£3 C?^^ COSTANZA. PS 635 .Z9 C838 Copy 1 A DRAMA SUITABLE FOR PERFORMANCE IN F2MAL2 ACADEMIES AND HIGH-SCHOOLS. BY THE AUTHORESS 0" " The Sisters of Alhama," " Sylvia," " Columbia," and OTHER DKAMAS. NEW YORK: W. H. SADLIER, PUBLISHER, 11 BARCLAY STREET, 1877. COSTANZA. A DRAMA SUITABLE FOR PERFORMANCE IN FEMALE ACADEMIES AND HIGH-SCHOOLS. f BY THE AUTHORESS OF " The Sisters of Alhama " " Sylvia," " Columbu," and OTHER Dramas. ./omM-] NEW YORK : \A/". H. SADLIER, PUBLISHER, 11 BARCLAY STREET, 1877. fV DRAMATIS PERSON.^. CoSTANZA. — A Venetian lady, supposed daughter of Countess Adriana, but really the child of the gypsy Myrica. Countess Adriana. — A Venetian noblewoman. Maria. — Unknown daughter of Countess Adriana. Antonia. — Niece to the Countess Adriana. Myrica. — A gypsy, mother to Costanza. Mother Maddalena. — An Abbess. Sister Bianca. — A religious of the same order. Orinzia Ziani, Carletta Zeno, Ernesta Orso, Vene- tian ladies. Copyright. 1877, by William H. Sadlier. TMPg2-008923 COSTANZA. SCENE I. Yenice.—An apartment in the Palace of the Pisanu—Cos- tanza and Antonia sitting on a balcony overlooking the Canalazzo of Venice. CosTANZA {fanning herself indolently). What readest thou, Antonia ? It hath strung Upon thy drooping lash, large beads of woe. Antonia. The Passion of Our Lord. COSTANZA. Thy grave reply Rebukes the levity that questioned thee ; And on my mood of self-complacent sloth Strikes like a lash. Faith teaches, and I hold, That His Atonement none may comprehend ; And more than I can comprehend it is, That He should think it best to suffer so, Who could have saved us at far less a price ; That we must ever priest and victim be, At life-long sacrifice of shrinking self. COSTANZA. Antonia. And /can comprehend how thou, who art A flower of luxury's conservatoire, Canst marvel at the Passion's dread excess ; But that thou canst not understand the need Of stern self-immolation, who so oft Hast been, on passion's blinding whirlwind, borne To the dark slough of sin and sad remorse ; Not understand the need of Calvary's Founts, For fallen man, (if hell's white heats still burn, And but anneal the fallen angels' sin) Is more, indeed, than I can comprehend. CoSTANZA, Let us, my good Antonia, defer This serious subject till next Passion-time. Come to the balcony, and look we forth O'er Venice beautiful — the Nereid. Lo ! Adriatic from the sunset steals Purple and gold, and with the evening wind. Fragrant with odors from the southern groves Of sunbright Sicily, comes wandering in. To woo with serenade the fair Sea Queen. Antonia. Thus looking down upon the emerald stream Of the Canalazzo, Venice well may be Likened unto a sea nymph, half immersed ; Her marble splendors, mirrored clearly, seem Subaqueous palaces, by magic raised. CoSTANZA. Hark, music ! Look ! a liveried gondola ! COSTANZA. The Doge Foscari, with the ambassadors Of Florence ! That's Ridolfo sitting there. They call on Venice to ally with them Against Visconti, Milan's tyrant duke. Antonia. Another gondola of state ! Who is That handsome noble, sitting like a king Midst the red robed decemviri ? CosTANZA {eagerly). With eagle plume ? That's Carmagnola, girl ! — the bravest sword In Italy. I'd give my diamonds To see him rout the legions of that dwarf Who hath, through jealousy disgraced a man, The frontal jewel of his iron crown. His vis-a-vis is Mantua's lord ; they all Are, with Sienna, Naples, and Savoy, In league to humble goblin Filippo. Whom didst thou bow to then ? Antonia. Why ! seest thou not Nicolo's wife, in sable velvets clad ? She strives to catch thine eye. CosTANZA {drawing back proudly). Which she shall not. She's but the daughter of a merchant prince ; Nor can she, on her purse, though long it be, Climb to the height of a Pisani. COSTANZA. Antonia. Fie! Thou art as proud as Lucifer. CoSTANZA. Why, no ! There goes Felise, the fruitier's child, surnamed The little saint. I'll cast her this white rose ! She's of the citadini, yet deigns not To covet my low level. Go, my flower, A tribute to the lineage of truth ! [Casifs the rose to the Canalazzo. \Enter Orinzia Ziani, Carletta Zeno arid Ernesta Orso, ushered by a page. CoSTANZA. Carletta Zeno ! Didst thou condescend To leave Palazzo Ducale awhile 1 Thou, who art hands and eyes, and what not else. Unto the Duchess ? Ah ! Orinzia dear. The angels must have whispered in thine ear That we desired thy coming ! Antonia {leading