PS 3509 N57B3 *'*. Class^P5 350^ Book_^«M57B3 GopyrightN^ J5_^^_?_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 'THE BAGLIONI A TRAGEDY IN FOUR ACTS BY HENRY LANE ENO PRIVATELY PRINTED NEW YORK 1903 P3 3507 V<5jo5 THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Two Copies Received FEB 4 1903 (N Copyright Entry CLASS ^' XXo. Ho z 7 ^ COPY AAO. NO. Copyright, 1903, BY HENRY LANE ENO. CHARACTERS 5 Grifone or Grifonetto Baglione FiLiPPO Baglione Bastard Uncle of Grifonetto Marcantonio Baglione .... Relative to Grifonetto Carlo Barciglia Baglione .- -. . Relative to Grifonetto Jeronimo della Penna .... Relative to Grifonetto Astorre Baglione Cousin to Grifonetto GuiDO Baglione Cousin to Grifonetto SiMONETTO Baglione Cousin to Grifonetto Maraglia Squire to Marcantonio Pietro Vanucci ...... called il Perugino Raffaello Santi Demetrius an Alexandrine Philosopher Atalanta Baglione Grifotietto's Mother Zenobia Sforza Grifonetto's Wife Lavinia Colonna Astorre' s Wife Students, Citizens, Nobles, Ladies, Peasants, Bravi, Revellers, Gvxxrds, etc., etc. 3 THE BAGLIONT ACT I. Scene. The Piazza; Perugia. — In the backgrmind to the left the Palazzo Communale. — Centre bnckground, Great Fountain. — To the right in perspective, fa<;ade of the Diiomo of San Lorenzo. — - Time, early morning before dawn, Angu.^t, 1500 A.D. — Starlight. The rising curtain discloses the square silent and emptij. — Bells chime hour. Enter troop of late revellers with lanterns an ' torches who pass at back of stage and exeunt. Enter Zenobia and Marcantonio. Both cloaked and hooded Marc. Once more our long sweet night has come to end. Would I could fix the inevitable stars, And stay the morning's coming; hush the dawn To sleep again beneath the hills. Zen. And I Would stretch the pitying veil of darkness o'er The world forever, could it always hide A rush of burning hours like these last Whose perfume still enwraps me lovingly. [Pause Yet would to God I'd never set my eyes Upon thee, Marcantonio! Never then Would I have known this maddened stolen joy; But never would I feel the agony Of vain implacable remorse. My cloak About me, close; the morning chills me. See That cold-eyed star, it spies upon us here! Were those not steps? Hark! No! I must be gone. Remember Grifonetto comes to-day. Marc. Zenobia! As if I could forget. But when again? 5 6 ' THE BAGLIONI Zen. No more. This is the last! Marc. You mean that I shall never kiss your eyes To sleep again — Zen. No! Marc. Never feel your lips — Zen. No! Marc. Never hold you in my arms? Zen. No, no! This is the very last. Hear me! Hear me well. I love my Grifonetto. When he comes The sun of happiness will glance upon His helm; and when I look into his eyes I shall forget thee, Marcantonio Then will these nights but seem as evil birds Obscuring with their sombre flight the light Of my real love. Yet do I love you too, Antonio. How, I know not; but I do. Perhaps my soul is double — good and bad — And all my evil self cries out aloud For your hot kisses. Take me in your arms Again. I must go now. The very stones And battlements reproach me. O! my love, The memory of to-night will linger on To crimson with its radiant afterglow All dark and lonelj^ days. Marc. This cannot be! You cry out love and yet would leave me now In this same breath. I too have loved him much, Your Grifonetto, yet I stake my life, His friendship, hopes of greatness, all my past. And all my future on one moment's hold Of our affection. Zen. Yes, I know, I know! But it is too hard to live twice like this, To snatch and give two real affections. And cheat the Fates by sucking two lives dry. It kills me. Marc. Once again. Come once again. I swear I'll not ask more, one more farewell THE BAGLIONI And then oblivion. You'll promise this? Then, when Astorre's wedding feast is done, I'll sell my sword to Florence. Zen. Yes, go And I will promise. Marc. Swear to me you'll come. That once at least the light of my life's love Shall flame again before the darkness shuts Me out forever! [Sound of approaching Guard. Zen. Yes! Here comes the guard. [Exit Zenobia quickly. [Marcantonio draivs info shadorv as guard passes by. Marc. Good! She is safe. They've gone the other way. Here then's the end. It seems impossible That these same stars shall look but once again Upon our loves, that these same sheltering walls Shall echo soon no more our whisperings. Ah silent square! How many treacheries Have you not overheard; what secret vows Of guilty lovers whose impassioned steps Have pressed hot on your frozen cheeks; what tears Have fallen on unsympathetic stones; How often has the criminal been dragged Across your sunny face to judgment seat! Yet never has your sightless gaze Proved more discretion to the eager stars, Nor e'er your dumbness been a better friend. [Exit Marcantonio. By this time morning has begun and the stage is gradually growing lighter. Enter and exeunt a Peasant boy driving sheep to market, playing on his flute; more peasants with produce, etc., also citizens with garlands and decorated hangings, banners bearing the Red Griffin of Perugia, etc., etc. Enter more citizens greeting each other. 1st Cit. By the Mass! 'Tis a glorious day for Astorre to lead home his bride. THE BAGLIONI 2d at. Aye, and men say that Lavinia Colonna is as fair as this new morning 1st Cit. So well may she be, and still be no ill mate for our Astorre. 3d Cit. Our Astorre, forsooth! Would he were the devil's! Never have I seen such a brood as these Baglioni. And now they must needs bring home another woman for fresh tyrant spawn ! 1st Cit. Hush, man! The dungeon jr awns for thy seditious carcass. 2d Cit. Come! To work! The whole town's to be adorned. Garlands waving over the streets, banners from the towers, and these hangings from the balconies. Perugia must not be ashamed to-day. She needs her bravest show, for there be foreigners a-plenty, Siennese and Florentines. 2d Cit. Aj'e, and Colonna and Orsini from Rome! Sd Cit. When did not our foolish folk love best of all a sight and a procession? As if the saints did not keep us all busy, without spending good hours truckling to the nobles. 1st Cit. A plague on thee ! Cannot thy sour face relax once in a month? 2d Cit. Yet 'tis true, alas, that ever since the Oddi were banished, the city has been ground down more day by day. 3d Cit. Aye, and the pranks of that young scapegrace, Grifonetto. (Shepherd, who has re-entered, plays a lively air on his flute.) Stop thy foolish piping, or I'll stop up thy throat. (Advances threateningly to shepherd, ivho dances away piping merrily. Croivd laughs.) 1st Cit. Come, come! My grandparents once told me long ago that you were young yourself before the nobles rose to power. [Citize7is laugh again. 3d Cit. Laugh on, but when one of these fine blades runs off with thy daughter, or robs thy hard-earned gains, with a prick of the rapier in thy fat sides, the laugh will be the other way. [Exit 3d Citizen muttering angrily. 1st Cit. And yet our friend has much of right in what he says. These handsome Baglioni of ours, God knows, are a most rapacious breed. THE BAGLIONI 2d at. Hark! Are those not horns? [Hunting-horns without. 1st at. Aye, 'tis Grifonetto returning. I marvel that the Lady Zenobia is not awake betimes to meet her master; they say that they're a loving couple, and Grifonetto, for all his pranks, is after all a fair and noble lord. [Hunting-horns without. It is noiv broad daylight. Enter Filippo, Carlo, and Jeronimo in riding costume. Car. It seems we are the first. Jer. Ask these good men. Car. (to Citizens). Have any seen my lord Grifone here? Ist at. We have just come upon the square. No one Was here before us. Jer. Then have we outrun him. Car. Already can I feel the ring of crowns Within my purse. Jer. At least he pays his debts. Fil. (who has been standing apart watching abstractedly the citizens depart, all of ivhom have now left the stage). Aye, he will pay. But will he play? Car. What's that? Fil. Your little minds are full of little crowns. But if you will give over children's things I'll give 5^ou men and states to gamble with. Jer. What's in the wind? Car. There's something new at last? Fil Just this. If we can drag Grifone in — Car. Why not persuade him? You've a ready tongue. Fil. Yet I have wasted more good rhetoric And brilliant argument upon that youth — - He greeted every word with mockery. And then refused point blank to listen more. Jer. (sarcastically). Yes, try your eloquence again. Car. Well then? Fil. But I have something better than mere wit. I have a hold to twist him to our way In spite of all his pride and loyalty. Car. Out with it. Fil. Two short summer days ago 10 ■ THE BAGLIONI I crossed this square before the earUest dawn In haste to join you on the hunt. You both, With Grifonetto, (you remember well) Had gone already when the night was young. Not heeding much my steps I well nigh ran Upon a woman muffled to the eyes. She sped into the arcade yonder. Car. And— Jer. You sped on after her as usual. Fil. I did not. She had screamed. Car. O noble knight! Fil. I knew her voice. It was Zenobia! Car. Now, by the gods; then it is really true! Jer. So that was why our Marcantonio Cared nothing for the hunt, was tired of boars. And spears, and horses, weary of the horns Whose very braying bruised his gentle ears. But never would Grifone credit it. Fil. Believe me? No! But not a word of this Must flutter out. We know that it is so; That is sufficient. Time will do the rest. Slow poison of suspicion gently poured Into unwilling ears, increasing hints, Sly irmuendoes, then, the