The Duchess of Padua

No, I have changed my mind,You will stay here, and like a faithful wifeWatch from the window for our coming back.Were it not dreadful if some accidentBy chance should happen to your loving Lord?Come, gentlemen, my hounds begin to chafe,And I chafe too, having a patient wife.Where is young Guido?

Maffio

My liege, I have not seen himFor a full hour past.

Duke

It matters not,I dare say I shall see him soon enough.Well, Madam, you will sit at home and spin.I do protest, sirs, the domestic virtuesAre often very beautiful in others.

[Exit Duke with his Court.]

Duchess

The stars have fought against me, that is all,And thus to-night when my Lord lieth asleep,Will I fall upon my dagger, and so cease.My heart is such a stone nothing can reach itExcept the dagger’s edge: let it go there,To find what name it carries: ay! to-nightDeath will divorce the Duke; and yet to-nightHe may die also, he is very old.Why should he not die?  Yesterday his handShook with a palsy: men have died from palsy,And why not he?  Are there not fevers also,Agues and chills, and other maladiesMost incident to old age?No, no, he will not die, he is too sinful;Honest men die before their proper time.Good men will die: men by whose side the DukeIn all the sick pollution of his lifeSeems like a leper: women and children die,But the Duke will not die, he is too sinful.Oh, can it beThere is some immortality in sin,Which virtue has not?  And does the wicked manDraw life from what to other men were death,Like poisonous plants that on corruption live?No, no, I think God would not suffer that:Yet the Duke will not die: he is too sinful.But I will die alone, and on this nightGrim Death shall be my bridegroom, and the tombMy secret house of pleasure: well, what of that?The world’s a graveyard, and we each, like coffins,Within us bear a skeleton.

[Enter Lord Moranzone all in black; he passes across the back of the stage looking anxiously about.]

Moranzone

Where is Guido?I cannot find him anywhere.

Duchess [catches sight of him]

O God!’Twas thou who took my love away from me.

Moranzone [with a look of joy]

What, has he left you?

Duchess

Nay, you know he has.Oh, give him back to me, give him back, I say,Or I will tear your body limb from limb,And to the common gibbet nail your headUntil the carrion crows have stripped it bare.Better you had crossed a hungry lionessBefore you came between me and my love.

[With more pathos.]

Nay, give him back, you know not how I love him.Here by this chair he knelt a half hour since;’Twas there he stood, and there he looked at me;This is the hand he kissed, and these the earsInto whose open portals he did pourA tale of love so musical that allThe birds stopped singing!  Oh, give him back to me.

Moranzone

He does not love you, Madam.

Duchess

May the plagueWither the tongue that says so!  Give him back.

Moranzone

Madam, I tell you you will never see him,Neither to-night, nor any other night.

Duchess

What is your name?

Moranzone

My name?  Revenge!

[Exit.]

Duchess

Revenge!I think I never harmed a little child.What should Revenge do coming to my door?It matters not, for Death is there already,Waiting with his dim torch to light my way.’Tis true men hate thee, Death, and yet I thinkThou wilt be kinder to me than my lover,And so dispatch the messengers at once,Harry the lazy steeds of lingering day,And let the night, thy sister, come instead,And drape the world in mourning; let the owl,Who is thy minister, scream from his towerAnd wake the toad with hooting, and the bat,That is the slave of dim Persephone,Wheel through the sombre air on wandering wing!Tear up the shrieking mandrakes from the earthAnd bid them make us music, and tell the moleTo dig deep down thy cold and narrow bed,For I shall lie within thine arms to-night.END OF ACT II

ACT III

SCENE

A large corridor in the Ducal Palace: a window (L.C.) looks out on a view of Padua by moonlight: a staircase (R.C.) leads up to a door with a portière of crimson velvet, with the Duke’s arms embroidered in gold on it: on the lowest step of the staircase a figure draped in black is sitting: the hall is lit by an iron cresset filled with burning tow: thunder and lightning outside: the time is night.

[Enter Guido through the window.]

Guido

The wind is rising: how my ladder shook!I thought that every gust would break the cords!

[Looks out at the city.]

Christ!  What a night:Great thunder in the heavens, and wild lightningsStriking from pinnacle to pinnacleAcross the city, till the dim houses seemTo shudder and to shake as each new glareDashes adown the street.

[Passes across the stage to foot of staircase.]

Ah! who art thouThat sittest on the stair, like unto DeathWaiting a guilty soul?  [A pause.]Canst thou not speak?Or has this storm laid palsy on thy tongue,And chilled thy utterance?