Ernesta to Costanza). Knowst thou not Ernesta degli Orso, Costanz dear ? Costanza. Why ! we were " educande " four years past With the good nuns of Santa Leonor. COSTANZA. J Carletta Zeno. Now, saints defend us ! Here are two old friends, Moulding, with eager tongues, the first sweet links Of conversation's chain, — to clasp, at night. I'm in hot haste ; and if I seem abrupt, Friends, ye must pardon me. To-morrow eve The Duchess fetes Maria of Castile, Sad queen of Naples and of Arragon, Who incognito, journeys here to see Our far famed Venice. Thou, Costanza, shalt, Ere long receive thy summons. Costanza {haughtily). I received The notice, sent officially, this morn ; And tell thee, Zeno, I ivill not attend. I am informed that, in her retinue, The Duchess gives precedence to that vile Violante of Chiozza. She forgets I am Pisani — niece unto that man Who drove the Doria from Chiozza's port ; And when I walk behind that Violante, May I drop lifeless ! Antonia. Hush, Costanza, pray ! Orinzia Ziani {to Ajitonia). We met the Countess in the colonnade ; She promises to make her haughty girl Perform the Duchess' bidding — 8 COSTANZA. CosTANZA {laughing). i Nay, not she ! I Antonia. Aye, will she, Costanz ! All that know thee^ know That the soft music of thy mother's voice Disarms thy wrath — uncrowns thy stormy pride ; Thy love for her will never suffer thee To say her nay. CosTANZA {rising quickly to meet the Countess who blindly gropes her way). Ah ! hither comes my dove ! \embracing her. My dearest mother, how is this ? Didst thou, Unaided, climb the staircase by thyself? In this thronged palace, was there not a hand To offer guidance ? Where's that villain page, That giddy Paulo ? I will poniard him. Countess Adriana. Sweet daughter, why so wroth ? A child in years, Paulo grows weary of so much restraint. I bade him go and dance a furlano, To Guide's viol, in the court beneath. I scarcely need a guide, so well I know This labyrinthian pile. Thy anxious love O'errates my helplessness. \Ernesta puts a bouquet in her hand. Ernesta, dear. Where didst thou get this odorous bouquet ? COSTANZA. Ernesta. Without your palace, by the water stairs, A flower- vender moors her pretty barque; She watched us closely, as our gondola Swept up, and we arose to disembark ; Then, leaning o'er her fair and fragrant freight Of dewy loveliness, desired to know If the Pisani we proposed to see. And would we, for God's holy charity, Present to fair Costanza a bouquet With a petition hidden midst its leaves ? Countess Adriana. Mysterious, truly ! Dear Costanza, see What this strange votaress of Flora wills. Costanza {opening the note and reading). "That the sweet Signorina condescend. At such time as she thinketh fit, to grant An interview with gypsy Myrica, Who selleth flowers, at her palace gate." Countess. Who is she, daughter ? Costanza. I remember not. Doubtless of Heaven's heirs, the suffering poor. {To Ernesta). Can I behold her from this balcony ? lO COSTANZA. Ernesta. Oh, yes ! Come hither, I can point her out. See ! in the shadow of yon portico, Erectly standing in her restless barque A handsome woman, with her raven hair Bound by gold beading. Gypsy, did she say ? I might have read as much, in face and form And tasteful Oriental costuming. See how she woos the wayfarers to buy, Still keeping watch upon this balcony. She sees thee, Costanz, — recognizes thee ! — Didst thou mark that 1 Countess. Mark what ? What did she do ? Ernesta. Smiled mournfully and sweetly, and then bowed Gracefully low, her hands crossed on her heart. Co STANZA. Should she accost you when returning, say I'll see her, when the Campanile tolls For Vesper song. Carletta {rising). Come, friends we must away. Orinzia. We have already lingered here too long. COSTANZA. H Countess {entreatingly, as she rises). Say naught of my Costanza's ill resolve Unto the Duchess. The Pisani shall, In the radiant suite of her Serenity, Be represented by my wilful one To-morrow eve. Farewell, my friends ! CoSTANZA {laughing and bowing). Farewell ! Rely not on my Dove's fair promises. Antonia. May we soon meet ! Carletta and Orinzia {bowing). Addio, dear friends ! Ernesta. Addio ! [Exeunt three ladies with Antonia. {Costanza seats herself by the countess). Countess. In Nero's golden palace, it is said, Stood statues of the gods, which being approached By the apostate Christian, suddenly Would bend, embrace, and pierce him to the