day being ripe And fortune favouring, the clinching proofs — • And he is ours. But look you well, my friends, That your own parts are not too overdone. [Hunting-horns without. Car. There sound his horns. Fil. Remember, not too fast! [More horns. Enter Grifonetto {with riding-whip). Lost! lost! My hundred golden crowns are gone To feed you vultures. Yet how I did ride! The sparks from off our hoofs did shame the stars. The dawn's swift shafts scarce crept upon my pace, And when the morning caught me up at last I fled before my shadow like the wind. You see I cast no shadow. It still rides THE BAGLIONI. H Alone, fast following outside the gates. Car. And yet we've won! Grif. In truth I felt ashamed At your poor empty purses, so I went Three times about the walls for exercise — And thus you all slipped in. Jer. Gods! Can he boast? Grif. No, 'tis the very truth! But here's your gold! [Tosses purse. Two days have gone and my Zenobia Awaits her lover. [Others exchange glances. Fil. Nay, first politics, Then love. We've serious matters here for you. Grif. Not these same foolish plans I've heard before? Fil. They're neither foolish, nor have you well heard. Grif. Then I'll not listen to such villainy! Fil. Tut, Grifonetto! Save those mighty words For some more fitting time. We plan revolt, Not treachery. Too long have many kings Ruled over this one state. Too many lords From one great clan have trampled on the rights Of our citizens and drenched these streets With bloody brawls and family quarrelling. Jer. For we in truth desire that light of peace Which has so long forgot to shine upon Our strife-bedarkened city. Car. Hearken, cousin ! Long have we thought of this. Keep down your haste, And when Filippo here has done, why then Release your steeds of wrath. But well I know When you have heard the whole, their fiery heads Will need no holding rein. Fil, May I proceed? Grif. Proceed! I will reserve my mind. Car. Good so. Fil. In brief the plot is this. To rid the town Of manny warring masters, and to place In lieu of them one ruler paramount. 12 -- THE BAGLIONI The citizens, as you well know, esteem Thy kin a pestilential brood. With joy And acclamations they will welcome here A wise and kindly lord, who would protect The state from strife within and foes without. Once seize the Baglioni (all but thou And Carlo here), swift banish them beyond The confines of dependent states, and then, The wolves all gone, a single Griffin Lord Would rule with haughty crest and iron claws. The state would prosper fast. See how our friend, Fair Florence, blossomed when the Medici Sat on her ducal throne. So would we bloom And flower over the land of Italy, Till Rome herself should tremble on her hills, And Peter's mighty chair should wait on Umbria. Grif. Well spoken, good Filippo! True, your plot Walks masquerading in a brave disguise, Crowned with the gentle wreath of peace, and clad In glowing garments of prosperity. But still, methinks, I see a rebel's heart Bene?th this fine array. But tell me more. Who shall the GrifRn be to sit so high Above the crowd? Who is this Emperor? This little Ca?sar of the hills? Fil. Yourself ! Je7-. Thou art the man! Car. ■ A crown lies at your feet! Grif. Ah! Now I know that you are traitors all. So! You would tempt me with a pretty crown? As if I were a babe and thou the nurse, Filippo, saying: "Come and see the shine Of dancing sunlight. Stretch thy hands and grasp The glittering thing." So yearned I for the moon When I was scarcel}^ weaned. Fil. Fine biting words. My Grifonetto! But 'tis not the show Alone, the empty symbol of a power Unreal we offer you. Away with crowns. THE BAGLIONI ' 13 Or even laurel leaves! lleinain a knight, A simple man at arms ; no foolish terms. Plain Grifonetto for the mighty lord Of our new Umbrian state; but at his name Each neighbouring duke, count, prince — aye, every one^ Shall rock upon his tawdry little throne. Grif. Words, words, Filippo, traitorous lies each one. The stars show no such future state. Besides, Here's one Baglione has his honour left. Go spread your crowiis and gleaming villainies Before some better purchaser. Your price Is not quite high enough to tempt Poor Grifonetto. Have you not yet more? Something still more alluring in your wares? Dictatorship, perhaps. Pontifical Tiaras, or the Emperor's Throne? Come, come! My faith is still for sale — a slight advance And there you have me fast. Fil. It pleases you To jest. Car. Reserve thy wit for other times More fitting. This is solemn as the Mass. Grif. Aye, by the Mass it is; and by the Mass And every holy thing you can profane By thinking on, I'll speak you solemn words. Had I but known that these companions here — My kinsman, Carlo; fair Jeronimo, my friend; Filippo, uncle by the blood — In truth If I had ever dreamt that they were false, I would have slain them all this very night, Before they could pollute my city's streets With their black-hearted shadows. Treachery! That thing which grows like a foul thundercloud To burst at last in bloody rain! That thing Which fires men's minds with madness; stifles love And honour; turns us into human beasts. Go! leave me, lest I make you pay a price In bitter coin for tempting me. Away! Take off your crowns to other marts. Away ! 14 ' THE BAGLIONI And if I catch a sound of this again, Though hghtest whisper on the morning air. Not all our friendship in the past will save Your bodies from the headsman, or your souls From hell ! Fil. Your words shall be obeyed, my lord. (Sarcastically.) Bow, slaves! [The three rnen bow mockingly. (Three together mockingly.) Farewell, my righteous lord, we'll try Again ! Jer. Come! Leave him. He is dangerous. Car. Mind thee, Good cousin, treachery lurks nearer home. Look for it there — this thundercloud — blood — -rain. Jer. My friend, learn well that ill word treacher}'-. It sometimes is domesticated. We three are bachelors It never rains ! Grif. Bah! You are jealous of my happiness. Car. Who would not be — Jer. With such a wife as yours ! Fil. The city of Perugia entire Is jealous of Zenobia's husband. Grif. (sarcastically). The courtier, not the conspirator, Speaks now. It more becomes you. Fil. So men say. Grif. And yet for once the courtier speaks truth. Where lives another like Zenobia? Who else is fairer than the morningtide When dawn speeds lightfoot on the summer hills? Car. (cynically). And who is so unworthy as yourself Of all this blessedness? Grif. Indeed who is? I love my life, which after all is said Lasts but a moment long ! We love red wine ; Eh, Carlo? And the dice, and others' wives! And when night comes, a forage and a song. But then I love Zenobia so much more. Alone she reigns the nnstress of my soul. Fil. And we three love Perugia the best THE BAGLIONI 15 Of all our mistresses. Grif. I love her too. Ah, my Perugia! What evil fates Hunt fast and hard. Thou art so strong, so fair, Yet ever hangs the blackened veil of strife Between thee and the peaceful sun. Each year This wretched square runs with thy children's blood, The daylight shines on deadly brawls, the stars' Thin beam falls on the murderer's blade. And now You teU me I can win for thee the prize Of peace and freedom, under iron rule Firm wielded by this master hand. You're wrong. The means are everything, the end is naught. Nor ever yet has foul play wrought fair deed. Peace bought of treachery is worse than war. Go visions; for, like all this rolling world, You are but dreams. Beyond stands out the law Immutable. God help my keeping it! [Grifonetto turns and walks slowly to the fountain rail, on which he leans absorbed in thought. Car. (yawning). Come, let's be off. Here come the students. Jer. Aye. Grifone's solemn as a morning owl. Fil. I never saw him so sedate. Greetings! (To Perugino, who has entered with students, among them Raffaello Santi.) [[Exeunt Filippo, Carlo, and Jeronimo, exchanging greetings with Perugino and students as they pass. Raj. Who is yon thoughtful knight? Per. Know'st thou him not? 'Tis Grifonetto, noblest of our young Perugians. Grif. {Turning suddenly, awakening from his reverie.) Who spoke aloud my name? 'Tis Maestro Perugino, by my soul! And these his faithful band of neophytes. How go the frescoes, master? Does your brush Still lightly sketch things secular, or does It spread abroad the immortal pictured fame Of our old town in work for Holy Church — , 16 ■ THE BAG LION I Sweet saints and meritorious martyrdoms? Per. Nay, Grifonetto, I am still upon The paintings of the Cambio; helped much By my young friends here. Grif. Who is this young man In scarlet cap — the one with golden hair? Per. He's my best pupil — Raffaello. Grif. ' Ah! I've heard of him. Per. Thou'lt hear of him again, And still again. The years will not be long [As Perugino converses, other students enter Palazzo Communale. When Italy will ring with him. Mark well: Of all the youths my skill has ever taught He is the ablest. Such fidelity ! Such eye for color! Such sweet grace of line! In future times 'twill be the proudest boast Of Perugino that this gifted youth Learned from his hand. Raf. I pray you not so much! My shame will overcome me. Grif. A truce, man! Such vast embarrassment of praise would turn The head of many a dainty courtier. But why should learned lips converse of me? [Turning and laying his hand on Perugino's shoulder. What said my master, there, of all the arts? Ah! I can hear him: "See that youthful knight, 'Tis Grifonetto, wild young cub, who roams The byways after dark; a ready smile For every pretty wench, a ready blade To prod the burgher's