[The figure rises and takes off his mask.]

Moranzone

Guido Ferranti,Thy murdered father laughs for joy to-night.

Guido [confusedly]

What, art thou here?

Moranzone

Ay, waiting for your coming.

Guido [looking away from him]

I did not think to see you, but am glad,That you may know the thing I mean to do.

Moranzone

First, I would have you know my well-laid plans;Listen: I have set horses at the gateWhich leads to Parma: when you have done your businessWe will ride hence, and by to-morrow night —

Guido

It cannot be.

Moranzone

Nay, but it shall.

Guido

Listen, Lord Moranzone,I am resolved not to kill this man.

Moranzone

Surely my ears are traitors, speak again:It cannot be but age has dulled my powers,I am an old man now: what did you say?You said that with that dagger in your beltYou would avenge your father’s bloody murder;Did you not say that?

Guido

No, my lord, I saidI was resolved not to kill the Duke.

Moranzone

You said not that; it is my senses mock me;Or else this midnight air o’ercharged with stormAlters your message in the giving it.

Guido

Nay, you heard rightly; I’ll not kill this man.

Moranzone

What of thine oath, thou traitor, what of thine oath?

Guido

I am resolved not to keep that oath.

Moranzone

What of thy murdered father?

Guido

Dost thou thinkMy father would be glad to see me coming,This old man’s blood still hot upon mine hands?

Moranzone

Ay! he would laugh for joy.

Guido

I do not think so,There is better knowledge in the other world;Vengeance is God’s, let God himself revenge.

Moranzone

Thou art God’s minister of vengeance.

Guido

No!God hath no minister but his own hand.I will not kill this man.

Moranzone

Why are you here,If not to kill him, then?

Guido

Lord Moranzone,I purpose to ascend to the Duke’s chamber,And as he lies asleep lay on his breastThe dagger and this writing; when he awakesThen he will know who held him in his powerAnd slew him not: this is the noblest vengeanceWhich I can take.

Moranzone

You will not slay him?

Guido

No.

Moranzone

Ignoble son of a noble father,Who sufferest this man who sold that fatherTo live an hour.

Guido

’Twas thou that hindered me;I would have killed him in the open square,The day I saw him first.

Moranzone

It was not yet time;Now it is time, and, like some green-faced girl,Thou pratest of forgiveness.

Guido

No! revenge:The right revenge my father’s son should take.

Moranzone

You are a coward,Take out the knife, get to the Duke’s chamber,And bring me back his heart upon the blade.When he is dead, then you can talk to meOf noble vengeances.

Guido

Upon thine honour,And by the love thou bearest my father’s name,Dost thou think my father, that great gentleman,That generous soldier, that most chivalrous lord,Would have crept at night-time, like a common thief,And stabbed an old man sleeping in his bed,However he had wronged him: tell me that.

Moranzone

[after some hesitation]

You have sworn an oath, see that you keep that oath.Boy, do you think I do not know your secret,Your traffic with the Duchess?

Guido

Silence, liar!The very moon in heaven is not more chaste.Nor the white stars so pure.

Moranzone

And yet, you love her;Weak fool, to let love in upon your life,Save as a plaything.

Guido

You do well to talk:Within your veins, old man, the pulse of youthThrobs with no ardour.  Your eyes full of rheumHave against Beauty closed their filmy doors,And your clogged ears, losing their natural sense,Have shut you from the music of the world.You talk of love!  You know not what it is.

Moranzone

Oh, in my time, boy, have I walked i’ the moon,Swore I would live on kisses and on blisses,Swore I would die for love, and did not die,Wrote love bad verses; ay, and sung them badly,Like all true lovers: Oh, I have done the tricks!I know the partings and the chamberings;We are all animals at best, and loveIs merely passion with a holy name.

Guido

Now then I know you have not loved at all.Love is the sacrament of life; it setsVirtue where virtue was not; cleanses menOf all the vile pollutions of this world;It is the fire which purges gold from dross,It is the fan which winnows wheat from chaff,It is the spring which in some wintry soilMakes innocence to blossom like a rose.The days are over when God walked with men,But Love, which is his image, holds his place.When a man loves a woman, then he knowsGod’s secret, and the secret of the world.There is no house so lowly or so mean,Which, if their hearts be pure who live in it,Love will not enter; but if bloody murderKnock at the Palace gate and is let in,Love like a wounded thing creeps out and dies.This is the punishment God sets on sin.The wicked cannot love.

[A groan comes from the Duke’s chamber.]

