/ UTlrisLi/i/vcuyt/ , IK 3 r/ k^ Book^ZJ i\%7 A. few- copies of tlxi.s Flay Kave beeix pi'iixted, aiad. are to be sold, to IManager's only. PRICE ONE DOLLAR. ~^^t^m^* OiW'? xM md till Jlilliwi, A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS, y ALPHONSE A. ROUX, Author of " Louise Necker," a Comedy — " Love and Eoveiige," a Drama — "Major Peacock," a Farce, &c., &c. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by Ai.phonsf. A. Kot;x, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the ITnited States for the Southern District of New York. T^r^ t) J' .V NEW YORK : H^^^MIXJEIL, FRENCH No. 122 Nassau Street. .^^ //A^J PERSONS OF THE DRAMA. THE GRAND DUKE OF MILAN. JOSEPH D'ARPINAS, his favorite courtier. ANGELO DELLA PERGOLA, Knight of Malta. MICHAEL ANGELO CARRAYAGGIO, Painter and Sculptor. STEFANO, his younger brother. DAVERNA, ^ > Milanese Noblemen, Carravaggio's enemies. SPINELLI, S LUDGI, Captain of the Grand Duke's Guards. BOMBA, a Painter, President of the Judges. GOBI, T } Painters. GAMBATTI, 5 SOLDI, •) > Ushers to the Grand Duke. LEO, 5 MARIA LEONTIA, niece and adopted daughter to the Grand Duke, BEATRICE, her nurse. Lords, People, Judges, Soldiers, etc. THE SCENE LIES IN MILAN, 1597-1595). I N. B. — Charles S. Bernard «fe Co., 486 Broadway, New York, are the agents to negotiate for the privilege of producing this play. TMP9t)-0C6741 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. ACT I. Carravaggio's Studio — a large room; a pmjecling closet in the middle^ a windoio and door at left, a door at right ; ^jawi^- ings, chairs, <^6'. (^A knock at the door is heard.) Daverna. [Entering.] No answer, so there is no indiscretion. [Ente^'S and closes the door behind him.] At last I am in the sanc- tuary that has so long been closed to me ! It is true that I have more than once caused Carravaggio to regret saying that I was no judge of paintings ; my satires have been most successful ; still I admire the works of the worthy successor of divine Kaphael. [Admiring the paintings.] What a number of master i)ieces — and unfinished ! The very canvass breathes beneath his brush. Enter Stefano, mournfully. Stefano. [Without seeing Daverna.] They refuse to give us credit any more ! It is a pity ! The confectioner's cakes looked very inviting ! How hard, at my age, to have to eat dry bread for breakfast. What ! a man here ! My brother forbade me to let any one enter this room excepting his fair unknown. Daverna. Why ! it is little Stefano ! Stefano. You here, Signor Daverna ! — Who allowed you to enter ? Daverna. I knocked, received no answer and walked in. Stefano. Depart, signer, depart ; go elsewhere to insult with your infamous satires my brother's genius Daverna. Come, silence, little embryo, just from the cradle. Stefano. You — a man — should blush at receiving lessons from a child. Your conduct towards my brother is unworthy of an honest man. Daverna. Take care, beardless boy ! ■* THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. • Stefano. [Ironicallj/.] Oh ! you need not look so fierce. You do not frighten me. Daverna. [Smiling.] I do not wish to frighten you. I know you are brave for your age. Stefano. I will prove it in a few years, when I shall be able to handle a sword ; in the meanwhile, depart, you, who never cease pursuing my brother with your bitter and unjust criticisms ; you, who dare to write that Carravaggio is but a miserable daub ! Daverna. Yes, I say so to wound to the quick your brother's pride, for he feared not to wound mine, but I secretly render justice to him. Stefano. Leave, insolent and vile scribbler, for I cannot control my anger ! Daverna. Stefano, your youth and your love for your brother may excuse your insults, but repeat to him that his pride will make him lose even to his last friend. Adieu ! [Ex4t Daverna. Stefano. [Alone.] They accuse my brother of pride because he will not stoop to flatter the powerful and wealthy. [A Jlourish of trumpets heard.] What means this? [Goes to the window.] It is the Grand Duke's herald. (Herald heard outside.) " In the name of his Highness the Grand Duke of Milan, the " exhibition of paintings and statues will close to-morrow. The " names of those who bear off the prize will be proclaimed to the " people, and the victors will be conducted in triumph to the grand " hall of the Palace, where his Highness the Grand Duke will " crown them and inscribe their names on the Golden -Book of the " Nobility of Milan." People. [Outside.] Bravo ! Bravo ! {Flourish of trumpets — cries, hravo ! bravo ! ) Enter Carravaggio. Carravaggio. I heard a voice that was unknown to me. "Who was here ? Stefano. [Aside.] I fear lest I should anger him by saying it was his detractor. [Aloud.] The stranger wdio just left was a foreign amateur. Carravaggio. Has he discovered ? Stefano. What? Carravaggio. [Going to the closet and feeling lock ; aside, joy- fully.] No! no! [Comes doion in front.] Were you absent when he came ? Stefano. I had gone to buy our breakfast. Carravaggio. I am not hungry. Stefano. [Aside.] That's fortunate for him. but not for me. THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. O Carravaggio. Had you been here you would not have allowed him to awake me. Stefano. Then go to sleep again. [Stefano takes a. chair, sits doion beside Jds brother, whose head he lays on his shoidder.] Carravaggio. I am no longer sleepy-. Stefano. Yet you