heart. Methinks that oft a wise and jealous God Thus arms the core of an excessive love ; The idol, on which trustfully we lean, Sends to the soul a point of steel. We start 12 COSTANZA. Rebuked, dismayed, with wounds that long shall bleed Or sink so stricken that we bleed to death. CosTANZA {gloomily). True ! lo, an instance ! — thine own bitter words That pierce me to the quick. Countess. Alas, my child, Bear with my love's repinings ! I would see Thy soul as faultless as the form through which It glows as light through a translucent gem ; But pride is its deep flaw. Ah, restless heart ! The aconus, when trodden, bleeds perfume j So thou the iron heel of woe shalt bruise That man may marvel at the virtue hid Midst thy serrated folds. CosTANZA {embracing the Countess). Ah, that low sigh Hath hushed the tempest ! Smile, my mother sweet, And I will humbly follow Violante ; As humbly hold the Duchess' velvet train, Lift up her kerchief, bear her vinaigrette, Smile when she smiles, and tremble when she frowns. What wouldst thou more of thy Costanza, say ? Countess. That she resemble more her Crucifix. Costanza. Oh ! in my storms, I turn it to the wall ; I do not dare to look upon the Wounds. COSTANZA. 13 The Sacred Model's mute and tender way Of chiding, is existent in the stone. Would I were like thee, mother ! — but we are As unlike as the falcon and the dove. Nature, thy spirit equable and mild Paints coolly on pure brow and violet eyes Soft shaded with bright hair of golden brown ; My restless nature, in the deeper dyes Of Italy's true daughters. — Restless ! — yea Were not my heart so anchored to thine own, I should be on the wing to far-ofif climes ; — Not by their beauty lured, but to assuage That sickening of the soul that seizes me In haunts grown trite, — in moments of repose, Urging me onward, anywhere, so on. Countess {weeping). Maria, shield my child ! CoSTANZA {rising). Hearken, a step ! Countess. I will retire, — my face is stained with tears. [Exit Countess, enter Myrica. COSTANZA. The gypsy Myrica, whom I, elsewhere. Have three times met, if memory fails me not ! Myrica {looking fixedly at Costanzd). Thirty times three times thou might'st have seen The gypsy Myrica, hadst thou so willed. 14 COSTANZA. CosTANZA {with curiosity). What can I do for thee ? Myrica {bending and clasping her hands). Signorina sweet, Grant me a service, in the Palazzo here ; I am ambitious, let me wait on thee. Costanza {coldly). I have attendants, faithful and well trained ; But few of thy strange race are schooled enough To serve a lady's toilet. Myrica {quickly). I could learn, For love's a wondrous master. Ah ! whose hand Should have a touch as tender as my own ! Costanza {looking up with proud surprise). Thou talk'st enigma ! Love's too warm a word On such slight warrant. 'Tis the flattery, perhaps, In use amongst thy people. Let me think ! — I have no vacant place ; but if thou need'st. There is my purse ; take it, and come again. Myrica {hurriedly and with clasped hands). Oh, do not say me nay ! I've thought of this, Until my hope hath built so high a tower. That its downfall would crush me. Give me naught Let me but gaze on thee, — and I am paid. COSTANZA. 15 CosTANZA {rising). Is this hyperbole, or passion ? Why, Thine eager eyes and nervous hands betray An earnestness I like not. Who art thou ? And what am I to thee ? How is it that I have inspired such love ? What enemy Of our great house employs thee ? for thou hast An end, scarce veiled, in view. Drop those bold eyes, And leave my presence ! Myrica. Thou'lt let me come again ? CoSTANZA. Should'st thou so dare, I'll have thee caged 'Neath bars that oft have held such birds before. Myrica {with sudden passion). Thou may'st yet rue those words. {To herself.) If there's a power Which doth compassionate heart agony, A power that checks the fatal words that love, Outraged and scoffed, sends prone unto the lips, Let it now keep me mute ! — I'll come again. CosTANZA {in excessive anger). A gypsy beggar dares to threaten me, Daughter of the Pisani ! Myrica {with equal dignity). Haughty girl ! With poisoned darts thy tongue hath stabbed my heart. l6 COSTANZA. Till love bleeds out, and falling turns to gall. What ! dost thou scoff the love that only craved To serve thy footstool ? More I now demand, — Thy love and service by the laws of heaven. Would'st thou then drive me forth from these grand halls ? Come forth with