fattening ribs, an eye Too keen for quarrels, too fond taste for wine. A knee that bends to no man, and not much To God. A falcon of his fiery brood! Beware of him when once the sun has based His order-loving beams behind the hills, And faint light-minded torches cast their rays To lead home nobles, revellers, and thieves! THE BAGLIONI 17 He is a Baglione, trust him not. Draw back and let the condottierri pass! Draw back and give the robber lords good room! The roisterers care no more for your j^oung flesh Than eagles mind the hare. No! not a breath. A jostle and the swords are out. A word, And one more corpse blocks up the narrow lane! The merry revellers stream on their way, While you lie there till dogs or watchmen come To carry off your limbs to sepulture. Then have a care, whene'er with torch and plume The Baglioni walk beneath the stars, Seek out the friendly shade till they have gone! Is not this true, friend Raffaello, say? Was it not thus good Master Perugino spoke? Raf. Not so, my lord; he said not thus indeed, But to the contrary. That you were brave And fair, most knightly of the nobles here In his Perugia. Grif. Best of painters all, I crave your pardon. These are heaping coals Upon a foolish head. Yet you are wrong. Astorre's fairer, Simonetto's heart Is twice as brave, and Marcantonio's soul Is fuller far of chivalry than mine. Per. Nay, Grifonetto, I meant what I said. Brave are the Baglioni, every one, But you are kindlier than them all. Grif. Hush, friend, Lest I grow angry. Yet, whate'er of grace Or charity there may be in my heart I owe not to myself. No honour here Is due for any Ornament of mind, But to my mistress, fair Zenobia, Whose life is decorated with all gifts Of virtue and of beauty; whose sweet soul Has so perchance shed down its light upon' My poor unworthy love, that I have caught Some echo of its radiance. For her 18 ' THE BAGLIONI Pour out your generosity of praise, My Perugino; her from whom e'en now I have delayed my coming far too Iqng! •-■ - * Per. We, also, should be well upon our way. Farewell! My greeting to Zenobia, Your noble lady Raf. And may I, my lord, Dare also send a greeting? [Perugino and Raffaicllo start up steps of Palazzo Comnninale. Grif. That thou may'st. It shall be given. Enter messenger in the livery of the Baglioni. Who's this of my house? Mes. My lord Grifone, messengers do scour The town and scan the gates to search for you, Sent by my lady. Grif. What! She is not ill? Mes. Not so, my lord, but anxious for the sight Of your return, for which she has now watched Since earliest dawn. Grif. Go thou back to her And say I ride upon a storm of haste. [Tosses gold piece to messenger, who exits in haste. Here's guerdon for thy luck in finding me. See, Perugino! Does the world hold aught So true and kind as my Zenobia? Nay, stay me not. The swift breath of the morn Blows not half fast enough to waft me there, Were I a pinioned hawk, instead of this Poor leaden-footed creature man. Farewell! [Exit Grifonetto. Per. {At head of steps of Palazzo with Rapfaello.) Now mark thee, Raffaello, he is doomed. The gods love Grifonetto far too well ! [Exeunt {by door into Palazzo Communale) Peru- gino and Raffaello with these last words, leav- ing the stage'empty. Bells chime the morning hour. CURTAIN. THE BAGLIONI 19 ACT II. Scene. Great Reception Hall in Atalanta's Palazzo. — Stone walls hung with tapestry; ceiling with painted wooden beams; large velvet-covered chairs; tall bronze candelabra in corners etc. — Doors right. — Heavy curtains drawn left. — Assembled company in festive apparel. — Time, evening of same day. As curtain rises murmur of voices in conversation is heard. — Present, Astorre, Guido, Grifonetto, Simonetto, Filippo, Carlo, Jeronimo, Atalanta, Lavinia, Zenobia, and others. — Men in indoor dress, unarmed. Demetrius, in a long fur-trimmed robe, seated, surrounded by a group of attentive young men and women. Enter Marcantonio. Marc. Am I too late again? Is that the one — The wise man from the Isles of Greece — who's said To know his Plato, Aristotle, all Our new philosophy as well, indeed, As condottierri know their swords? Ata. 'Tis true. And you shall hear his words which, fair and wise, Flow in his speech with limpid streams that clothe The subtlest thought in beauty, yet hides naught Of the intent. La. And he can decorate Some solemn theme with such a wealth of grace That, like the temples in his native land, All men will marvel at its outward show, While deep and holy things are held within. Car. Now by the gods, what wisdom from fair lips ! Must nature, in this newest age of ours. Strew all her lavish favours on our wives And mothers? Beauty and devotion cling To them already. Now must learning too Be snatched away from us? Ata. Not while we have So great a champion as our new sage. Come! [To Marcantonio. Thy bow to wisdom first 1 30 THE BAGLIONI Marc. Wc welcome you, Demetrius. Now that the kindly star Of learning rises ever higher here, And sheds abroad a widening beam Of gentle light upon our land, we greet With joy all scholars; be they strange Or long well known. But most of all we hail One who can claim for birthplace that great land Of Greece, the foster-mother of our minds. Dem. There speaks the voice of learning, the kind bond Which joins, as in a single kin, all those Who know the fellowship of intellect. Oft has the wandering scholar heard its words Of welcome, but not ever since the time Far gone when melancholy Sappho sang Her odes to listening maids, and greetings fell From her soft lips upon the visitors To rocky Lesbian shores — not since those days Has hospitality shone with a fairer form, Or wisdom graced more beauty with her crown. Car. (To Jeronimo.) In sooth, old age has not forgot his wit! La. Great master, if your deep philosophy Can teach such winsome speech, I marvel much That these young warriors do not give up All their pursuits, and study to be wise. Dem. Fair damsel, when the hair is white, and when The rusty sword has long hung on the wall, Then wisdom comes with her eternal youth To quicken sluggish heartbeats. But the path Leads up a weary mountain side of years. Ah! once there was a time I would have scorned To rest when so much beauty stood close by, For even in our Greece the marble forms Which teach us of the ancient da3^s do not Contain the only loveliness. Zen. Tell us, I beg, about your native isles. Marc. Aye, tell THE BAGLIONl 21 How first you came to tread the stony path Of learning, for at last we, too, would find The way. Dem. The road to wisdom, gentle friends, Leads first through doors of sorrow, like to those Twin ivory gates which lead to sleep and death, Sung by that greatest bard Virgilius. But know, when I was young, the Infidel Had ravished all our land. (E'en yet, I hear. He bids a bold defiance to the fleets Of lordly Venice.) So we all were poor And terror-stricken. Scarce dared venture we From out our mountain fastnesses. And yet My father was a worthy man of note, Much learned and wise. Oft would he tell to me Tales of our ancient brilliancy, when Greece Was torchlight for the world. This was at night, Beneath the steepled pines, or by the fire In winter-time. By day, I roamed the hills To guard the sheep from wolves and Saracens. Now, one deep noontide, when I slept, my sheep About me grazing in the sun, a pipe, Sweet shrilling on the hillside, wakened me. And there before me stood a stately maid, As beautiful as dawn. In silence, first. She gazed at me, and then the winged words Flew from her lips. "Awake, Demetrius! A second time Greece calls a listening world. Her gods are not all dead, nor all forgot Her poets and philosophers. Learn thou Of them, and carry far and wide the fire Of their wise burning words." Once more the plaint Of unseen reeds pierced the still mountain air. And she was gone. Then did I know, in truth, Athena lived again; and from that time My life has been one long obedience To her divine request. Atn. A noble task indeed ! 32 THE BAGLIONI Dem. {rising). And now I bid you all farewell, for soon Comes heavy-lidded sleep to men of years. La. Then let us be your escort while we may! [A servant has entered bearing an embossed and gilded leathern case which Demetrius opens, dis- closing a large crystal goblet with elaborately chased ivory base and holder. Dem. One moment! I had near forgot the gift To our fair bride. It is an humble one. Nor gold nor precious stones have I amassed In my life's wanderings — only some few And meagre treasures of the mind. But this Was given me by a Moorish sorcerer Whom I befriended when he fled from Spain. 'Tis said whoever drinks from it upon The stroke of midnight sees the secret acts Of enemies, the treacheries of friends, The true complexion of a lover's heart. La. (receives the goblet and places it upon the side table, where guests admire it). A hundred thanks. Upon the stroke of twelve I'll quench my thirst and prove Astorre's mind. Marc. A work of supererogation. Sim. 'Twould need no magic to assay such love. [Exeunt Demetrius and guests laughing and talking, escorted by attendants with torches to light the dark outer passages, leaving Filippo, who is examin- ing the goblet, and Carlo, who lags behind the rest. Fil. (half to himself). Suppose the midnight bells should ring upon Our Grifonetto drinking in this cup. They'd sound a bitter symphony to him. Car. (passing). What's that? Fil. (setting down goblet). Stay, here's another wedding gift. [Carlo returns as Filippo picks up a sealed packet. Car. But this is sealed! Fil. (breaking packet). So are the gates of heaven. [Extracting a small ivory plaque. Vanucci! by the fates! Our painter's soul Has quite forgot for once his golden pence. THE BAGLIONI 33 Car. Perhaps he sees a future customer. Fil. Perhaps. It is a pretty bauble. See! [Showing it to Carlo. The two poor guilty lovers and the book, Fresh slipped from our immortal Dante's verse, Clasp'd in each other's arms. Car. 