worked all night. Brother, husband your strength, I beseech you, for your sake as well as for mine. What would become of me if you were taken ill ? Your enemies accuse you of spending your days in idleness and your nights in debauch. Can they not see your pale and careworn brow, the result of your midnight labors ? Ah ! had you not forbidden me to speak Carravaggio. [Embracing him tenderly.] Oh ! you are my guar- dian angel ! Stefano. [Accentuating.] So you say, because I love you. This is what I should tell your calumniators : Do you not kuow^ that my beloved brother, since his return to Milan, has gained more than a hundred ducats by carving, in secret, little statuettes, that I am obliged to sell for quarter their value to old Solomon Dorcas, the antiquarian ? Carravaggio. Fortunately he keeps my secret ! No one thinks I am the sculptor of these statuettes. Stefano. No one — you are known as a painter, but not as a sculptor, and I, I, your brother, the natural confidant of your thoughts, I myself do not know what that closet contains. A statue, I suppose, for I saw some costly marble brought in, but as yet you have not touched a chisel in my presence ; you work by night, and lock the doors, like an alchemist distilhng poisons. I do not reproach you with it — but come, candidly, what is that statue — is it copied from your jDicture of St. Cecilia, that is such a likeness to the fair unknown ? Would you join the glory of a .great sculptor to that of a great painter? God only knows what hopes I had based on this idea. Alas ! to-morrow the exhibition will be closed, and perhaps your statue is yet unfinished. Carravaggio. [ Who has taken a statuette from a draicer.] Child ! why such wild hopes ? [Embraces him.] Go to Solomon Dorcas and offer him this statuette. Stefano. W^hat ! is this the result of your midnight labors ? Faith, I was nuwilling to say so, but it appears to me that for some time past sculpture has made you forget painting. Never mind ! thanks to your work, we will be wealthy for two weeks ! Carravaggio. With economy. Stefano. If you find fault 'with your steward, you need only discharge him ! [Looking at the statuette.] A statuette of St. Peter ! heavens ! what pretty little keys — they'll open us the gates of Paradise, I am sure. Oh ! if you would but send that statue — [points to the closet] — to the exhibition. [Carravaggio shakes his 6 THE ARTIST AND THE KOBLEMAN. • head.] You still have no confidence in your talent. It is a great pity. What a chance you'll have missed. But will you not ex- hibit the picture Carravaggio. [Interntpting Mm.] Come, speak not of this, do you hear ? Leave me — I wish to be alone. Stefano. ^Aside.] Impossible to discover anything. \^Aloud.\ I am off for Solomon's, and will soon return. Carravaggio. It is useless ; keep the money, pay our debts, and visit the exhibition. Stefano. [^Aside.] A likely story ! I leave my poor brother fast- ing ! he is thin enough already. [Aloud.] Come, kiss your little steward. [Carravaggio kisses him.] Good bye, brother — good bye. [E.vit Stefano. Carravaggio, alone. He, too, speaks of it ! Doubtless 'tis a fine chance I lose, but though I am still master of my painting, the statue is no longer mine. To-morrow there will be two happy men in Milan — the two successful candidates who, by unanimous consent, will be pro- claimed the Princes of Art. And I, Michael Angelo Carravaggio, am / not envious ? There are artists whose fate it is to struggle eternally against obscurity and misfortune — perhaps I am one of these ! There are madmen, who take for genius their loathing for the humble trade of their fathers — am I one of those madmen ? [Sits doum and reflects. Enter Leontia and Beatrix, hidden in veils and cloaks. Leontia. Angelo ! Carravaggio. You here, Leontia ? . Beatrix. Against my advice, however. Leontia. Yes, good Beatrix, you came because I wished you to ; now keep watch, lest we be interrupted. [Exit Beatrix, and the door remains half open. Carravaggio. What can have happened? A month without seeing you — a century ! Leontia. My uncle, my adoptive father, was ill — I was ever at his bedside — besides, since we last met, I feared my uncle con- cealed a secret from me — he suspects, perhaps. Oh ! were he to know ! Carravaggio. You would be lost, would you not ? Leontia. Alas ! Carravaggio. Then why return hither — why not endeavor to forget so dangerous a love ? Oh ! while it is still time, separate your destiny from mine. I will return to you, my betrothed, the ring we exchanged in our moments of rapture — leave me, forget me ! Leontia. Have I wounded you, Angelo ? THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. / Carravaggio. No, but T have the pride of an artist. It is most painful to me when I see you suffering on account of my love ! Leontia. What have- 1 done that you should shrink thus ? I only expressed what I feared, but you are far more cruel to destroy all my hopes. Carravaggio. Well! I will tell you all, even were you to think me still more cruel. The Grand Duke, your adoptive father, con- ceals a secret from you ; you were right. I will reveal it : he wishes to wed you to the nobleman and artist, Joseph D'Arpinas ! Leontia. Heavens ! is it possible ! Carravaggio. It is the talk of all Milan. Ah! I would have guessed it by the hatred I bear him ! Leontia. But this marriage shall not take place. The Grand Duke has the right