me, for they are thine no more. Aye, blanch and stare ; but hope not that thou hear A maniac's raving. That which I shall tell, I had intended but to breathe at death. And to no ear but thine. I would have borne, As thy last servant, chidings, scorn, — yea, blows, To daily gaze upon thy proud fair face. {laughing harshly)^ " Daughter of the Pisani ! " Nay, thou art The gypsy daughter of poor Myrica ! {Costanza falls back half fainting. Myrica throws herself on her knees at her side). Myrica. Oh, I have killed my child ! My sad heart's life ! Look up, my darling, — 'tis a falsehood all ; — Look on me but again, — I will go forth. And trouble thee no more. CosTANZA {speaking sloiuly, and zvith difficulty). No ! On thy lips Truth sits enthroned, armed with a bolt from Heaven. She oft so quietly asserts herself. That we dispute her presence ; but, at times, God doth imperiously unveil her face, COSTANZA. 17 And the soul shrinks, but dares make no appeal. Oh, do not kneel to me ! — Sit by my side And tell me all. / charge thee, tell me all. Myrica. All, love ! — then hark thou long and patiently. {Myrica pauses^ as though in thought, then speaks in an abstracted manner). Whence come the wild Zingani ? — Where their place Amidst the nations — wandering, weird, outlawed, By some divinely veiled, avenging doom ? The Present asks ; the Past replies, — " Unknown ! " Yet hath the gypsy his historic lore. Traditions to no alien ear revealed. Knowest thou the Lotus Land, an Eastern clime, Over whose shifting sands the silvery waves Of spirit-haunted Nilus scatter life > — Land of a mighty past, whose giant minds Inscribed on earth imperishable names ; Whose flight rose far as godless thought can fly ; And fell as low as godless thought must fall. Thence came our fathers, early called by God Through exiled Israel whom they would not hear. Deafened by intellectual pride, that throned . Them on the Pyramids to read the stars. And threw them prostrate to adore a leek. CosTANZA {moving restlessly, and covering her face with her hands). Oh, my sad soul ! Thou wanderest, Myrica ! I cannot follow, — tell me of myself. 1 8 COSTANZA. Myrica. There's wisdom in my wandering. Thou hast been Bred in ancestral pride, and wont to trace Thy line from some poor settler on the slime Of the Venetian marshes, — I can prove The fount that fills thy veins of older date By centuries, and of prouder, purer source. Ages ago, by far Pelusium stood The palace of Amenem, great high-priest To the sun god Raa, in Heliopolis. Gardens lay nigh it, shadowy, silent, cool, Gemmed by a lucid lakelet, in the midst Floating the lotus, neath o'er-arching palms. Unto their shelter, pale, exhausted, mute. One sultry eve, a blessed trio came From o'er the Petraean sands to seek repose. 'Twas the Child God upon Sitt Miriam's heart. And Joseph,— earth's celestial trinity. Ere long, here sauntered, in his silken robes. Haughty Amenem ; and he questioned them, — Chafed at the truths they told him, and in wrath Drove them forth fainting, and with blasphemy. At sunrise in the fanes of Mizraim Her gods lay shattered, trodden into dust , And wheresoe'er the high-priest turned perplexed, He met, in air, the glorious, princely eyes Of the Hebrew Infant. He, and all his house Became a scourge to the elect who found An altar in the Exiles' lowly shed ; Then fell the curse, akin to that of Cain, — Amenem and his sons were, suddenly. Seized with an irrepressible impulse To wander earth. — They wander it to-day. COSTANZA. 19 A tribe of this doomed people, sometime since, Was governed by Ganaker Faa, thy sire, My husband ; — and pray, mark, a gypsy king Must from Asoka trace a clear descent ; — Thou, if Zingani, art a princess, girl. CosTANZA (with fierce contempt). To the point, woman. — Pardon, Myrica. Myrica. He wished a son, but Heaven gave him thee, Born by the Moldau, in Bohemian wilds. We came to Italy ; our band encamped. Nigh to the Arno, — to a villa nigh That bore upon its gate the arms of those Who call thee daughter. To the river's brink A group of ladies came, one golden eve ; The loveliest blind, and mother to a babe Whose little rose-leaf hand she fondly held As it lay lightly on the nurse's arm. CoSTANZA. My dove ! My dove ! This blow will kill us both ! Myrica. Thy father marked the twain ; a wild design Possessed his subtle brain, — to lure the nurse Into the gypsy camp, and substitute His own fair infant for the noble