Ah!  What is that?Do you not hear?  ’Twas nothing.So I thinkThat it is woman’s mission by their loveTo save the souls of men: and loving her,My Lady, my white Beatrice, I beginTo see a nobler and a holier vengeanceIn letting this man live, than doth resideIn bloody deeds o’ night, stabs in the dark,And young hands clutching at a palsied throat.It was, I think, for love’s sake that Lord Christ,Who was indeed himself incarnate Love,Bade every man forgive his enemy.

Moranzone [sneeringly]

That was in Palestine, not Padua;And said for saints: I have to do with men.

Guido

It was for all time said.

Moranzone

And your white Duchess,What will she do to thank you?

Guido

Alas, I will not see her face again.’Tis but twelve hours since I parted from her,So suddenly, and with such violent passion,That she has shut her heart against me now:No, I will never see her.

Moranzone

What will you do?

Guido

After that I have laid the dagger there,Get hence to-night from Padua.

Moranzone

And then?

Guido

I will take service with the Doge at Venice,And bid him pack me straightway to the wars,And there I will, being now sick of life,Throw that poor life against some desperate spear.

[A groan from the Duke’s chamber again.]

Did you not hear a voice?

Moranzone

I always hear,From the dim confines of some sepulchre,A voice that cries for vengeance.  We waste time,It will be morning soon; are you resolvedYou will not kill the Duke?

Guido

I am resolved.

Moranzone

O wretched father, lying unavenged.

Guido

More wretched, were thy son a murderer.

Moranzone

Why, what is life?

Guido

I do not know, my lord,I did not give it, and I dare not take it.

Moranzone

I do not thank God often; but I thinkI thank him now that I have got no son!And you, what bastard blood flows in your veinsThat when you have your enemy in your graspYou let him go!  I would that I had left youWith the dull hinds that reared you.

Guido

Better perhapsThat you had done so!  May be better stillI’d not been born to this distressful world.

Moranzone

Farewell!

Guido

Farewell!  Some day, Lord Moranzone,You will understand my vengeance.

Moranzone

Never, boy.

[Gets out of window and exit by rope ladder.]

Guido

Father, I think thou knowest my resolve,And with this nobler vengeance art content.Father, I think in letting this man liveThat I am doing what thou wouldst have done.Father, I know not if a human voiceCan pierce the iron gateway of the dead,Or if the dead are set in ignoranceOf what we do, or do not, for their sakes.And yet I feel a presence in the air,There is a shadow standing at my side,And ghostly kisses seem to touch my lips,And leave them holier.  [Kneels down.]O father, if ’tis thou,Canst thou not burst through the decrees of death,And if corporeal semblance show thyself,That I may touch thy hand!No, there is nothing.  [Rises.]’Tis the night that cheats us with its phantoms,And, like a puppet-master, makes us thinkThat things are real which are not.  It grows late.Now must I to my business.

[Pulls out a letter from his doublet and reads it.]

When he wakes,And sees this letter, and the dagger with it,Will he not have some loathing for his life,Repent, perchance, and lead a better life,Or will he mock because a young man sparedHis natural enemy?  I do not care.Father, it is thy bidding that I do,Thy bidding, and the bidding of my loveWhich teaches me to know thee as thou art.

[Ascends staircase stealthily, and just as he reaches out his hand to draw back the curtain the Duchess appears all in white. Guido starts back.]

Duchess

Guido! what do you here so late?

Guido

O white and spotless angel of my life,Sure thou hast come from Heaven with a messageThat mercy is more noble than revenge?

Duchess

There is no barrier between us now.

Guido

None, love, nor shall be.

Duchess

I have seen to that.

Guido

Tarry here for me.

Duchess

No, you are not going?You will not leave me as you did before?

Guido

I will return within a moment’s space,But first I must repair to the Duke’s chamber,And leave this letter and this dagger there,That when he wakes —

Duchess

When who wakes?

Guido

Why, the Duke.

Duchess

He will not wake again.

Guido

What, is he dead?

Duchess

Ay! he is dead.

Guido

O God! how wonderfulAre all thy secret ways!  Who would have saidThat on this very night, when I had yieldedInto thy hands the vengeance that is thine,Thou with thy finger wouldst have touched the man,And bade him come before thy judgment seat.

Duchess

I have just killed him.

Guido [in horror]

Oh!