to refuse my hand to my lover, but he cannot compel me to wed another ! Ah ! whatever may happen, you or the cloister, I swear it ! Our love is pure, I can pray for it with- out blushing ; and when your fame will reach me in my sohtude, when I hear your works praised and your name glorified, I shall think proudly : It was I who understood him the first, and I am the first woman he loved. Carravaggio. Yes, the first and the last ! Ah I Leontia, may- heaven bless you ! — you, the angel who inspires and consoles me. To-day, more than ever, my heart was filled with discouragement and bitterness ; at the sight of you, all has changed. I know not what the future has in store for me as an artist, but you love me ! Loved by you, Leontia, I cannot but succeed ! Leontia. You will ! Where is the St, Cecilia ? Carravaggio. The statue or the painting ? Leontia. The statue. Carravaggio. Ah ! speak not of the copy whilst I kneel to the model ! [Kneels.'] Leontia. [Making him rise.] Will you not send it to the exhi- bition ? Carravaggio. No, for I made it for myself alone. I desired your portrait, Leontia — something to which I might speak of you, when not beside me — an imperfect likeness, but one that would not leave me ! When I commenced my work, the Grand Duke had pro- claimed throughout Europe the exhibition ; St. Cecilias were dreamed of by every artist. I carved you as St. Cecilia, without other thought, I assure you, but that of possessing your hkeuess; and, besides, I never forgot that terrace in Venice, where, at night, you sang, accompanying yourself on the harp. I wished to carve in marble the most charming of my recollections — my idol is there, in that closet, as in a sanctuary, nor will it ever be removed ! After what took place in Venice, exhibiting your statue would pro- claim our love. I, an unknown artist, am admitted to none of THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. those festivals where the great and happy of Milan alone may aloue gaze on you unveiled. It would say to them : She came to my dwelling — and if the Grand Duke Leontia. Alas ! Carravaggio. And besides, as there are so many obstacles to our marriage, what would become of me if deprived of her and of you?. Oh ! do not laugh at my folly ! I love that statue, not as an artist loves his work, but as a lover adores his mistress ! and now that it is nearly finished, now that it is like liesh and blood, I tremble in its presence as I would in yours ! — there is a defect in the arm that holds the lyre, a defect that three blows with a chisel would cor- rect, but I dare not touch it ! — it appears to me as if the statue breathed, and as if the blood would How ! Pity me ! yesterday, at twilight, I was kneeling to it — 1 heard divine sounds coming from the lyre — it seemed to step down from its pedestal. Leontia. [SmilmgJ] So I have a rival ? Carravaggio. No — a sister. Leontia. [Going tovmrds the closet.'] Then show me my sister. Carravaggio. Stay ! stay — T speak with enthusiasm, and then I suddenly despair. I doubt not but you will find in it as many im- perfections as I imagine there are beauties. I have not quite fin- ished it, so pray do not laugh at me. Hold ! — it is not for you to lift the veil — do not place reality so near to fiction, art and life beside fancy ! — to examine my statue in your presence, would but discourage me. Leontia. You mistrust 3'our genius, Angelo, and by the love you bear me, I implore you to show me your statue. Carravaggio. You wish it — you exact it — I obey. [Touches a sjrring, the closet opens, and St. Cecilia is perceived on her pedestal — a pause — Leontia draws the curtain — a 2^ause.] Leontia. Oh! Carravaggio. Well ? Leontia. [Throwing herself in his arms.\ You must send this statue to the exhibition to-day — at once ! Carravaggio. Leontia, remember that Liza del Giocundo was dishonored when Leonardo da Yinci painted all the Madonnas in her image. Leontia. [After having again admired the statue.] Shame on me, if, by my guilt, this masterpiece remained unknown ! It must be seen, you must triumph ! even were I to be cursed — even were I to be dishonored ! Carravaggio. A little glory in exchange for your honor ? Never ! never ! Leontia. But I know not what I say ; your love would honor a queen. [Admires the statue.] You are right ! she breathes — she speaks ! Oh ! noble Angelo, great artist, 1 will be worthy of you, 1 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. 9 I swear it ! I will fear nothing; the Grand Duke has now strength enough to listen to me, I will have strength enough to speak ! Carravaggio. I said, Leontia, that I consented to send my pic- ture to the exhibition, but no profane eye shall criticise the statue ; it is mine alone. Leontia. I will obtain the Grand Duke's permission, and you will not resist my prayers. Adieu, great artist, a double crown will be placed to-morrow on your noble brow ! [Exit, Imrriedly ; Carravaggio locks the door after lier.