'Tis charming. Fil. Strange ! How like Zenobia's headdress. Car. True. Indeed He must have copied it — she wore the same To-night. Fil. {thinking). And Marcantonio, what dress wore he? Car. I know not; what of that? Fil. {eagerly). Think, think! Was nothing recognizable about His doublet, cloak, hose, anything? Car. You're mad ! Fil. Yes, if you like, but think — his doublet? Car. No — Quite usual. Fil. His cloak? Car. The same. Fil. His hose? Car. His hose? I have it: they were striped across In red and white like this. Fil. I mind it now. Astorre twitted him about the mode. Car. And Marcantonio said they came last week From Paris, where they were the fashion. Fil. And no one else had worn such yet. Car. Those were His very words. Fil. Quick ! Where's a pen, a knife, Quick, anything! Car. Here's my dirk. Fil. {Taking up painted ivory and marking it.) Scratch lines So. Prick my arm. A little blood to mark The colouring. Rub it well in — more — good! 24 ' THE BAGLIONI Now have we Dante's criminals in love Stamped with the ver}"^ guise of our two friends Zenobia and Marcantonio. Car, What are you driving for? Fil. Wait, you shall see ! Now give the goblet, and your knife again. A little paring and the disk will fit. [Paring wory plaque until it fits the goblet, into the bottom of which he inserts it. Now the wine-flask. Fill up the crystal cup. [Handing the filled goblet to Carlo. Gaze in before you drink. What do you see? Car. (Taking cup and looking in astonished.) Deep down within the amber wine they float, Zenobia and Marcantonio, Clasped swaying in each other's arms! Fil Ha! ha! The gods play in our hands to-night. Car. The Devil! Fil. 'Tis all the same. God made the Devil Car. And The Devil made Filippo — finished work Of Art. Fil. True! Here they come. Set down the cup [Noise of returning guests, etc., etc. There, in the selfsame spot. Toss me those dice. We've stolen a moment more to gamble in. [As company enters Filippo and Carlo are dis- covered tossing dice. Ata. Inveterate gamblers! Has the mind's bright gold No charms for your poor souls? Car. He's beaten me Until the only gold I have is such — ■ Mind ducats, mental crowns, imaginings. Fil. {To Grifonetto.) How beautiful Zenobia is to-night! Her headdress so becomes her. Grif. Does it not? It is an ancient one, long handed down; THE BAGLIONI 35 Some say a Sforza wore it in the days When Dante languished in Ravenna. Car. (To Marcantonio.) Ah! How brave our warrior grows in French array. Trans-Alpine fashions, fancy striped hose! Marc. I know you're jealous, of my finery. Car. (To Grifonetto.) See this coxcomb. How his limbs are built In sections like the columns on the front Of the Palazzo. Marc. Yet they look at least As if they would support a man, whilst yours, Good cousin Carlo, they were bought, methinks, A bargain from some hungry Jew ! [Some of the young men have strolled to the table and are drinking. As. (To SiMONETTo.) Your health. Gui. (To Grifonetto.) A health to the new bride. [They take goblets. Car. (coming up). Stop, cousin, stop! Grif. Why stop? Car. I would not drain that crystal cup For all the wealth of Venice. Gui. Tell us why. Car. Why? See you not the goblet is all carved With mysteries, crissed-crossed with pentagrams, And matters astrological? Grif. (holding it up to light). Aye, so. But what of that? Car. (mysteriously). It is a magic cup. Gaze in it and you see the future. Gui. Well! Car. The gods show nothing good or beautiful To those who pry into their secret thoughts. Fil. Perchance thou art afraid to rend the veil? Grif. Fear is a word was lost when I was born. Can I not fight the future as the past? 26 THE BAGLIONI Car. (approaching Grifonetto and chanting in a low voice). " With swords you fight, The Pope wth bulls, But I fight with my tongue." Grif. What riddle's that? Car, Why, we three conquerors Should then be friends, thyself, the Pope, and I ! Grif. Is that aU? Car. Nay then, gaze within the cup. (Chanting.) A lady and a gentleman Upon a starlit square; And there's a third; if I were he I would that I were there! Grif. (lifting goblet) . To fair Lavinia ! May she be loved And happy as Zenobia and I. Car. (aside). Now shall he see his fate. [Grifonetto drinks, gazing into cup with increas- ing interest, then anger and alarm. Grif. What folly's this? [He dashes cup to the ground into a thousand pieces. Car. What's that? Has the snake bitten? Grif. Nay, the gods Are now avenged. The crystal was too pure, It irked me with its perfect symmetry. Fil. Mind him not. He is a man of pranks. Car. The lights are burning low. Fil. Farewell ! Car. Come on. Impatient Marcantonio waits for us. And taps upon the gaming-board. Farewell! [Exeunt Carlo and FrLippo laughing. During preceding conversation servants have been extinguishing festal torches and all of the guests have departed. — Grifonetto remains moodily gazing at the broken crystal. Enter Zenobia, hesitating, then approaching Grifonetto, who is standing with his back to the door through tohich she has entered. Grif. (to himself). Bah! juggling fool's tricks; and yet, and yet! Zen. My lord ! What mood is this that clasps your brow THE BAGLIONI 27 With melancholy diadem? Grif. (still half to himself). What mood? A humour of sick mockery. A dream Which strides mj^ spirit with its shrivelled limbs! Zen. My lord ! I never saw you in this vein. Surely you once were wont to open up The secret springs of grief and pour your woes Into a willing ear. I pray you tell The reason of this sorrow. Grif. Can you not By any means guess the complexion of 't? [Seizing her shoulders. Look in my face. Is there no deep-set fire Within my pupils that reflects a flame Of your own mind? Is there no creasing down Of brows that indicate a shrinking heart? Is there no reading of those signs which mark The soul struck cold? Zen. I see as much indeed, Therefore I turned me back to comfort you. Grif. Aye. Comfort me thou shalt. See where the glass Lies shattered on the stone. Gather a piece And read the sign in it. Zen. What can you mean? Your words are riddles, your looks foreign gleams Which hint at nameless things. Grif. Nameless they are, And nameless shalt thou be if they are true. [Picking up a glass fragment and gazing info it. Come, we'll read together. This fragment here Shines just as brightly as the perfect globe; Reflects as straight, is smooth and jewelled as much. Yet it is worthless and the edges cut. Zen. I know not what insinuation's here. My lord ; but if it has some touch with me. Or if there's aiight that's sharp or broken off In my afTection, then I'd rather give My willing throat to the new cutting edge And turn this false white diamond to a ruby 28 THE BAGLIONI Made true by my red blood — true as my love For thee, true as my life is worthless quite Without thy trust in me. Grif. Nay, not so fast. The glass is but the frame. Look in its soul. [Holdmg up the glass so that the light shines through it. Are there no stains to mar its purity? No lustful colours in the heart of it? See! Ther'es an amethyst, a rainbow gleam, Red, blue a harlequin of tints. Zen. But look ! [Taking fragment. These manifold dyes lie not within the glass Save where the flickering light shines through. Now hold The crystal here, in the deep shade. Where then Are fled the hues? Put out the mimic sun, The rainbow melts into the darkening night Which greets the gaze, pale and immaculate. So frowns the world, suspect, in painted dress Seen with distorted eyes of jealousy. Grif. Thus would I fain believe. Zen. Why not believe? I know not what suspicion has crept in Unheralded between our faith and love, Nor what unholy visions you have seen In that poor shattered cup; but this I know, That never have I in a vagrant glance Or by a fl5ang word given cause for this. Who's the informant? Carlo, soaked in wine? Jeronirao, the gambler? Filippo? No one can lie like our Filippo. Ah! Can you not see these men are treachery Incarnate— plotting, always plotting more And still more? Art thou then the gentle dove For their thin nets? I smell their hands in this! Sappers of state and poisoners of love! For you I would kneel in the dust to beg Forgiveness for an uncommitted sin. But that these swashing revellers — Cowards! THE BAGLIONI 29 Let them accuse me here before my face. Here I await them; and thou, sword in hand, To mete out justice— death to me in guilt, But, being innocent, death to the three. So should their accusations stand the test And falsely drown in their own punishment. I am a Baglione as your wife. But Sforza runs the red blood in my veins And here Zenobia Sforza cries aloud For justice and extenuation. Grif. Can flashing temper, or the resonance Of words, or mute appeal of loveliness Heal up the canker? Or can all thy grace Unite again these shattered glittering things Into original perfection? Zen. No! But can the infusion of those subtle souls, A gambler, drunkard, and a liar, rock The noble edifice of our affection down — Crumble it into fragments slight as those, [Crunching the broken pieces with her foot. And wreck it as the storm blows down the leaves, By one small drop of instilled jealousy? Who then destroyed the smoothness of our lives? Was it FiUppo? Grif. Nay, 'twas not Filippo. Zen. Then Carlo? Grif. Not Carlo. Zen. Jeronimo? Grif. Nor yet Jeronimo. Zen. Who then? Ah, God! Is this a lightsome charge to found on air, A little thing to fling at wifely fame — Adultery— is it adultery? If not, 'tis nothing! Grif. Shall I charge it, then? Zen. Aye, charge it, if thou canst, with all the proofs. Or, if there are no proofs, why then suspect Me on the slightest talk of slanderers! 