Duchess

He was asleep;Come closer, love, and I will tell you all.I had resolved to kill myself to-night.About an hour ago I waked from sleep,And took my dagger from beneath my pillow,Where I had hidden it to serve my need,And drew it from the sheath, and felt the edge,And thought of you, and how I loved you, Guido,And turned to fall upon it, when I markedThe old man sleeping, full of years and sin;There lay he muttering curses in his sleep,And as I looked upon his evil faceSuddenly like a flame there flashed across me,There is the barrier which Guido spoke of:You said there lay a barrier between us,What barrier but he? —I hardly knowWhat happened, but a steaming mist of bloodRose up between us two.

Guido

Oh, horrible!

Duchess

And then he groaned,And then he groaned no more!  I only heardThe dripping of the blood upon the floor.

Guido

Enough, enough.

Duchess

Will you not kiss me now?Do you remember saying that women’s loveTurns men to angels? well, the love of manTurns women into martyrs; for its sakeWe do or suffer anything.

Guido

O God!

Duchess

Will you not speak?

Guido

I cannot speak at all.

Duchess

Let as not talk of this!  Let us go hence:Is not the barrier broken down between us?What would you more?  Come, it is almost morning.

[Puts her hand on Guido’s.]

Guido [breaking from her]

O damned saint!  O angel fresh from Hell!What bloody devil tempted thee to this!That thou hast killed thy husband, that is nothing —Hell was already gaping for his soul —But thou hast murdered Love, and in its placeHast set a horrible and bloodstained thing,Whose very breath breeds pestilence and plague,And strangles Love.

Duchess [in amazed wonder]

I did it all for you.I would not have you do it, had you willed it,For I would keep you without blot or stain,A thing unblemished, unassailed, untarnished.Men do not know what women do for love.Have I not wrecked my soul for your dear sake,Here and hereafter?

Guido

No, do not touch me,Between us lies a thin red stream of blood;I dare not look across it: when you stabbed himYou stabbed Love with a sharp knife to the heart.We cannot meet again.

Duchess [wringing her hands]

For you!  For you!I did it all for you: have you forgotten?You said there was a barrier between us;That barrier lies now i’ the upper chamberUpset, overthrown, beaten, and battered down,And will not part us ever.

Guido

No, you mistook:Sin was the barrier, you have raised it up;Crime was the barrier, you have set it there.The barrier was murder, and your handHas builded it so high it shuts out heaven,It shuts out God.

Duchess

I did it all for you;You dare not leave me now: nay, Guido, listen.Get horses ready, we will fly to-night.The past is a bad dream, we will forget it:Before us lies the future: shall we not haveSweet days of love beneath our vines and laugh? —No, no, we will not laugh, but, when we weep,Well, we will weep together; I will serve you;I will be very meek and very gentle:You do not know me.

Guido

Nay, I know you now;Get hence, I say, out of my sight.

Duchess [pacing up and down]

O God,How I have loved this man!

Guido

You never loved me.Had it been so, Love would have stayed your hand.How could we sit together at Love’s table?You have poured poison in the sacred wine,And Murder dips his fingers in the sop.

Duchess [throws herself on her knees]

Then slay me now!  I have spilt blood to-night,You shall spill more, so we go hand in handTo heaven or to hell.  Draw your sword, Guido.Quick, let your soul go chambering in my heart,It will but find its master’s image there.Nay, if you will not slay me with your sword,Bid me to fall upon this reeking knife,And I will do it.

Guido [wresting knife from her]

Give it to me, I say.O God, your very hands are wet with blood!This place is Hell, I cannot tarry here.I pray you let me see your face no more.

Duchess

Better for me I had not seen your face.

[Guido recoils: she seizes his hands as she kneels.]

Nay, Guido, listen for a while:Until you came to Padua I livedWretched indeed, but with no murderous thought,Very submissive to a cruel Lord,Very obedient to unjust commands,As pure I think as any gentle girlWho now would turn in horror from my hands —

[Stands up.]

You came: ah!  Guido, the first kindly wordsI ever heard since I had come from FranceWere from your lips: well, well, that is no matter.You came, and in the passion of your eyesI read love’s meaning; everything you saidTouched my dumb soul to music, so I loved you.And yet I did not tell you of my love.’Twas you who sought me out, knelt at my feetAs I kneel now at yours, and with sweet vows,

[Kneels.]

Whose music seems to linger in my ears,Swore that you loved me, and I trusted you.I think there are many women in the worldWho would have tempted you to kill the man.I did not.Yet I know that had I done so,I had not been thus humbled in the dust,

[Stands up.]

But you had loved me very faithfully.

[After a pause approaches him timidly.]

I do not think you understand me, Guido:It was for your sake that I wrought this deedWhose horror now chills my young blood to ice,For your sake only.  [Stretching out her arm.]Will you not speak to me?Love me a little: in my girlish lifeI have been starved for love, and kindlinessHas passed me by.