^ Carravaggio. [Alone.'] Ah ! it is love's judgment I have just heard! — how different, perhaps, from that of the crowd! — the crowd ! — oh ! my statue, the other half of my love, gazed on by the crowd ! No ! never. \Slmts the closet^ hurriedly. \ {Knocking at door.) [Carrivaggio opens the door — Enters Stefano. Stefano. Why you were locked in I [Looks around.] Why do you lock yourself in when alone ? Carravaggio. [Angrily.] AVhy have you returned so soon ? Did I not tell you to go to the exhibition ? Stefano. The doors were not yet open. Carravaggio. You should have waited. Stefano. Why scold me ! look ! — [Throios a handful of gold on the taUe.] — and our debts and breakfast paid ! [Places meals on table.] Carravaggio. Gold ! Stefano. Yes, we are rich ! Look at the bright new ducats, bearing the Grand Duke's eflBgy — the Grand Duke is very hand- some on gold ! — twelve ducats, no less ! Carravaggio. Who gave them to you ? Stefano. Gave? [Pro7iMy.] My dear Angelo, your skilful stew- ard sold, for a round sum, St. Peter and those j^retty Uttle keys that were to open us the gates of Paradise. Carravaggio. What ! Did that old wretch Solomon Stefano. He ! draw from his entrails twelve ducats at once ! — it is much less of a miracle. This is the whole story : I was carrying your statuette when I met two strangers, a young and an old one; both stopped and examined your work. The old one admired your St. Peter, and the young one criticised and found fault with every- thing ; I would have beaten him, had I dared ! Carravaggio. What did he say ? Stefano. Oh ! he was very severe ; his companion continually re- peated, but, but — at length he gave so many good reasons that the young man was convinced and asked the artist's name. I told him it was a secret ; he gave me his purse, which I took, without counting the contents, for I saw the-glitter of gold ! Carravaggio. That trifle was not worth twelve ducats. 2 10 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. 1 Stefano. Should I have refused them ? Not I ! I'm too smart for that ! Carravaggio. [Smiling.] The success of this statuette is per- haps a good omeu Stefano. [Sli/ly.] For that of St. Cecilia ? Carravaggio. How do you know I car\-ed a St. Cecilia ! Stefano. [Winking.] Oh! I guessed it! So you would exhibit a statue and a painting? Carravaggio. Patience ! to-night you shall know all ; in the meantime, I'll give my painting the finishing touch ! [Exit hy right. Stefano, alooie. " Patience !" I'm to know all to-night I It appears my brother is more ambitious than I thought ! — to exhibit a statue and a paint- ing ! the deuce ! — no one ever heard of such a thing ! So that closet contains a St. Cecilia ! But why did he carve it so secretly '? He was in such a huriy to finish his painting that he forgot all about his breakfast ! VVell, I am possessed of a better memory ! [Sits down and eats.] I dropped in at the confectioner's and had only to show him a ducat for him to give me credit again ; his cakes are better than usual this moniing ! [Knocks at the door.] A knock ! perhaps some parasite, if so, I'll make sure of my broth- er's mince pies, at all events ! [Covers dinner iip.] Come in ! [Enter Ludgi and some unarmed soldiers.] Stefano, Ludgi, Soldiers — aftenmrds Carravaggio. Ludgi. By order of the Grand Duke, where is Michael Angelo Carravaggio ? Stefano. [Calling.] Brother! brother! Carravaggio. What do you wish, signer? Ludgi. [Handi7ig him a jjarchment.] Eead! [While Carravag- gio reads.] You have a statue ready for the exhibition — the Grand Duke has sent me hither for it. Carravaggio. A statue ! — [Mournfully.] — A statue ! [Goes to the closet and finds it locked.] You are wrong, Signer, it is not a statue, but a painting I intended for the exhibition. Come, I will show it you. [Goes to right.] Ludgi. I am not mistaken ; the statue is in that closet. [Tries to touch the spring, Carravaggio prevents him.] Carravaggio. The statue is not intended for the exhibition. Ludgi. It is a St. Ceciha. Carravaggio. Perhaps; but I have no account to render to any but myself for my caprices. Ludgi. But I am responsible to the Grand Duke for the manner in which I discharge my duty, and, I assure you, I will not leave without the statue. THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. 11 Stefano. \^Aside.\ If I had as much strength as good will, I would make him leave quick enough. Ludgi. You hesitate? Well, I repeat, I will not leave without your statue. Carravaggio. \IronicaUy.] Even were it the property of an- other ? Ludgi. Whatever price you have been offered for it, the Grand Duke will pay you double. Carravaggio. [Ironically.] And my word ? Ludgi. The Pope can release you from it. Carravaggio. [Ironically.'] Sign or, you are speaking to a poor artist who thinks otherwise of questions of honor. Ludgi. The Grand Duke will no longer allow masterpieces to leave his states j your statue was carved in Milan, to Milan it shall belong. Carravaggio. Ah ! Signor, I swear by my mother's ashes that shall not be. Stefano. Brother, I beseech you, do not be so passionate. Ludgi. Enough. I have hesitated too long ; the Grand Duke's wishes are orders — [Tliroios down a jnirse.] — Here is gold. Carravaggio. I despise your gold ! [Throtvs j^urse out of the loindoio.] Ludgi. Never mind ! now this statue belongs to the Grand Duke. Soldiers, seize it ! [The soldiers advance.] Carravaggio. We shall see ! [ Takes a hammer and rushes he- hind the closet. Stefano follows his example and stands before it.] Stefano. Back! [Waves his haminer .] Carravaggio. [Behind the closet., utters a cry of despair, the breaking of the statue is heard, the door opens and he is seen stand- ing on the remains of it — furious.] — Strike now, and murder the artist on the remains of his work ! [Ironically.] There, take it, carry it off! [Falls fainting in his brother'' s arms, loho lays him on a sofa.] Stefano. Brother! brother! Ludgi. [Aside.] I cannot fathom this mystery. [To soldiers.] The painting is in the next room, take it and leave by the back door. [Exeunt soldiers.] I must send for a physician and report to the Grand Duke. [Exit following the soldidrs. Stefano. Angelo ! brother — dear brother Carravaggio. [Reviving.] Leontia! — where am I? — how heavy my head feels ! I have slept, no doubt. Ah ! what awful dreams ! what has happened ? I cannot recollect — am I still dreaming ? — am I mad ? Stefano. Brother, what ails you ? You look at me so wildly — you terrify me ! Carravaggio. [Wildly.] Who are those men ? Stefano. We are alone — it is I, Stefano, your brother. 