30 THE BAGLIONI What do men say? (Listening.) Hark! these whisperings Upon the night. 'Tis rumour, thousand-tongued, That leaps along like fire from ear to ear ! Come, listen to it well. Does one word breathe Of faithlessness? Or even if within The abyss of your secret mind there be But one small spark of reason to light the torch Of jealousy, then kill me and be done! Grif. Would God the torch were quenched. Ahi, tell me more, Persuade me more. Convince me that the vision I saw just now within that foolish globe Was but a picture of my high-wrought thoughts. Like them a falsest fantasy ! Weigh down The scales. I am attorney for my love Against my vigilance. Zen. Then let me plead, I ask but justice. Shall I stand condemned Upon a hint from those who seek to use You as a tool for their conspiracies; Upon the witchery of a tired brain That weaves sham visions? ShaU you match these trifles Against the love of years? The tenderness Which lingers on your slightest word, which wraps You, even when you feel it least, with care And constant sympathy? Shall you let slip My tried affection, like a worn-out cloak, Upon the slurs of a bystander? Ah! Have you forgot so soon the time when Love Lit all our nights and days with flaring torch, And Life marched garlanded with song? Grif. Forgot? Can angels forget their home in paradise? Zen. The gates are open, who can keep you out? Say that to-night has never been. Say once That these suspicions were but mockeries, Dreams, nothing. Grif. I believe I They're nothing else. 'Tis nothing, nothing but a mania, Frenzy, a tissue of delirious lies THE BAGLIONI 31 Enslaving my poor wits — a crystal vision Deep conjured from the gloom. See, see, I cast Them off, these black-veiled dreams, and wake again Into the day of confidence. [He goes to curtain and pulls it open, letting in a band of moonlight. Shine, stars! Blow, scented breezes ! Look how the red moon Drifts down the deep-eyed night. Nay, not the moon, It is the golden-throned smi who flaunts His heavenly blazonry upon the dark 1 Zen. Yes ! Yes ! The miracle of midnight dawn That only you and I can see. My lord, How could you doubt me? Crrif. Now my doubts have gone; Gone like the sea-gulls north upon the Spring. Zen. But when the Winter comes again? Grif. Nay, they have gone forever. Naught shall come To separate us now. Ze7i. You are so sure? Grif. Aye, till that day when heavy-fingered Death Shall lay his grizzly hand upon our hearts. Let him alone become our severer ! [Zenobia shivers. You shiver, and your hands are cold! Zen. Nothing ! The wind is rising. Come. Who's there? [Enter Filippo softly. Fil. Naught more alarming than your good Filippo! Ah! What a model pair! These long years wed And still the honeymoon ! Grif. Leave us, good uncle. Forget that you were here! Fil. Would that I might! But I have business of much moment. Grif. Bah! Zen. Cabals, intrigues. Are days not long enough But that the pure nights must be venomed too? Fil. Forgive me; but the balance-wheel of Fate 32 THE BAGLIONI Swings on my errand! Zen. (cynically). Give it then a twist For me! I'll leave you, gentlemen. Farewell! Grif. (kissing her hand). Farewell, I'll not be long! Fil. Farewell, and forgive ! [Exit Zenobia. Grif. (sternly). What now? Is't not enough by ill-timed lies To poison my mind against the innocent. To plot a breach between my wife and me? Thou hast the look of a lean and hungry wolf. Go prowl about alone and leave a space For honest men to breathe in! What is it? Fil. Not much. A pair of horns upon thy cap. That's all! Grif. (seizing him). Thou liest. Prove it, or, by the mass, I'll murder thee! I have enough of this! Insinuations, innuendoes, hints! From Carlo first and now from thee. Prove it! Prove it, I say, before the lightning strikes! Fil. Then listen, fool! And take your fingers off! Zenobia has gone to wait for you? Grif. Thou saw'st her go. Fil. Aye, so did I, in truth. But I saw more than that. Grif. Indeed! what then? Fil. I caught a questioning glance that showed her thought. I'd stake my life that she has gone to warn Her Marcantonio. Grif. Good wager ! You shall keep it. The proofs or else your life! Fil. Behind the arras here there is a door Pushed by a secret spring. The stairs descend Into that next hall, as you know. If she has gone to Marcantonio's chamber She must cross by the hall. No other way Is possible. Does she know of the door? Grif. No, nor I till to-night. THE BAGLIONI 33 -^'^- Then open it. Grif. Wh}' not? Yon will see nothing but a hall, An empty hall; your own foul visions, Perchance, also, the dream of your own doom. Which surely I shall wreak upon your head When this last trick has failed and I have proved Zenobia's innocence. Think well, I say, Before you let me open it. Think well. For were j^ou sure of your own evil fate As I am that Zenobia is safe In her own chamber, you would leap away Before a finger touched the spring as though Ten thousand serpents hid within its coil. While you have time, then, save yourself. Fit. Open! Grif. It were a pity for so good a man To die unshriven. Fil. Go, open the door. I swear I speak Heaven's truth, or Hell's, but still It is the truth. If I have lied, there's no Harm done at last except to me. If not, here's God's own chance to fathom her — Yourself concealed behind the curtain there. Grif. I go. But mark, your life shall be the price When this insinuation is proved false. [Grifonetto pulls aside arras, touches spring, and opens secret door on a crack under the direction of FiLippo, who then stands close behind him. — They wait in silence for a moment, when Grifonet- to starts violently and is on the point of rushing through the door. But Filippo covers Grifonet- To's mouth ivith his hand and drags him back. Grif. 'Tis she! Ah, God! If only I were armed to-night, The day had never dawned for them again — Nor shall it yet. See if the way is clear, Filippo. Quick; that I may reach my sword And kill before my soul breaks with its rage 1 Zenobia — Marcantonio's paramour ! I would have sworn by Christ upon His cross. 34 THE BAGLIONI Filippo, that there never was a wife More pure ! Zenobia Sf orza ! Whj' ; her name Itself has come to be a synonym For virtue. All of Umbria rings forth The praise of this flower of faithfulness! And now the crystal mirror of her mind Is cracked in fragments, all reflecting back My love in rainbow infamies. Now, now, I know that Hell is here in Italy ! Come ! I shall slake my thirsty wrath in blood, The only drink that quenches treachery ! [Seizes Filippo's ha7id and starts towards the door. Filippo holds him back. Fil. Nay, j^ou are mad! Black rage has sullied up The clear streams of your thought. Wait ! Never yet Has deed done in the heat of wrath struck home Like cold, malignant vengeance. Grif. Thy hands off! Or else I brain thee with my fists. Fil. Madman ! What would you do? To slay Zenobia And Marcantonio first, and perish then, Yourself within an hour? The bravi make Short work of fools. Grif. I care not, let me go! The pillars of my uni\-erse have gone. I would drain to the dregs my brimming cup Of A'engeance, and then die. Fil. Drain it thou shalt 1 And such a mighty beaker full of wrath As never since the days of ancient Rome Has hung unpoured above the heads Of unsuspecting victims ! Grif. What mean you? Is not my itching sword-blade long enough? Fil Aye, but listen, while I unfold my plan. To your brief stroke it is as thunderclap To music. Grif. Marcantonio will have gone ! THE BAGLIONI 35 Fil. Nay, let him go It matters naught. The net Is woven — if you but consent — has caught Them fast already. Grif. Anj^thing, by Heaven, For vengeance ! So fling honour to the winds ! Affection, chivalry, blood-kinship, pride. Humanity. Strangle them all, still-born Abortions ! Away life, and call grim hate To WTap me in her horrid arms. — Your plan ! Fil. Cool thyself, Grifonetto. Let thy hate Freeze up this frenzy with her icy wit, And listen to me with intelligence. Grif. Proceed, I wait! Fil. This, then's, the plan — You know How all the Baglioni are at hand. Assembled for the celebration feasts Of our Astorre's marriage. You know How brave they are, and how they scorn at night To guard themselves with waiting men-at-arms, As other nobles do, preferring much To trust to their own skill and mighty name. Thus holding strength and valorous repute A substitute for prudence and the pikes Of hirelings. Grif. Aye, we are brave — cursed brood Of lustful wolves! But what of that? Fil. Their pride Shall be their ruin! In the night, we four, Carlo, Jeronimo, yourself, and I, Armed to the teeth and followed by our men. Like stealthy lions penetrate the dens Of these same wolves, and, when the sun shines forth Again, your vengeance has been done. A king Of beasts inhabits where the ravening wolves Snarled yesterday. One ruler stands alone To guide the city's new-born destinies, And once again Perugia is free ! For me, ambition; freedom for the town; For thee, the bloodiest vengeance in the world I 36 THE BAGLTONI A trinity of deeds! Grif. (bitterly). I could admire Thy sophistry, FiUppo, were my heart Not bursting with the strain