Guido

I dare not look at you:You come to me with too pronounced a favour;Get to your tirewomen.

Duchess

Ay, there it is!There speaks the man! yet had you come to meWith any heavy sin upon your soul,Some murder done for hire, not for love,Why, I had sat and watched at your bedsideAll through the night-time, lest Remorse might comeAnd pour his poisons in your ear, and soKeep you from sleeping!  Sure it is the guilty,Who, being very wretched, need love most.

Guido

There is no love where there is any guilt.

Duchess

No love where there is any guilt!  O God,How differently do we love from men!There is many a woman here in Padua,Some workman’s wife, or ruder artisan’s,Whose husband spends the wages of the weekIn a coarse revel, or a tavern brawl,And reeling home late on the Saturday night,Finds his wife sitting by a fireless hearth,Trying to hush the child who cries for hunger,And then sets to and beats his wife becauseThe child is hungry, and the fire black.Yet the wife loves him! and will rise next dayWith some red bruise across a careworn face,And sweep the house, and do the common service,And try and smile, and only be too gladIf he does not beat her a second timeBefore her child! – that is how women love.

[A pause: Guido says nothing.]

I think you will not drive me from your side.Where have I got to go if you reject me? —You for whose sake this hand has murdered life,You for whose sake my soul has wrecked itselfBeyond all hope of pardon.

Guido

Get thee gone:The dead man is a ghost, and our love too,Flits like a ghost about its desolate tomb,And wanders through this charnel house, and weepsThat when you slew your lord you slew it also.Do you not see?

Duchess

I see when men love womenThey give them but a little of their lives,But women when they love give everything;I see that, Guido, now.

Guido

Away, away,And come not back till you have waked your dead.

Duchess

I would to God that I could wake the dead,Put vision in the glazéd eves, and giveThe tongue its natural utterance, and bidThe heart to beat again: that cannot be:For what is done, is done: and what is deadIs dead for ever: the fire cannot warm him:The winter cannot hurt him with its snows;Something has gone from him; if you call him now,He will not answer; if you mock him now,He will not laugh; and if you stab him nowHe will not bleed.I would that I could wake him!O God, put back the sun a little space,And from the roll of time blot out to-night,And bid it not have been!  Put back the sun,And make me what I was an hour ago!No, no, time will not stop for anything,Nor the sun stay its courses, though RepentanceCalling it back grow hoarse; but you, my love,Have you no word of pity even for me?O Guido, Guido, will you not kiss me once?Drive me not to some desperate resolve:Women grow mad when they are treated thus:Will you not kiss me once?

Guido [holding up knife]

I will not kiss youUntil the blood grows dry upon this knife,[Wildly]  Back to your dead!

Duchess [going up the stairs]

Why, then I will be gone! and may you findMore mercy than you showed to me to-night!

Guido

Let me find mercy when I go at nightAnd do foul murder.

Duchess [coming down a few steps.]

Murder did you say?Murder is hungry, and still cries for more,And Death, his brother, is not satisfied,But walks the house, and will not go away,Unless he has a comrade!  Tarry, Death,For I will give thee a most faithful lackeyTo travel with thee!  Murder, call no more,For thou shalt eat thy fill.There is a stormWill break upon this house before the morning,So horrible, that the white moon alreadyTurns grey and sick with terror, the low windGoes moaning round the house, and the high starsRun madly through the vaulted firmament,As though the night wept tears of liquid fireFor what the day shall look upon.  Oh, weep,Thou lamentable heaven!  Weep thy fill!Though sorrow like a cataract drench the fields,And make the earth one bitter lake of tears,It would not be enough.  [A peal of thunder.]Do you not hear,There is artillery in the Heaven to-night.Vengeance is wakened up, and has unloosedHis dogs upon the world, and in this matterWhich lies between us two, let him who drawsThe thunder on his head beware the ruinWhich the forked flame brings after.

[A flash of lightning followed by a peal of thunder.]

Guido

Away! away!

[Exit the Duchess, who as she lifts the crimson curtain looks back for a moment at Guido, but he makes no sign. More thunder.]

Now is life fallen in ashes at my feetAnd noble love self-slain; and in its placeCrept murder with its silent bloody feet.And she who wrought it – Oh! and yet she loved me,And for my sake did do this dreadful thing.I have been cruel to her: Beatrice!Beatrice, I say, come back.

[Begins to ascend staircase, when the noise of Soldiers is heard.]