child, — Then coin his daring into future gold. The deed was done. It rent my very soul To part thee, daughter ; but I might not breathe 2C COSTANZA. Nay to a man so stern, so violent. The Countess could not know her cruel wrong, — Not so the nurse. At length, by conscience prest, She her suspicion told unto the Count : She was not sure, she said, and perhaps with truth, The little ones were marvelously alike. The Count did all that man could do, — in vain ; His fear, withheld from the blind mother, died ; Thou grewest as the heiress of this house. CoSTANZA, (sharply). Where is this girl ? Myrica. Fear not ! She lives, and is With the nuns of Saint Anita. On my knees I vowed to Heaven, that I would treat her well. If God would wreak not on my child the sin Done to the sightless mother. Years passed on ; Ganaker died ; I hastened here, from Spain, All to reveal; I saw thee oft, and marked Thy pride of birth and wealth, the ardent love That bound thee to the Countess, — such a love As gypsy Myrica shall ne'er receive. CoSTANZA {bowing her head). O Jesus humbled ! Jesus most despised ! Myrica {kneeling at Costanza's side). Ah, my soul's own ! I've crushed thee to the earth But 'twas thy proud disdain that lashed me on. Why need'st thou droop ? The secret lies with us CO STANZA. 21 And none shall know it. Do not drive me hence; Blind Adriana loves thee not as I. I'll vow to thee, if thou dost so require, That none the secret hold — that none shall hear. COSTANZA. Oh, kneel not, Myrica!— forgive, as yet, I can not call thee by a fonder name. Remain with me — but hold thy secret fast ; I am confused — I need time to reflect. SCENE II. An apartmmt in the Palazzo Pisani. Costanza sitting with head inclined upon her hand. Enter Countess. Countess. Costanza here ? Costanza. Here only in the clay, Until she heard thy call. Countess. Come hither, child, And take this ottoman. Give me thine hand. And with mine heart I'll read thine upturned face. Knowest thou, Costanza, that thou art much changed ? It hath been marked by all, hwtfelt by me. 'Tis ennui with the Count ; Antonia 22 COSTANZA. Attributes it to an impress of grace. Thou shunnest pleasure — yea, — to sit and brood ; Thou art less haughty, and thou art less kind ; When thou dost speak to me, a broken chord Deepens thy voice ; thou murmurest in thy sleep — There's moisture on this cheek — love, is it tears ? CoSTANZA. That often flow of late. — Mother, I dread That thou shalt live to love Costanza less. Countess. Ah, Heaven hear her ! Was there ever yet A mother, who for any fault loved less The child she bore ? [^Enter Antonia. Antonia. I ask thy pardon, Aunt, But Mother Maddalena, to Count Silvio A cousin-german, craves to see you both. Countess. Indeed ! delightful ! I am pleased to see The gentle Abbess. Maidens, haste below And bring her hither. \Exeunt Costanza and Antonia. Enter Costatiza and Antonia accompanied by Mother Maddalena, and Sister Bianca. Countess. This is sweet surprise ! Why, Mother Maddalena, what hath brought Thee to fair Venice, from far distant Rome ? COSTANZA. 23 Mother Maddalena. Nay, not from Rome, dear cousin ; we are come From Florence. I, a fortnight gone, received A billet, from our bishop, to the effect That I resign my guardianship in Rome, For St. Anita, in gay Florence, where The term of its good abbess hath expired. CoSTANZA {laughing). And finding Florence overpraised took wing For our fair Venice ? Abbess {smiling). Worldling birds might give Such plea for their migrations : but with us The less to liking, — why, the more to grace. *Tis business wings me hither. I am come To crave a charity at your kind hands. Countess. Thou favorest us. 'Tis thine, if possible. Abbess. Arrived at St. Anita, I there found, Amidst the pensioners, a saintly girl, Whose history, I think Costanza knows ; For the nuns tell me that, these last few months She hath been there a frequent visitor, — Hath seemed to take much interest in the maid, Offering to portion her, when she shall be Admitted to profession. 24 COSTANZA. CosTANZA, {shortly). True, I did — And will make good my promise, when she's veiled. Countess. Thou didst not mention this to me, my child. CosTANZA, {carelessly). I thought the telling scarcely worth thy time. 