of losing all I held most intimate. But, false or not, Thy words are oil upon my wounds. Wlio saj-^s That Grifonetto has turned traitor too? And yet 'tis true, as there's a hell for thee, Filippo. Grifonetto, cynosure Of all the looks in wide-eyed Umbria! Fil. Not traitor. Liberator ! Avenger ! Grif. Nay, decorate the appellation of 't As you may wish, the deed remains. But more! Fil. The signal for the rush shall be the fall Of a great stone within the inner court Of Guide's palace. Each one, with our braves. Shall then speed to our several tasks of love. The rest is eas}^ Grif. Would my heavy heart Could shatter on the stone and expiate This guilt and grief for all ! No other sign Would then be needed for this treachery. Fil. Till then, no word, no look, to give a clue To your intention. For the nonce j^ou are Comedian in the great tragedy. Smile, jest, feign all outrageous merriment, And eat your heart in silence till the time When vengeance, striding with o'ertaking steps, Shall strike in one fell blow our enemies. Grif. So shall it be. Doomed are the Baglioni, all ! Replete with lust and feasting they dance down Toward the grave ! Leave me, Filippo. Go ! I hate the truth and thee! [Grifonetto sinks into a chair. Fil. I go at once. [Exit Filippo. — Pause. Grif. {rising suddenly). Now has the current of this infamy Swept from my soul all vestige of restraint And borne me helpless on its tossing waves THE BAG LION I 37 Of passion. Grifonetto is not here, But some new hell-born fun^, bellowing His curses to an unknown self. Here stands A stranger in this once familiar form, Whose poisoned blood now throbs its maddened rush Of hate incarnate through my veins. Hail then, Mysterious Avenger! Steel the nerves; Grip firm the heart ; instill the iron force Of thy great purpose through each liinb. Turn out All pity, honour, love, and bid them go A-shrieking through the streets until they find A domicile in foolish souls still graced AVith some humanity Come, Vengeance, come ! And fold me in thy sable wings. Enwrap My soul with l^loody kisses, so I walk Upon mj' errand shod with destiny ; Swift and ine^•itable as the wind, And cruel as the Fates. Come, Vengeance, come ! Thou art my onlj^ mistress, my desire Flames up to thee. With every breath I crave Thy fierce embrace ! Knit thy ferocity Into my soul, until I live revenge — Sleep, wake, dream, plot a limitless revenge; And stride at last to that night consummate, Incarnate vengeance, brandishing aloft The sword of Death himself, the Infinite Avenger ! [Long paufie. Ah, Zenobia! [Grifonetto sinks, sobbing violently, into the chair covering his face with his hands. CURTAIN. 38 THE BAGLIONI ACT III. Scene. The anteroom of Marcantonio's sleeping-chamber in Atalanta's palace. — A week afterwards. — Late at night. — Open casement discloses neighbouring roofs and towers in the moonlight. — To the left, fireplace and door. — One torch only gives light, except candles in heavy candelabra on table in centre of room. — Seated around the table are gathered, playing cards and drinking, Mar- CANTONio, Carlo, Simonetto, a7id Filippo. Sim. Thou playest for high stakes ! Marc. They're none too high For me to risk upon a card or die. Car. Take heed, Marcantonio, for God's dice — ■ Marc. Nay, for that, most men's dice are loaded too. So what's the odds? Sim. By Bacchus! There it goes — My last gold crown. Some honest citizen Must bleed his money-bags to recompense Poor Simonetto for this night. Car. Alas ! My purse is empty as my head is full. More of your sack to drown my poverty I [Drinks. Marc. Come, leave the game, you revellers, since chance Not freely smiles upon the young for once. Sim. Aye, let's off! Friend Filippo here is wise And cautious. Let him battle out until The candles pale in sunshine; I'm for bed! Fit. Good ! With Marcantonio I will play Alone — till doomsday if he likes. Marc. Too long, Filippo. I'd play high and short. Fil. To work! Marc. I double! Fil. And again! Marc. Four times as much! Fil. And every crown that I can beg or steal Within the year 1 Car. Filippo, by the gods, THE BAGLIONI 39 Such play is madness ! Sim. This is merry sport; Say naught, mj' Carlo. Marc. All my lands! Fil. By Heaven ! I have none. But I have my honour still. Here goes it, represented by this crown. Once win it, thou canst sell me as a slave ! Marc. Thy honour? Pah! It is not worth the crown Which symbolizes it. Fil. The honour, then, Of the most beautiful of womankind! Marc. An empty boast! Car. Come, drag him off to bed; This is too much! Sim. Come out, Filippo, out. The wine dances too hot in your thin veins! [Seizes Filippo. Fil. Unhand me. I speak truth. Marc. Whose honour, then, Hast thou in hand? Fil. Whose do you think, my friend? Nay, j'ou should know ! Marc. Away! He's drunk! Car. Too true. Marc. Then take him off. I would not play with fools Or drunken men. [Carlo and Simonetto seize him. Fil. Aye, carry me away! For all that I shall win my stakes, for, mark You well, my Marcantonio, they're high As life, unsatisfied as death, and hard To pay up as to obviate the tomb ! [Exeunt Carlo and Simonetto dragging Filippo. Sounds of expostidations, laughter, and. footsteps ' die away down stairway which leads to Marcan- TONio's anteroom door. Marc. I like not that Filippo, nor his wit — [Slowly blowing out candles. 'Tis much too bitter for my taste. Besides, 40 THE BAGLIONl I was a fool to wager with him so. He's naught but a poor bastard with his boasts Of womans' honour. [Going to bedroom door. Maraglia! Sleepest thou? [Listens. He sleeps. So are the humble recompensed. Sleep in his stronghold unassailable But mocks at me. — He sleeps the fortunate And gentle rest of young insouciance; While every passion in the universe Seems to have chosen my veins for battle-ground. Love, anger, longing, fear; and now that last, The worst of all — Suspicion ! Some one knocks ! [Sound of light knocking. He goes to the door and opens it. Who's there? Zenobia! This is madness. Enter Zenobia. Zen. Sh! Not so loud with my name ! Marc. Where is he, then. Your husband, Grifonetto? Zen. 1 left him Asleep. I poured into his drinking-cup A quieting dravxght which Carlo brought me once From a physician in Sienna. Nay ! Be not alarmed. I shook him ere I went. Naught else but thunder could disturb him now. Marc. Pray then that storms ■nail keep away! Zen. And pray as well, no other storms of human wrath May grow, and, gendered in suspicion, break Upon our heads. Marc. He still suspects? Zen. God knows! But ever since that night when he did drop Down at my feet the shivering globe, my soul Has trembled like the breaking crystal cup. Ah, Marcantonio ! My whole life's like A dancer's on the frailest single cord Stretched taut across the grave ! Marc. Thou'rt overwrought ! THE BAGLIONI 41 Come, sit here where the gentle blowing air Will smooth thy brow with its invisible And cooling touch. Look forth. The city sleeps Within the night so silently; as though The stars, all wearied with the watching o'er Men's immemorial destinies, had poured Their heavenly sleeping-draught upon the earth. To quiet human deeds and rest a while ! Zen. Tell me more, — more Antonio, for thy voice Falls soothing on the throbbing sounds that ring Forever in my tired brain alarms And infamies. For when I am away From thee, and Grifonetto looks so hard With those sad eyes of his, my heart grows still. They seem to question me — his eyes. Sometimes he gazes at me suddenly. And then looks swift away. I catch a gleam Sometimes, of subtle anger fluttering Jjike summer lightning, in his scrutiny. Marc. It is impossible that he should know! Zen. Yet ever since that day, a week gone by, An indefinable suspicion grows Upon me. Marc. Yet you've lulled his jealousy. Nor have I seen you till to-night. What then Can he have seen? Zen. And yet — 'Tis like the mist Down on the plains. It comes all unperceived. And suddenly it wraps one shivering Witliin its icy arms. Nor can I drive Away the haunting thought that over us There hang invisible grim threatenings. To-night I've come to warn you. Flee, flee, flee, Antonio, for your sake and mine! Promise! Yes, promise me that you will go to-morrow. Marc. I promise. Zen. God be praised! Marc. Then there are left But these so few sweet passing hours of love 43 THE BAGLIONI To pinnacle our happiness upon? Zen. Yes ; let us drink them to the very last, These moments; let me feel once more the fire Of thy dear lips, before the insatiable Swift future overwhelms us both. The last! I am afraid to-night. Ah, Cruelty ! Why is the world so fierce to lovers? Marc. Nay, Why blame the world which toils thus endlessly? Zen. What then? Is there a God? Marc. Look forth and see ! \Vhen once the sleeping city wakes, each roof Will hide what shame, what want, what infamies, What agonies of death, crimes, sickness, woes — Zen. Where is he, then, the God of all this sin And misery? Marc. I know not. Yet indeed If ever he shines out beyond the veil, It must be in the beauty of a night Like this. Zen. At least that — love and beauty ! Hark, The bells! [They stand silently a moment, then continue speaking while bells chime on. Marc. Another day is born. Zen. So fast, Like moments down the eternal abyss Flutter our little lives! Gleams of feeling Upon the void of time! Zenobia called And Marcantonio. Marc. Aye, who can know How close the hour may be at hand when they Shall be but memories ! [The noise is heard of a heavy stone which falls crashing in the court without, followed by a long- drawn and shrill whistle. Zen. Ah, God! What's that? Marc. Stones crashing in the night? No wind could move Such masonry. The whistle afterwards! THE BAGLIONI 43 Zen. What if it were a signal! Marc. It may be ! Quick, quick, back to your room ! [Going to door with torch. See the way's clear! If Grifonetto's gone, fly to Atalanta's chamber. One kiss. Zen. The last ! [Exit Zenobia. Marc. What can this be? It seems some hidden plan Too intricate e'en for Grifone's touch. Yet he's so subtle. The Baglioni's blood Meanders not for nothing in his veins ! [During this speech there is an increasing noise of tramping ivithout, and a growing sound of voices. What if it were a deeply cunning plan To wreak a double vengeance, after all? One more straw — that Filippo's boast to-night; Filippo has let slip the door, whose key His hand before had turned so carefully ! By Heaven, I see it now ! It stretches out Clear as the moonlight there ! To work, thou fool ! Zenobia' s warned. Now quick that I may scotch This budding flower of vengeance on the stalk. Before its poisonous petals fall upon The victims! [More noise of tramping. Hark! There's tramping. 