12 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. Carravaggio. No, see those men — there — there — [In a whisper.] — hide me; hide me — they have come to arrest me — they are sbiri. Stefano. Brother! Carravaggio. [Changing Ms tone.'] Leontia ! You know — she returned hither — her eyes sparkled, as she looked at me saying, come ! come ! — and I, wishing to conceal her from all, I took the hammer and then — then — [Smiling.] — I killed her ! Stefano. Leontia ! Carravaggio. [Smiling.] Yes, Leontia! [Wildly.] St. Cecilia! I know not which ; but was it not a crime, a great crime ? I should have pitied her, should I noti She was so beautiful! Stefano. Angelo ! — brother ! yon are dreaming ! Carravaggio. Yes, weep ! weep ! My fury has respected none but my Stefano. [Presses him convulsively in his arms.] May Providence judge betwixt us ! Death to the murderer ! Death to the sacrilegious wretch ! Strike down the lover who killed his mistress ! Strike down the father who took his child's life ! [Falls hack exhausted.] Enter Pergola, Leontia and Beatrice. Leontia. Angelo ! good news ! I have seen the Grand Duke, and told him all — [Seeing him faint.] — What do I see ! Pergola. Stefano, what ails your brother ? Stefano. Look ! [Points to the broken statue.] Leontia. Oh ! I understand ! [Aside.] Poor Angelo ! I shall never have love enough to compensate for his sacrifice. [Wishes to draio near him.] Beatrice. I beseech you, Signora, allow me to watch over Signor Carravaggio. Pergola. I see a broken statue, but I cannot understand Stefano. My brother has fainted, for he thinks he has killed Sig- nora Leontia, when he broke the statue. Leontia. Alas ! am I cause of his misfortune ? What shall I do? [Clasjnng her hands.] heaven, inspire me! — a sublime inspiration ! — conceal those fragments, replace the pedestal ! Come, Beatrice. [Both go behind the closet.] Stefano. 1 cannot understand Pergola. But I can Carravaggio. [Dreaming.] Leontia — dead — St. Cecilia — dead — both — both dead ! [Pergola hides the fragments and Stefano runs to his brother.] Stefano. I understand new. Pergola. [Hiding the fragments.] By the Cross of Malta, I think we'll do a miracle ! Stefano. Brother, brother, Leontia still lives, the statue is not broken. THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. 13 Carravaggio. [Starting.] Leontia still lives ! — and St. Cecilia ? Who said she was not dead ? Slefano. I, your beloved brother, your Stefano. Carravaggio. You ! It is false, false ! I killed her I Pergola. What ! do you doubt my word, I, Angelo Delia Per- gola, Knight of the Order of Malta ! Carravaggio. [Draioing his hand over his brow as if to remevi- ber.] Pergola ! Angelo Delia Pergola ! my friend ! Pergola. Himself, in person. Carravaggio. [Drawing his hand over his hroic] Yes — my friend Pergola — his words are not false Pergola. [Aside. \ They should not be ! Carravaggio. [To Pergola.] Friend, your arm, lead me to St. Cecilia — yonder — no, there. [Points to closet.] Pergola. With pleasure; but you must promise me to be calm and master your emotion. Carravaggio. Yes, yes, I will try. [They ajjproach the closet.] Stefano. [Opens it.] Brother, behold your statue ! [Leontia dressed as St. Cecilia is seen behind a gauze.] Carravaggio. [Leaning on Pergola a7id Stefano. J Yes, it is she ! How beautiful she looks ! What a masterpiece I fancied I had destroyed ! Let me look at her nearer — she breathes — she speaks ! Oh ! conceal her ! quick ! — the Grand Duke would purchase and compel me to sell it — he would seize, and I will keep it for myself alone ! Oh ! shut the door, for I am jealous of my work. [Falls back almost faint ing . [Pergola and Stefano lay him on the sofa.] Pergola. [Aside.] The miracle commences. Carravaggio. [In delirium.] Leontia — then was it you I killed ? Pergola. [Aside.] The miracle is not yet done ! Carravaggio. Yes, yes, it was her ! Pergola. No, for you will soon see her once more. Carravaggio. Can it be ? Pergola. I am a Knight of the Order of Malta. Stefano. [Throioing himself in Carravaggio's arms.] Brother, brother ! Carravaggio. Stefano, my Stefano ! [Embraces him loildly.] But where is Leontia ? Leontia. Here I am, my Angelo ! [Falls at his feet.] Carravaggio. St. Ceciha ! Leontia. Do you not know your Leontia ? Carravaggio. Leontia — in my arms — Leontia, my love ! Oh ! it is you ! But where is St. Cecilia ? Leontia. [Points to closet.] She is there. Carravaggio. Oh ! yes, yes, I saw her. [Pressing her in his arms.] Oh ! my Leontia ! my guardian angel ! Pergola. The miracle is done ! [Tableau. 3 (Curtain falls.) 