'Tis a young girl sent, in her infancy, To St. Anita's nuns. There was, I think, A paper fastened to the foundling's robe To the purport that she was a gypsy's babe Whose wandering mother wished her taught the Faith And educated well. It promised that Remuneration should be yearly sent. Antonia. Thou sayest she is saintly ; — will she then Receive the veil ? CoSTANZA. Yea, she desires it much ; I know not why the nuns deny it her. Abbess. She is but young, and it is evident That watchful eyes are on her ; for, last year, A false report being bruited that she was As postulant received, the nuns were sent A warning to withhold from her the veil Until her twentieth year. She's eighteen now. COSTANZA. 25 Countess. How doth she look ? Abbess. In beauty lily-like, — There's naught of Arno's rose about the child ; All love to Heaven, all guileless truth to earth. Pure, simple, blithe as morning's golden beam ; Her joys are all in God — her sorrow, sin. St. Bianca. So great her prudence and docility, That Mother Maddalena hath resolved To admit her to the noviceship, as soon As she shall prove the pleasures of the world ; For, as she ne'er hath left our convent walls, We think it best, to try her call outside. Abbess. Therefore, dear Countess, I am come to beg That thou wilt take her 'neath thy wing awhile ; (I know how safe the morals of thy house,) Wilt thou permit her to remain with thee, — Well, say six months ; we'll be thy beadswomen For this, and other favors just as great. Countess. Oh, send her, most assuredly ! I fear That we shall learn to covet her, mayhap Be tempted to detain her from Our Lord. What says Costanza ? 26 COSTANZA. Antonia. Oh, good Heavens, Aunt, She's leaden white ! Costanza, art thou faint? CosTANZA {rising and groping her way out). Nay, do not fear — 'tis passing ! I will go Upon the balcony for fresher air. Countess. Antonia, our good Sisters doubtless need Refreshment and repose ; they've journeyed far. I'll see Costanza ; she alarms me much. SCENE III. Costanza ivalking hastily to and fro. Enter Myrica. Costanza. Go, lock the doors, my mother ! Lock them fast. And come to me ; my brain is fire — my heart As cold and hard as stone. Myrica {taking her hand and kissing it). At last, I hear The music that I've yearned for, half my life, — " My mother ! " Yea, my child, a mother fond With love rare even for maternity ! COSTANZA. 27 COSTANZA. She's here at last ! God's vengeance sends her here ! Uncalled for, lo ! she seeks her father's roof. How eagerly Count Silvio drank her tale, Measuring her with the Countess mentally ! Were not my heart so frozen, it would break ! I could forego his love ; but O my Dove ! If she supplants me there^ I'll poison her. Myrica {looking alarmed). I scarcely am a Christian ; still, I know God's open vengeance follows secret crime. Thou sufferest for thy father's sin, poor girl ; And peace will never come to thee, or me, Till we obey the inward monitor. CosTANZA {with irritation). Is this thy consolation, Myrica ! Begone ! Pray leave me, 1 am best alone ! — What canst thou know of the dread sacrifice Of which thou speakest in so light a tone ? Reverse of fortune I could bravely bear, The scoffs and scandal of time-serving friends j But to be loved no longer, or loved less By Countess Adriana, — there's the wound. Nay, nay, I'll keep the serpent in my soul, To cast it from me would uproot my life. Myrica. Maria hath not known a mother's love ; — Thou hast two^ fond enough to die for thee. Hush, some one knocks ! Take up that book and read. \Enter Maria. 28 COSTANZA. Maria. Signorina, I intrude, I fear. I fain would siiow to thee and Myrica My rosary of pearl, the Count's own gift. This golden crucifix the Countess gave. Myrica. As pure, as beautiful, O guileless one, Pray that thy mother's eyes may see thee yet. Costanza. I marvel that an earthly gaud can give Such childish pleasure to a would-be nun. Maria {smiling). Sweet signorina, I shall use it not, I will be poor as Jesus, if I can ; It shall adorn our Lady's sculptured form In the chapel of our cloister ; that is if Sweet mother Maddalena shall approve. Costanza. Thou earnest hither from the Countess then ? Maria. Yes, she communicates to-morrow morn, And bade me from the Gospel of St. John Read the Sixth Chapter, for she loveth much To meditate upon it. COSTANZA. 