'Tis too late. It is a signal. Ho ! Awake, awake, [Going to door and pounding violently. Maraglia! There's treachery afoot To-night! Quick, arm yourself! What's that again? Enter Maraglia. They're in the palace! Barricade the door — The only chance! [They hastily barricade the door loith heavy centre table, chairs, beds, etc. Many steps come rushing up the stairs, and those ivithout assail the door violently. Ah, here they come! Mar. My lord ! The door will not hold long. Quick on the roofs 44 THE BAGLIONI While I stand off the rush ! Marc. Come with me too! Mar. Nay, this will give you time ! If possible, I'll f oUow you ; if not, I die content ! Marc. May God at last requite your bravery ! [Einbraces Maraglia hurriedly and escapes out of the open window to neighboring roof. Door finally breaks down, and in rush Grifonetto, Filippo, and following bravi with swords and torches, overwhelming and killing Maraglia, who at first has held them at bay with his pike. Fil. The dog's dead, where's the master? Grif. Search the room ! [Bravi and Filippo search both rooms, ramming all suspected places xvith their sivords. Fil. Where is he? 'Tis incredible he should Have fled! Grif. Suspicion must have crossed his mind; The door is barricaded ! Fil. Prod the squire. And promise him compassion if he tells. [Bravi poke Maraglia, ivho does not move. Useless! His mongrel breath has flown. Grif. (who has looked out of ivindow) . Too late ! Fil. Too late? [Goes to window. Grif. Yes, by almighty Heaven, too late! See! From the ledge there it is but an ell — A leap that any man could take. He's gone Upon the house-tops. {To men.) Quick, scour wide The city, block the gates, search garrets, roofs, Bins, chimneys, everywhere! A thousand crowns To him who brings me Marcantonio's head ! Enter messenger in hot haste. Mes. My lord! Grif. Here's news of him already! Fil. Good! Mes. My lord, your mother Atalanta's fled. Grif. Fled? Mes. And Zenobia. THE BAGLIONI 45 Grif. Thou liest ! Fil. Ah! Grif. (To Brovi.) Kill this foul liar! Mes. By the Sacred Blood, I speak the truth ! The house is full of men — Thy followers. There's not a roon\ in all The palace where they could be hid. And more, A peasant from the western gate reports Them riding out a moment since, their steeds Fast foaming, like the wind, into the dark! Grif. Kill him! Fil. (To messenger.) Flee for your life! [Exit messenger. Grif. So they are gone! Gone, laughing in this desolate night! Zenobia and Marcantonio! The wife and paramour! In vain The slaughter of the others. All in vain The treachery, the careful plots, the days Of treasured misery ! Cursed be the night That hides them in its gloomy veil ! Cursed, stars That light their path! Cursed, fathers that begot. Mothers that bore them! Cursed, the breasts that nursed Their infancy, and cursed be great God Upon His highest throne for making them! Now is that fate unbearable fulfilled Which from its earliest hours has brooded o'er Our luckless race. Now have its greedy claws Snatched from my burning hands their vengeance ! Now Triumphant bare licentiousness has won. To flaunt in crimson robes of victory ! Then laugh, high God; laugh, men and devils all; Laugh, Grifonetto, for the curse has fallen! CURTAIN. 46 THE BAGLIONI ACT IV. Scene. The Piazza, as in Act I. — Late afternoon of the next day. — Sun slowly sets as Act proceeds, colouring the sky when curtain falls. As curtain rises, small groups of citizens are seen discussing with horror and eagerness the events of the preceding night. 1st Cil. This is a sad ending for the wedding feasts. 2d Cit. A bloody one indeed ! 1st Cit. Aye; was ever a city so drenched in gore? 3d! Cit. Mark ye, we'll pay for this. First nobles' blood (would there were more of it !) , then the innocent townsf oiks' . 4th Cit. But this is the most horrible! Never in all my years of witnessing these feuds have I torn down, as just now, the festive banners to wipe up the streets. 3d Cit. 'Tis the greatest pity, say I, that any of the brood are left to greet the sunlight. 1st Cit. 'Twas a foul deed, but I would that Grifonetto had won his stroke. We should then, at least, have had but a single tyrant to reckon with. •id Cit. One or many, 'tis the same. Blood and oppression ! 2d Cit. I knew that fiery comet which shone last month was not for nothing. 1st Cit. And the rainbow ring about the moon a week ago! 4th Cit. And the light before the Virgin at the corner of my house. It went out upon the calmest night I ever remember. 3d Cit. Why did you not interpret these great auguries and make a timely visit out of danger? 2d Cit. Scoff not; here come the priests. 3d Cit. Aye, here they come, to pray when all is over! Enter procession with eucharist, preceded by acolyte ringing bell. — Priests muttering prayers, etc., etc., and exit by door of Duomo. — Crowd of citizens kneel and doff caps as procession passes. 4th Cit. God knows this town has need of intercession for her sins! 1st Cit. Amen, indeed, the stench of all this slaughter must appal the very saints themselves! THE BAGLIONI 47 3d at. The saints must be well used to it, forsooth. Paint them another gonfalon for blood-money ! 2d at. Out on him for a heretic ! [Citizens murmur angrily. Sd at. Here's another; ask him for his opinions ! Enter Perugino walking sadly, with his head boived in thought. 1st at. Greetings, Master Vanucci. Per. (starting from his reverie). This is horrible! Guido, Simonetto, all slain in a night; and Astorre in the arms of his young bride ! Such stupendous treachery ! 2d at. Old Guido, they say, died with the words, " Now my time is come," holding back his face that he might be spared the sight of his own massacre ! 1st at. And Astorre crying, "Unhappy Astorre, ying like a poltroon!" Per. (half to himself). Where then are all the loving gentle saints With whose serene embodiment my brain Has striven so often? Now forever more Their faces must be turned away in pain. The chattering priests — new banners for the church, More altar-pieces, candles, sorrow, prayers! As if the magic hand of Art herself, Nay, though her brush were dipped in human tears, And painted in our hearts' blood, could wipe out The burning stain of such great infamy! Enter RAFFAiiLLO. Ah, Raffaello ! I feared in this night Of riot and treachery some harm had come To thee. 72a/. Nay, master, all the students kept Close to their quarters when they heard the ci'ies, The tramp of armed men, and caught the flare Of torches gleaming in the streets below. Per. But men say Marcantonio made escape To some poor scholar's chamber? Raf. It is true, To Sandros' from Orvietto, where he stayed Until the darkness just before the dawn, 48 THE BAGLIONI When, clad in a rough student's gown, he fled The city gates! Per. And all the rest were slain? Raf. No, some escaped, but few. Per. Those are enough With Marcantonio, to return and wreak Swift retribution on the murderers. Raf. Perhaps. But from my chamber I can see [Excitedly. The great Baglioni palaces. Last night. Being wakeful, I leaned on my casement sill To watch the moonlight far down on the plain. A ray broke from the passing clouds. It seemed A shaft from heaven, it was so beautiful. And, as I looked, I pictured angels there, The Holy Mother, and a gathered host Of saints adoring — so I gazed for long ; When suddenly a crash split the still air, Tearing my reverie. Then muffled shouts Behind the palace walls, lights glinting out From palace windows! All the night I watched Until the dawn, when, thrown down on the streets, I saw the naked corpses of the slain. Ah! They were like the gods of ancient Greece, Those poor stripped bodies, heroes of old time, Or murdered patriots of mighty Rome. Unsepultured they lay there on the stones While we stood gazing, silent, wondering, Upon such proud and splendid forms, naked. Cast forth upon the roadway, yet all clad In beauty and the Majesty of Death! 1st Cit. {elbowing his way through crowd, who have been listen- ing to Raffaello). Here come the three conspirators! 4th Cit. Then let's be off. No good will arise if we're found talking here. 3d Cit. Aye, we'll be wanted soon enough for penance, but never for peace. 2d Cit. Disperse, friends, till we see^who be the next lords of the town, [Exeunt citizens slowly, still in small groups, talking together excitedly. THE BAGLIONI 49 Raf. Too much prudence. I would stay and scorn Them. Per. No! Too much 5routh! Know, Raffaello, that Art's province is to feel, observe, express. But not to act. [Exit Perugino and Raffaello. E titer Grifonetto and Filippo. Fil. The plan has failed Grif. (with gray voice) . I know! Didst see, Filippo, how those here just now Fled from our slow approach? 