14 THE ARTIST AND THE N0BLE3IAX. ACT II. A hall in ths Grand Duke^s palace. Enter Ludgi, preceded hy musicians and folloxoed hy an escort — they cross the stage from right to left and go to balcony at hack. {Music.) Ludgi. In the name and by order of his Highness, the Grand Duke of Milan, I hereby announce that the exhibition of paintings that has taken place in Milan, is now closed. The exhibition of sculpture is hereby postponed till next year. People. {^Outside.'] Bravo! Bravo! Enter Soldi, Bomba, four Judges^ and soldiers liy the right. Soldi. [Announcing.'] The President and Judges. \The Presi- dent and Judges cross from right to left.\ Ludgi. [After having stationed sentinels.] Guards, the Judges are about to deliberate ; no one must enter yonder room. Watch that the orders of our Sovereign be punctually executed. Soldi. Yes, Signor Captain. [E.vit Ludgi hy the right. Enter Gori, Gambatti, and artists. Gori. [To Gambatti.] The Grand Duke's orders are severe. Gamhatti. [Smiling ironically.] Of course ; there must be some appearance of justice. Gori. What ? Do you suppose. . . . ? Gamhatti. No ! I do not suj^pose. I am certain. Gori. Nay, you are wrong; the Grand Duke is too loyal, .and, besides, he would not dare be unjust in the eyes of all Europe, Gamhatti. Who knows? He is infatuated with Joseph D'Ar- pinas, his favorite as well as his. . . . Gori. Silence ! Would you calumniate our Sovereign ? Gamhatti. No ! I would speak the truth. Gori. Your admiration for Carravaggio blinds you. Gamhatti. I confess that of all the pictures on exhibition, one struck me as very far superior. Gori. His ! Yes, I think so too ! CaiTavagio is our master, and w^ill soon rival the divine Eaphael. Gamhatti. And how noble-hearted he is ! They say, that yester- day, in a fit of anger, he destroyed the statue the Grand Duke wished to compel him to give up. Gori. Doubtless that is the reason the exhibition of statuary has been postponed. However, though we have lost a masterpiece, we have still a great artist in our midst. THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. 15 Gamhatti. He will never stoop to flatter the powerful ! He despises their vices. Gori. Ah ! here he comes. How thoughtful and careworn he looks. Enter Carravaggio, slowly. Carravaggio. \To himself.] Yes, I should have rendered the face more expressive, more fair, more tender. .1 know not what feeling held back my brush, that against my will, portrayed unceasingly Leontia's features ! But what of it ? . . . My triumph would be certain, were the judges to recognize her ! . . . And where could a worthier model be found ? Gori. You seem uneasy. Signer Carravaggio. Carravaggio. Ah ! excuse me, Signori, I had not seen you. Gamhatti. Like you, we impatiently wait that the victor be pro- claimed . . . The voice of the people has already named him. Carravaggio. That voice is not always obeyed. Gori. But this time, it will be ; it has pronounced the name of Carravaggio. Carravaggio. My dear pupils, your friendship blinds you. So many celebrated artists have sent paintings to the exhibition .... Gamhatti. That it is for you to triumph over them ; but in a few hours our uncertainty will be over, for the Judges have just entered the gallery. Carravaggio. Already ? Gori. They are now deliberating. Carravaggio. [^Aside.] Ah ! my anguish increases ! \Slts doicn agitated and reflects.] Gori. [To Gambatti.] T cannot understand his uneasiness. Gamhatti, Is not Joseph D'Arpinas a competitor, and is he not ? Gori. Hush! we are in the Grand Duke's palace. Gamhatti. True !. . .But see, Carravaggio is wrapped in thought ; he both fears and hopes ; our presence is perhaps an inconvenience to him ; let us withdraw. Gori. Yes ! [ To the other artists.] Friends, let us not disturb our master ; follow me. [Exeunt all hy right. Carravaggio. [Alone., rises suddenly.] Why did I not destroy my painting as well as my statue? ... Oh ! Raphael ! divine Ra- phael ! never will I be able to equal your genius ! Poets may speak with the pen, but you, divine Raphael, you speak with one touch of your brush ! ... As I look at my works I am discour- aged ! and yet I feel something there ! . . .[Points to his hroio.]. . . there ! . . . [ Points to his heart.] Enter Leontia, veiUd. Leontia. My presentment did not deceive me; it is he! 16 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. Carravaggio. What ! Leoiitia ! you here ! Leonlia. Dear Angelo, I could not master my impatience ; veiled and concealed, I ran hither to learn. . . . Carravaggio. The Judges still deliberate. Leontia. 1 know it ! have you heard unfavorable news ? Carravaggio. No ; not yet. Leontia. Why then are you so melancholy ? Carravaggio. Ah ! you know too well the cause of my fear . . . Joseph D'Arpinas competes for the prize ! Leontia. His painting was hardly noticed ; those of your pupils are superior. Carravaggio. \hitterly.