29 COSTANZA. Wast thou sent To Venice to read Scripture and to pray ? Methought thou earnest hither to read life. Maria. Am I too forward ? — for my fancy finds A chilling cadence, lady, in thy tones. I read of God in everything I see ; (kissing Costanza's hand)y He looks upon me from thy stern dark eyes, Chiding my too impulsive temperament, [Exit Maria. CoSTANZA. How beautiful she is, — simple yet wise, Reserved to all, yet tender still to me Who hate her ! girl, it is well for me The Countess cannot look upon thy face. Myrica {sadly). All lovers die, and love oft dies ere death ; Oh, it is well that unrequited love Can lay its inward yearnings before Him Who died, (thy faith so teaches, does it not ?) Thirsting for love, from hearts that would not give. Costanza. Alas, poor Mother ! God thy Teacher is. Seeing that none, not e'en thy daughter, hath A care for thy soul's soil rich but unsown. Hark, children's voices chanting ! See who sings. 30 COSTANZA. Myrica. Come to the casement, love, 'tis worth thy while ; All clothed in white and garlanded with flowers O'er the Rialto, comes a winding train Of pretty children like a flock of doves. CoSTANZA. Children of the Madonna, — and they go Unto St. Mark's for Benediction. Hark ! \^Enter a processio?i of children sifiging. Solo. O'er many a lofty mou?tt of pride, Through many a lowly vale of sin, O Soul, I followed, at thy side O Soul, I tried thy love to wiji ! Chorus. O Patient Love, thy peace impart I The wandering dove turns to Thy Heart. Its Foutit shall wash her pinions white ; Its fires shall yield her warmth and light. CoSTANZA {turning impulsively to Afyrica). Heard'st thou the soloist that led the song ? God calls to my sad soul by that sweet voice ! Solo. Thoti shranlzst aside with fear and frown. Preferred^ st the robber, Sin, to Me. I sought the Cross, afid laid me down, And died, O Soul, for love of thee. COSTANZA. Chorus. O Patiefit Love, thy peace impart I The wandering dove turns to Thy Heart. Its Fount shall wash her piniojis white^ Its fires shall yield her warmth and light. CosTANZA {embracing her mother). God speaks to my sad soul by that sweet voice ! Myrica. And with the chorus, let thy soul reply : " The wandering dove turns to Thy Heart." CoSTANZA, {goi7ig to an escritoire). My mother, in a grace of good resolve, 1, sometime since, unto Count Silvio wrote This letter.— Take it to him, it will tell All that he should so long ago have known. I'll to St. Mark's; for the Blest Lips that said : " Baptise all nations,^' added, to the Twelve : " Whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven,:'' 31 SCENE IV. Florence.— An apartment in the Villa of the Pisani. Maria and her mother, Maria. Thy gentle face, my mother, wears again Its olden look of sweet serenity. 32 COSTANZA. Countess. Prayer is an opiate to the fevered soul, Mine own Maria ; and my mind hath grown Calmer and clearer ; 'twas at strife for days ; Like a storm-shrouded sky, whose veils the sun Rends with his golden arrows, joy and woe Strove for the mastery. Silvio, — the Count Will then return, soon as thou shalt apprise Him of mine enlightenment and willingness. Tell me the tale again ; my wonderment Caught not the minor details when first told. Maria. I knelt before my crucifix, my heart Calm, dearest mother, but most desolate, Sickened, so sickened of the hollow scenes The world calls festive, — so unhinged, astray, Lacking the simple Rule that marked the hours Of convent life, that, with a bitter peace, I could but sigh, " Thy Will is ever mine! " Antonia was, despite reserve, most kind ; Costanza, cold, repellant to disdain, Embittered, as I thought, by secret woe. These were my sorrows, when a footfall light Aroused me ; 'twas Costanza, bathed in tears. She knelt beside me, — bade me ask of God Great grace of charity, then told me all. Poor Myrica had with my father been, Had sought his pardon for her share of wrong ; Costanza had been summoned, — he had shown Her greater love, than e'er through life before ; And it had been determined that the Count Should travel, for a year, through France and Spain, COSTANZA. 