'Twas horror! Fil. Fah! A group of gossiping traders. Grif. As you like ! / say their speech was low and ominous, Their looks mute curses. Fil. Come! Pluck up thy heart; Has Grifonetto turned a coward? Grif. Nay, Were it but yesterday I would have pricked That lie between your teeth. To-day am I Undone. I have enough of blood. Fil. Mark me. There'll be much more, and that your own and mine, If you do not arouse yourself at last To put the flying leagues between your foes And you. Think you they'll not return, the wolves, To suck their vengeance from us all? Grif. May be! Fil. My soul! Was ever such a man? Awake, Grif one, wake! The hounds are on your track! Soon \\dll their baying ring loud in your ears. Come, hence, before it is too late ! Grif. 'Tis over! The play is done. Is great God never tired Of seeing the self -same tragedy? Ftl. (taking hold of him). Hark thee, My Grifonetto. This last play's not done. The first stroke fails, 'tis true, or half succeeds At most. What then? The stroke's half made, at least. 50 THE BAGLIONI Now for the rest of it. First, from the town; So, that when the Baglioni come to find Revenge, their quarry's given them the shp. Next, gather from the comitry side our men. All we can find; pose as the city's friends, Deliverers from the tyrants' toils ; and then, Back from the plains to storm the town again. The burghers will be friendly; gates will swing Back from their hinges, open wide to those Who'll guard the city's ancient freedom. Then Fugitives as conquerors shall return. There's the play's ending. Take it. It is thine! Grif. What a smooth tongue! Thou shouldst have been a judge, Filippo, or a barrister to plead For criminals, as thou art doing now. But this is not a case for words. Black deeds, And blacker retribution faces us. Ah, God! What vast atonement can wipe out That dark stain of my mother's parting curse? You know how she did curse me, Filippo? [Shaking his head sorrowfully . In vain I've sought her at Landona, now This very day again. Naught but dark curses, Great curses on my head and on her womb That bore me. Curses for my treason, then More for my fratricide. Let death come now, I wait! Fil, Nay, but succeed yet, after all. She will remove her curse then for the crown Of victory, as many a mother's done Before. Grif. No victories can blot a curse Like this from off my brow. 'Tis registered In heaven by Azrael. His wings alone Can brush aside the stain, Fil. You are stark mad, Grif one, irresponsible, and full Of rhapsodies of dying! See, the sun THE BAGLIONI 51 Deflects not his bright rays away from us; Food nourishes: wine flows forth for our thirst; Our shadows are not bloody. Grif. Such as thou, FiHppo, see not shadows of the soul. How couldst thou? On this very spot thou first Tempted my honour. Then I scorned thee, then I threw back thy insinuating words Into th}' traitor's face. Fil. Say what you will, But did I turn Zenobia false? Who cried So loud for vengeance then? Grif. Now do I know Too late that vengeance is for God. Fil. Too late? 'Tis not too late I beg you chase away These lurid, night-born fancies, brooding thoughts Which haunt thy weary brain. Off to the plains! Feel once again thy steed rush under thee; Once more the bravi shouting close behind; The cool air of the marshes fanning thee ! Then will swift action drive aside these mists Of melancholy. Grif. (solemnly). When the stars are cold, Filippo, and when night has changed each shape Familiar so that all the world is strange — When best-known faces show through leering masks. And oft-trod stones ring foreign echoes back To one's own unacquainted steps; when blood Drips from one's very thoughts to hang a veil Of gore before the straining vision. And God's own blessed svm drifts flaming red Behind the hills. — Who then art thou to speak So light of brushing gruesome fancies by? I say if thou couldst feel the load of guilt That staggers on thy back and see thyself As real — a crime-drenched hunchback crouching there ! Fil. The man is mad. Come, Grifonetto, see, I do beseech you turn away these thoughts. 52 " THE BAGLIONI Weigh out the matter thus: on one side death, Inevitable, and what then is gained? Upon the other all that unknown chance Which makes life rich in possibilities. The chance to -win j^et in this game of war, The chance to still remorse with noble acts. To buy redemption for the past with love Of this your suffering city, and the chance To so heap up good deeds that they shall shame At last the very niched saints themselves. Throw this great opportunit}^ awaj^. Then you are lost, and after damned as well. Fly these foul fancies, live, and you have yet To cheat the Fates and save your soul. Nay, more: 'Twere flj'ing in the face of Heaven itself To thus cast off your own redemption! Grif. No. I care not to live. I would not skulk From town to town in timid banishment A cursed soul, a cuckold, murderer. Laughed at, despised, and pointed at in shame. I will not live. For there are times indeed When to breathe in the air and gaze upon The light is the most damned crime of all. Fil. Then die you must. Who is this running here? Enter Carlo in haste. Car. The watchman at the towers sees the flash Of weapons moving up the hill. They come ! Fil, Where is Jeronimo? Car. He's here. Enter Jeronimo, hastily buckling on his sword. Fil. To horse! We're just in time. Soon 'twill be dark. We're safe Jer. on with us! Fil. And this mad fool here! Car, What's that? Fil. He would atone, staj^, die, God knows what all! Jer. Then let him stay. Car. My life's not dice for fools To juggle with. THE BAGLIONI 53 Fil. Haste, Grifonetto! Car. Off! Fil. Come; steeds wait at the hill's foot. All is planned! Come! Grif. Cowards ! Traitors ! Go, save your precious skins For vultures to feed on another time. Fil. The man is raving! Car. He'd but hinder us. Grif. Go, go! My blood, not yours! It would pollute The sacrifice! Fil. Christ pity him! Jer. Away ! Fil. 0& with him, then, by force, for he is mad; I love him yet and would not leave him to die. Car. Then haste. [Carlo, Filippo, and Jeronimo attevipt to seize Grifonetto and force him away with them, hut Grifonetto casts them off after a brief struggle, then lays his hand on his sword. Grif. What, do you love me so, good cousins, That 3'ou would join me on that vinknown road Which starts here at our feet, but whose dim end No man may ever see? You would not, then? Still is the journey easy. No thought given To gold or arms, for no one need have fear Of robbers by the way. And though in truth I never yet saw one who has returned, Men say the path lies smooth, and gentlest dreams Beguile the traveller. Fil. Poor soul! Car. Off, off! While we delay to hear this madman prate The minutes rush along. Jer. We'll be too late. Fil. Farewell, Grif one ! You have chosen your part. Whether 'tis best I know not after all! [Exit Jeronimo, Carlo, and Filippo, leaving Grifonetto alone, wrapped in thought. 54 THE BAGLIONI Grif. (long pause). Gone to the night of hell which nurtured them ! [Pause. Sound of retreating hurried steps. Trum- pets in extreme distance. Grifonetto turns and stretches out his arms in supplication: Ah, my Zenobia! Was ever time Indeed when thy soft arms enfolded me? When I awaked to thy caress, when love Lit all my nights and days? Or was it then A passing fantasy, an empty wraith Of my poor doting brain? Zenobia! Is there no smile for me, thy lover here? No greetings for such care ineffable? No touch of thy dear hand, no look, no word? Zenobia! 'Tis I who call thee, I, Thy lover Grifonetto! [Trumpets sound in distance. Grifonetto lets his outstretched arms fall helplessly to his side and bows his head. — Trumpets sound again a little nearer. More trumpets, nearer. The Baglioni! Marcantonio! All! There sound the brazen throats of Death! They come! [Passing hand over his brow as if to wipe out a stain. Ah, God ! If I could tear this mother's curse Once from my brow. It presses there like iron! Then would I die as fits my chivalry. Fall fighting to the last, defying still My conquerors ! Nay, by the Mass, I'll fight [Draws sword. For fighting's sake, since all my honour's gone ! [More trumpets, much nearer. Fight for the lust of blood, fight for a sport, Fight for a moment's hfe till life is done ! [Pause. Gazes at sword hopelessly. No! 'Tis dishonoured too, even my sword. Stained with the blood of my own race, befouled With treachery! Go! No more lives shall fall; [Flings away his sword. Beneath thy strokes enough have died. Enter Marcantonio and armed Bravi. THE BAGLIONI 55 Marc, (in full armour, putting sword to Grifonetto's throat). Art thou Here, Grifonetto? Grif. I am here, Marcantonio, Come to atone at last for all thy sins And mine! Marc, (lowering his sword) . Go with God's peace; I will not slay, Nor plunge my hand in mine own blood, as thou Hast done in thine! [As jVIarcantonio turns away, Bravi surround Grifonetto and hew him down. The deed is done, however, in such a way as to conceal Grif- onetto from the audience while he is being killed. Marcantonio walks slowly to the doorstep of Duomo where he pauses and looks back as Bravi draw aside showing Grifonetto's corpse stretched in full view. Marc. " Spoil not his body. All your work is done ! " [Chant (without organ) from Duomo as Marcan- tonio enters doorway, crossing himself. CURTAIN. L.ofC. FEB & 1903 FEB 4 1903