\ They have not the Grand Duke's pro- tection ! Leontia. Nay. .the Grand Duke is just ! Carravaggio. Yes, but they say.. Joseph D'Arpinas is nearly related to him — that is, the Grand Duke treats him with the care of a father . . . The rumors that are whispered throughout the town will have come to the Judges' ears, and will show them the distance between him, the nobleman and favorite, and me, Michael Angelo Carravaggio, the poor painter who dares love you. Leontia. Angelo, the Judges are honorable artists ; why would they commit an injustice you would blush to think of? Carravaggio. True, Leontia, artists are noble hearted men. — Ah ! were not your hand the prize, I would despise this trial ; a vain desire for glory often demands too many sacrifices ! Leontia. I know it, Angelo, and never will I be able to love you enough to compensate for this sacrifice, and yet, God knows how dear you are to me ! Carravaggio. Angel ! Leontia. Ah! if you fancied the happiness I felt in mingling unknown with the crowd that filled the gallery, I stood admiring your masterpiece, and listened, trembling, to the words of those surrounding me ; your name was in every mouth. . .The nobles pro- nounced it with respect; the people with pride; artists with venera- tion ; women with envy ; and I, sure of possessing your love, hoping, proud, I concealed my tears of joy, and ran to hide myself and be alone with my happiness. Carravaggio. Oh ! how fair on your brow will be the nuptial wreath ! What a picture I will paint of Leontia following Carra- vaggio to the altar; yes, Leontia, your hopes quiet my fears ; 1 will conquer, that I may win your hand. . .for to lose you ... to see you the wife of another. . .Oh ! Leontia. . .1 scarce dare think of it.'. . . Leontia. Angelo, I love you ! What more can I say ? Carravaggio. Oh ! my fife is in these words. Leontia. Hark ! I hear footsteps, it is Joseph D' Arpinas with his friends. Let us retire that they may not see us together. THY. ARTIST AND THK NOBLEiVIAN. 17 Carravarjf/lo. Put down your veil, Signora; I will acconipHtiy you. ' \Exeunt left.. Enter Joskph, DAVErxNA, Spinelli, Noblemen, by right, and go towards 2d E. left. Joseph. This way, Signori — [o2Jens a door.] — This is tlie exhibi- tion hall. Soldi. [On the door.\ No admittance. Joseph. We are all noblemen. Soldi. No matter. No admittance ... by order of the (Trand Duke. [He shuts the door.] Daverna. It appears the orders are strict. Spinelli. You know that the Grand Duke is severe on that point. .Toseph. Too severe ! There is as much ceremony in awarding a prize for painting as would be used were it necessary to behead an Italian noblemen. It is supremely ridicidons. Daverna. Come, do not be angry, you are certain to obtain the prize ! Joseph. I hope so ... I fear but one .... Daoerna. Carravaggio ? .Toseph. [Disdainfnlli/.] Carravaggio! the son of a mason, who earns his miserable livelihood by carving Madonnas ? No ! not he . . . another . . . Angelo Delia Pergola. Daverna. The jovial Knight of the Order of Malta? He is not an artist . . . merely an amateur. Joseph. For that very reason I fear him. The friend and j)ro- tector of Carravaggio; he pleads continually in his favor, and lias already exclaimed at the corruption of the Judges, thereby insinu- ating that it would be unjust to award the prize to any but the j)lebeian . . . Since this morning he is with the Grand Duke. Darerna. Because his Highness wishes to be in a good humor for the dav. Whv need vou fear his decision, vou. Ids favoritr his.... S I) in ell i. His son ! .Toseph. Silence! That namt? must not be uttered till the Grand Duke pronounces it himself, if I am the victor. Leo. [Entering from R. and announcing. \ Signor Axgkj.o Della Pergola. [E.rit. .Toseph. Pergola ! Not a word in his presence. Enter Pergola. Pergola,. Good day, good day, Signori ; well, what news this morning? What scandalous adventure took place last night? AVhose honor was compromised ? Which plebeian murdered ? Which nobleman exiled from court? 18 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. Joseph. 'Tis we, Signor, who should ask yon the news. Pergola. 1 ? ... I have not met a soul. Joseph. Perhaps not, l»ut the Ci rand Duke's closet, from whence yuu have just come, contains all the secrets in Milan. Pergola. What ! are you jealous of the favor his Highness granted, by calling to inform me that my manners and beliavior displeased him? Jonepli. 1 would scarce have believed that the Grand Duke sum- moned you for that purpose; your looks are not those of a courtier whose master has been upbraiding him. Pergola. Ah ! I am not a courtier ! Whether a favorite or not, always the same, laughing at fortune, too small to be provoked, too great to be insignificant, living at court, but lost in the crowd, and .seeing pass by me ambition, without losing my modesty and vile- ness, without stooping to Hatter. . .the consequence is that this morn- ing I was enabled to prove the (irand Duke that he was wrong. . . he acknowledged it, and to make amend for his suspicions, he gave Hie his private usher to announce me throughout the pala^ce. Joseph. Indeed! I thought that honor was only granted to the highest nobility of the Duchy. Pergola. Preciselv. I am ai) honorable member of that class. All. You! Pergola. Yes ! and 1 am none the prouder for it. Joseph. And pray, what position do you now occupy ? Pergola. That of Grand Master of Ceremonies. Joseph. Grand Master of Ceremonies! Pergola. Yes ... fortunately, however, my tenn of office will soon expire. It began at twelve o'clock and will linish at tw^o . . . unless, in the meantime, I contrive to be slandered and sent in exile! Daverna. Nay, Signor, you are jesting. Pergola. I never was more serious. 1 am deputed to call on the Victor, lead him in triumph to the Grand Duke, crown him, and have his name proclaimed throughout the Dukedom ; so, in all l)robability, my dear Signor Joseph, I shall be the herald of your fame. Joseph. 