33 Accompanied by Costanza. I, meanwhile, Was to attend thee ever, win thy lov^e, And cautiously, at length, divulge the truth ; And now, my mother, if thou wilt dictate, I'll write the wanderers and recall them home. Countess (peeping). O yes, this very eve ! I'm glad to know That Silvio was so tender to the child. Maria. She is to share your hearts, your home, your wealth, As though by nature, what she is by love, A tender daughter. Countess, O most certainly ! And thou long lost one, thou wilt stay with us ? Maria {turning her face away). Would'st thou detain me, if God called me hence ? Countess {sadly). Methinks that I could make the sacrifice, Could I, my daughter, look upon thy face. But soft, Maria ! Some one sings ! — the voice So like Costanza's richly dulcet tones, Thrills me to agony. Alas ! who sings. \Enter Costanza and Myrica in gypsy costume, {Costanza sings). Solo. JTve wandered long from my home afar ; Tm weary of soul, and the sad tear starts ; 34 COSTANZA. I yearn to rest where my treasures are, — Oh take me back to your loving hearts I Have you thought of me, iti the olden halls ? Did one, for her gypsy wanderer yearn ? My hungry heart for your welcome calls. Your voices haunt me, — / return ? Countess {rising from her chair, and then falling back excitedly). Who sings, Maria ? Oh ! for love of Heaven Hence to the lawn, and see who sang that song ! \Enter Antonia weeping, followed by Costanza and Myrica. CosTANZA (sings). " I've wandered long from my home afar,'' etc. Countess. Costanza ! O Costanza, come to me. {They embrace weeping). Countess {feeling Costanza' s apparel). How is she robed ? Maria, what is this ? How doth she look ? Ah, is she altered much "i Alas ! alas ! I cannot see her face. Costanza. My dove ! my dove ! I see thee once again ! Maria, hast thou watched her with all care ? Countess. Nay, the pet name, once music to my ears I must forego. Call me thy mother, child. 35 COSTANZA. Maria, greet thy sister ! Where's the Count ? Where's Myrica ? O would that I could see ! Myrica. The Count is in the garden seeking thee ; They told us, at our coming, thou wert there. Signora, — Angel ! — Pardon me and mine As Christ hath pardoned. Countess. Myrica, arise ! A thought of blame hath never stained my soul. I love thee, woman ! Art thou not akin To my Costanza ? Myrica. Joy sweeps o'er my soul As though its floodgates 'neath the Throne of God Had overflowed, yet am I left one pang. Oh I have pilgrimed o'er each sacred spot Sealed by the Precious Blood in Holy Land, Have prayed where'er the relics of the Blest Have spoken secrets to the listening soul. Oh I have wept and prayed, have fasted, watched, Calling from morn to eve on Mary's name That thou, blind since the birthday of thy child, Might'st look, once more, upon her face, — and lo ! My sins have kept the Lord from hearkening. Antonia {smiling). Pray on, dear Myrica ! Oh this hath been My prayer for years, (indeed I owe it her). But knew not that thou wast associate. o 6 COSTANZA. Pray on, and when Our Lady shall obtain For Aunt that grace of sacrifice, which she Stood robed in crimsonly, when on the Mount She offered up her Son, attd such a Son, — That sacrificial grace may give her sight. Countess {raising her eyes to heaven). O Source of Joy, Thou hast denied me naught, And askest now but that which honors me ! Maria, come to me. Kneel at my feet. Take her, O Spouse of Virgin souls ! Thou lovest To feed amidst the lilies — take my flower ! No longer shall my love oppose Thy right. {To Myrica). O noble woman, wilt thou not partake This grace of generosity, and share With me thy daughter's heart, and dwell with us In equal rank and right, a friend through life ? {Places her hands over her eyes and becomes silent) O God ! O loving God ! Behold, I see ! END. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 102 794 7 SADLIER'S EXCELSIOR SERIES or ILLUSTRATED GEOGRAPHIES AND READERS. Excelsior Geography, Number One. Excelsior Geographj', Number Two. Excelsior Geography, Number Three. Excelsior Introduction to Geography (for large schools requiring a book between Nos. i and 2). ( T/iis series comprises Physical, Descriptive, Historical, Comparative, Topical, and Ajicient Geography) Excelsior First Reader. Excelsior Fourth Reader. Excelsior Second Reader. Excelsior Filth Reader. Excelsior Third Reader. Excelsior Sixth Reader. Excelsior Child's Script Speller. Excelsior Spelling Book. SCHUSTER'S BIBLE HISTORY, translated by Mrs. J. Sadlier. NE\V DRAMAS, By the Authoress of " Sj'lvia," " Miriam," " Little Golden hair," "The Sisters of Alhama," and other Dramas. COLUMBIA ELECT AND FREE. C03TANZA. SILVER SPRAY, OR LIFE IN FAIRY-LAND. EXCELSIOR GRAUD MAPS. {Any Map sola separately,) The Hemispheres, United States, Mexico, and Canada, Europe, .... South America, Asia, Africa, ..... World — Mercator's Projection, Complete Set (Seven Numbers). 42 X 52 42 X 52 42 X 52 42 X 52 42 X 52 42 X 52 42 X 52 WILLIAM H. SADLIER, Publisher, 11 Barclay St., N. Y. %