Raffaello, Renounce his claims, denounce the accomplices In this great treason, we might take his case Into our high consideration ; change His fearful penalty to lighter doom. Lewd. I cannot barter with thee for a life As though it were mere merchandise. To him Pardon on terms like these were worse than death, And life a brand of shame. Mad. My child, forbear From such dread utterance. Laod. ' Oh, Maddalena, Forgive me ! And forgive me. Holy Father ! I minded not that thou art God's high priest, Else would those words which pierced my heart have fallen Scene V.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 73 As on the desert air, where no response But their own echo could have reached thine ear. Leo X. My sister, it were useless to prolong This scene of misery. In thy loving care We leave this suppliant , Let her prove her love To him whose innocence, with childlike faith And childish petulance, she urges still. By leading him to own his guilt, denounce The partners of his crime, renounce his claims On Siena, and without reserve submit His cause to me. I might be merciful, But I must first be just. Scene V. — The prison. Laodamia; Alfonso. Laod. All, all hath failed ! The gentle Maddalena, Angel of light in these dark halls of death, Brought me before the Pope ; appealed for thee, For me,. with all the artless eloquence Of a pure life, a heart which hath not yet Unlearned the tenderness of woman's love. Though she ne'er knew its grief. Alf. And what said he, The fabled successor of saints and martyrs. Who builds their tombs but to allow the deeds Of those who slew them ? Laod. Few and cold his words, Worthy of all his race. Like broker, sworn To appraise the few last days of thy poor life. He named his price— laid down conditions. Had I come there with gold like old Riario, Or ample lands, I might perchance have bought 74 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. Oblivion for thy guilt, as he for his.* Alf. And what were his conditions ? Laod. ' To denounce The partners of thy crime, renounce thy claims On Siena, and give fealty to Raffaello ; Then might he yet give ear unto my prayer And save thy life. Alf. I will not ask what then Thou saidst. My more than life was in thy hands, And thou, the angel of our name and race, Couldst not betray^it. But my time is short. My days are numbered, and this meeting hour Is measured out by seconds. See, the sand Is running low. Laod. Oh, Don Alfonso, say But one, one word — that thou art innocent, Or, if not innocent, repentant. Leave This last best heritage to stay my heart And be its bread of life when thou art gone. Then will I wear away this life of pain In importunity of prayer and deeds Of mercy, and will build again for thee The altar of my love. Said I "again " ? It stands ; no human hand can cast it down, No papal curse can make it desecrate. Give me, then, this last pledge of constant love. Friend — brother — guide — I dare not call thee more — ■ Betrothed and parted— parting now for ever ! \FaUs on his neck. * Riario ransomed his life for the enormous sum of 100,000 golden crowns. Soderini gave 10,000 for his life, while Saulio was killed "with a slow poison" (see Palatius in his life of Leo X., who quotes Foligta; "Elogia Clariss. Ligurum"), Scene V.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 75 Alf. Oh, saint of God, too sacred for the love Of mortal stained with guilt and doomed to pay The price of maddening wrath, I have nought to leave _ Save the eternal memory of a love That must live on where'er our lot may be, And through thy prayers may live with thine in bliss. I do repent — I would that I could say Believe and hope. Thy prayers must gain for me The faith I lost too soon, the hope that sinks On the dark horizon of a life of guilt. Laod. Yet thou art penitent, and thy dear love Is stainless ; how then can I deem thee false To him who is the bond of all our loves, Uniting all in Christ ? A wondrous dream Of joy comes o'er me. These grim walls are changed To the fair palace where, in earlier days, We spake of love — the cradle of our race. I see the orange-groves where once we walked, And watched the domes of Siena as they met The rising sun, or basked in the long sunset. Oh, they were days of bliss ; and they return To gaze on us as from a distant world, And mock the ruins of our outraged love ! Alfonso, say, oh, say thy heart is true — That those blest days gave not false prophecy. Say that thou lovest me still. Yet rather say That thou art innocent. For that one word I would give up — not life, for life to me Is living death ; but more, far more — thy love ! Alf. Yet have we lived to prove that