1 doubt not but you would rather proclaim Carra- vaggio's. Pergola. AVhy ? Joseph. He is your favorite. Pergola. True, I will not conceal that my best wishes are for his success . . . Had you but seen him as I have, balancing between glory and love, honor and liberty, breaking a statue, his master- piece, that they might not violate his right as a man and an artist. . . . Had you seen him, his brain wild with genius, and his heart trembling with fear and love ; then, only then, would you have known the true artist ! But justice comes first . . . You are a noble- THE ARTIST AND THE KOBLEMAN. 19 man, Carravaggio is a plebeian, the plebeian should deserve the prize, the nobleman should be awarded it. Were it not so, would it be worth the while of a nobleman to be born? Joseph. Your bitter sarcasms are ungenerous, Signor Pergola ! When I, a nobleman, consented to compete with plebeians, my thirst for glory impelled me, and besides, I thought I honored the exhibition with my name. Pergola. Indeed, in the name of the artists, I thank you for the honor your lordship conferred on them ; but you have not revealed all : there is another and worthier prize, unknown to any but you .... Joseph. Can you imagine . . . . ? Pergola. I do not compel you to acknowledge it. Besides, not only is Carravaggio your rival in art, but also in love . . . the hand of Leontia .... Daverna. The Grand Duke's niece ! S/HnellL The pearl of Milan ! Pergola. Do I not know it ? I, a bachelor and a connoisseur ; T, who have already said to Signor D' Arpinas : Leontia does not love you ; she adores Carravaggio ; if you are victor, she will marry you l3y force, but despairing forever. Well, Signori, observe the position in which she is placed : her lover will deserve the prize without obtaining it ; he, whom she abhors, will not deserve it, but will be awarded it, and will marry her ; if anything else were to happen, things would go as they should, and of course that would be against all the rules of common sense ! Joseph. Signor Pergola, I know not the object of your satires ; if to test my patience and courage, may I say that I have proved you my patience, because we were in the Grand Duke's palace, but, if you wish, I can give you elsewhere proofs of my courage ! Pergola. [Aside.] What ails him ! 'Pon my life, I believe he is angry ! I did not think he was capable of it. [Aloud and rather ironically.] My dear friend, if I wished to have a duel, I would say, candidly, 1 feel like cutting your throat ! It is a mere caprice, but yet, you would have to indulge me in it . . . But such an idea has never entered my brain; on the contrary, your presence in this palace is necessary to me ; you are the Grand Duke's favorite, so you are the only one I can ridicule, excepting the Grand Duke himself; but, as he is just and good, that is impossible ... I cannot live without jesting on somebody, so if you were to disappear, there would be something missing ! . . . I really see but one way by which to silence me ! .Joseph. What is it ? Pergola. Offend his Highness and lose your position, in which case, I should attack your successor. Joseph. [In a rather affected tone.] Your amiable wit and satire inspire neither hatred nor anger. 20 THE ARTIST AND THE NOBLEMAN. Pergola. Such is my character, ever §inee the OrdtM' of Malta has placed me among the happiest and most free of mortals, Davenia. You! free! You, a Knight of Malta, submitted to the rules of the Order , . . . ! Pergola. That gives me entire liberty . . . When scarcely old enough to be my own master, my relations made me obey them . . . 1 wislied to be a spendthrift, and was compelled to be miserly ; T would have had a mistress, and received orders to marry where I did not love. Then I joined the Order and swore to remain poor, out of compassion for my creditors ; chaste, to avoid the dangers of matrimony : obedient, that 1 might throw off the yoke of my rela- tions; since then, 1 have borrowed without being compelled to return ; I obey laws but not caprices, and T may love any numbei- of ladies, without binding myself to any . . . Ah ! Signori, believe me, if you would be free, follow my example, swear obedience, be Knights of Malta . . . But, if I mistake not, the Orand Duke ap- proaches, and my new position demands that 1 should be beside him. \ExU and 're/urns at once v:Uh Grand Duke. \Enter Leo annonncing] The Grand Duke ! [E.i/iL Enter Grand Dvke and Pergola. Duke. Heaven guard you, Signori ! [To Pergola. j Signor, bring in our presence the Judges. [Exit PERt;oLA.] [AKide to Joseph.] Fear not, justice has, no doubt, pointed you out as the Victor. Joseph. \Ai pei formed, or represented, on any stage or public plac« during the whole period for which the copyright * obtained ; and any manager, actor, or other persor acting, performing, or representing the said composi- tion, without or against the consent of the said au- thor or proprietor, his heirs or assigns, shall be liabl for damages, to be sued for and recovered by actioL on the case, or other equivalent remedy, with costs of suit, in any court of the United States — such damages in all cases to be rated and assessed at suc^ sum not less than one hundred dollars for the first, and fifty dollars for every subsequent performance as to the court having cognizance thereof shall ap- pear to be just. .^ 3 ■.^. -^x. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 103 970 6 n