all is false Save that undying love ; and can my guilt Be true where all is false ? Thy truth alone, 76 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. Thy pitying glance, reminds me there is yet A pardoning God. Laod. Oh, be His pardon thine, And mine to pray for it, till prayer no more Can rise from this lone heart. Oh, God ! to part So soon ! to die so young ! Farewell, farewell ! Alf. Yet not for ever ; for my life of guilt Shall cleave to thee, and thou wilt cleave to Him From whom no curse of Pope or prince on earth Can ever rend thee ! {Looks at the hour-glass.) But the hour hath come ! The guard is at the door. Enter a Guard. Guard. Most noble lady, The hour of interview is o'er. Laod. Great God, Be with him to the last. I may not be. Farewell, farewell ! and be thy words mine own — " Yet not for ever ! " [Exeunt. Scene VI. — A gallery adjoining the prison, lit with a faint lamp. Laodamia, entering it, meets Orlando, formerly in the service of Alfonso. Laod. Orlando, is it thou ? By what strange chance Hath it befallen thee to keep watch and ward Over thy master's son ? Orl. By the same chance Which made me first his slave. Scene VI.] ALFONSO PETRUCCL 77 Laod. Nay, answer kindly. The lord Pandolfo was thy faithful friend ; He saved thy life from pirates, who had doomed To death their captives, when with mightier arm He rescued thee. Orl. To doom that life to slavery ; Though in these veins the holy Prophet's blood Flows pure and clear, even as through dark ravine The mountain torrent Laod. Yet thou owest thy life To him, and but for him its current now Would be choked up in deatL Orl. 'Twere better far To choke it at its source, than make its stream Stagnant and thick in the polluted air Of Rome or Siena. Laod. Oh, let former wrongs Be now forgotten. Think of him who once Was thy fond playmate, loved thee, followed thee, Hung breathlessly upon thy wondrous tales Of Moorish life, of wild and valiant deeds Wrought by thy kinsmen. He could wrong thee not ; And if he lives, thy life, thy freedom too. Shall live with his. Orl. Lady, 'twere doubtful gain To save a traitor. He who breaks his faith May never mend it j and that faith was pledged To him whom he believes in as his prophet. His great high priest Laod. Why call Alfonso traitor On a mere traitor's word ? To thee, at least. He hath been faithful. Oh, condemn him not ; But soothe for him his dread captivity 78 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V With the blest thought that one who knew him first Dares trust him to the end. Orl. And could I trust him When to his brother he was faithless found ? Could he who had betrayed his master prove True to a slave like me ? Laod. Oh, good Orlando, I thought not this of thee. Thy race is famed For faith unwavering and invincible. For love forsaking not when all forsake. Oh, I would here invoke it — claim at least Thy pity for his fate whom once thou lovedst. Thou canst not hate him now. [Orlando passes on. Laod. Oh, whither can I turn in this dark maze Of cruelty and wrong ? I have no guide. And wander on companionless. In vain I ask my way ; no human tongue replies. The voices of the howling wilderness Bring back my prayers upon my breaking heart ! Oh, if Alfonso could but say that word, " I am innocent ! " if I could find but one To disbelieve his guilt, but one to cast His mite of faith into the treasury Of this fond heart which loved and loves him still ! If I could wake one kindly thought in those Who envied once, and well might pity now ! But who is this approaching ? Enter Violante. Violante ? Oh, wherefore here ? For me this scene of death Seems like a birthplace. But for thee ? Scene VI.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 79 Viol. My sister, My birthplace still is thine; for kindred souls Are born together, must together bear The yoke of life, and then together die. But I must lead thee hence. Thy heart-rent sire Is wandering frantic, wildly pacing on Througli this vast maze of halls and corridors, Uttering thy name to every passing breeze Which but returns his moan. Oh, leave with me This charnel-house. Return to the upper air From this dark stifling gloom. Laod. I cannot move. My heart is chained, my limbs are paralyzed; The chill of death comes o'er me. Do I live. Or is even life a dream ? Viol. Oh, lean on me. And I will lean on God. He bears our cross Who friendless bare His own. Laod. I cannot move. I dread me that his hour of doom is nigh. And mine must strike with his ! If he lives still, Here still I live with him ; if here he dies, I die. Thou wilt not bid me to live on When my poor heart is dead. Viol. My child, be calm. Live for the sire who still must claim thy love ; Live even for me. This prison air hath chilled Thy very life-blood. Come, oh, come with me. Laod. Nay, touch me not. Fear not that I shall faint ; I feel an arm I never felt before Sustaining me. Great God, what do I hear ? It is Alfonso's voice ! So ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V. Viol. 'Tis but the wind Howling along the corridor. Laod. Nay, nay; It is his voice. It is a shriek of anguish. Canst thou deceive me ? Know I not his voice ? There, there ; dost hear it now ? Viol. I hear strange sounds, As of wild men in conflict. 'Tis perchance Some prison orgy. Every day we hear Such strifes as these in the streets, and why not here ? Laod. Oh, trifle not with such a grief as mine, Hark ! 'tis his voice again, and now a cry As of the hideous Moor exulting o'er His unarmed victim,* and a sound I hear As of two struggling men. God give him strength ! There is a heavy fall, a dying groan. It is Alfonso's ! Viol. Child, it is thy dream. Oh, wake to life. Rinaldo ! Lord of heaven. Oh, bring him quickly ! Thine be all the praise, He comes ! Enter RiNALDO, conducted by a Guard. Rin. Last treasure of this bursting heart. Oh, let me lead thee hence. Come, come with me, Lest this dank air put out the only light Which guides me to the grave. Laod. My sire ! my life ! My prayer is answered. 'Twas that thou mightst come. [Rinaldo takes her hand, * " In profundum, obtorto collo, perductus, eodem die ferro per cussus vitam finiit, cum carnifice luctando Orlando ^Ethiope ' (Palatii, " Fasti Card."). Scene VI.] ALFONSO PETRUCCI. 8i No, not to lead me hence, but here to take My last, last breath ; to witness that my love Lives in the darkness of this prison-house, Lives in the night of death. The blow that fell Upon Alfonso, with yet surer aim Hath fallen on me. My life of life is dead, And the poor life which gave it outward form Sinks with it to the grave. And thou, my sire. Wilt lay that life with his. Even if he's doomed To have the burial of a parricide. Wound up in sackcloth shroud, and cast into The Tiber, whose dull waves tell silently Of ruined lives, of memories buried deep. Of all the guilt and grief which these dark walls Have witnessed, and shall witness yet to heaven When earth no more can cover up her slain — If such a grave be his, oh, let me share it. And I shall rise with him to plead the ills. The cruel wrongs which turned a loving life Into a life of madness. But my strength Is failing ; let me lean upon thy breast — ' There sleep my life away. Rin. • Sleep there, my child ; Yet sleep to wake again. This loving breast Pillowed thine infancy. Oh, be thy sleep As sweet as it was then, thy waking smile As bright. But thou art cold ! Viol, {placing her hand on her forehead). Oh, Don Rinaldo, She sleeps, but ne'er to wake. She seemed to hear, Or heard (God only knows); the stroke of death Fall on the form she loved, and as it fell It was her death-stroke too. The higher life G 82 ALFONSO PETRUCCI. [Act V, Struggled in vain to quell the earlier love, Pure as itself, and in the fearful strife Her soul was borne to God. Rin. And I have been The priest of that dread sacrifice ! 'Twas I Who changed a wife's into a sister's love, And hid the earlier fiame I could not quenchj And it hath now consumed her. Viol. Oh, forbear To linger on the past. 'Tis past to her ; Oh, be it past to us. Rin. Yet must I close Those loving eyes, feel if that heart still beats. I feel it. Feel it with me, Violante, And tell me it still beats. Viol. 'Tis but the throb Of thy poor feverish hand. Alas ! her heart Can beat no more for ever. Bear us hence. Kind guards, and be her martyred form embalmed In prayers and tears, preventing that glad day When gain of heaven shall every loss restore. And earth-wronged soul can suffer wrong no more. THE END. PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES. A SELECTION OF KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO.'S (Limited) PUBLICATIONS. GENERAL LITERATURE. Paternoster House, Charing Cross Road, London, A SELECTION OF, KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRtfBNER & CO.'S (Limited) PUBLICATIONS. GENERAL LITERATURE. Actors, Eminent. Edited by William Archer. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d, each. I. "WilUana Charles Macready, By William Archer, II.' Thomas Betterton. By R. W. 1,owe. III. Charles Macklin. By E. A. Parry. ADAMS, W. H. Davenport.— T:'h& "White King; or, Charles the First, and Men and Women, Life and Manners, etc., in the First Half of the Seventeeiith Century. 2 vols. Demy 8vo, zis. ADAMS, W. 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