Class PS a Book . O g s ^T] GopightN°_ COPYRIGHT deposit: DANTE A DRAMATIC POEM BY Heloise Durant Rose Member of the Dante Society Cambridgey Massachusetts MITCHELL KENNERLEY NEW YORK MCMX Copyright igio by Mitchell Kennerley CCU280584 TO HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW As smallest urchin in the village school, To say some trying task, finds he must rise, Haunted by hope of a far distant prize, Fearing to fall, and so remain the fool, Knowing how rarely he has felt the rule, How oft the Master's smile, with looks defies The pupils' taunts, and seeks his teacher's eye To gain new confidence should courage cool, So I, the least on learning's noble list In life's rough school face bravely gaze of crowds. Nor mark when carping critics rudely twist My sense to naught, but stand erect and proud, If from thine eyes and lips encouragement And smile I glean. Master ! I rest content. IN MEMORIAM When faint my soul with task yet Incomplete, Who nursed kind hope save thee, and urged to dare When I dared not? In thine now vacant chair Thou satst, mild critic, dropping counsel sweet On her who loved and listened at thy feet. To-day I tread rhyme's way alone, nor care For praise nor blame, since thou'lt no longer share With me my poem's triumph or defeat. O, let thy guidance still my safeguard prove ! As giant oak, wind-stricken to the ground. To all the thronging tuneful choir around Yields royal shelter, so of thy generous love That blossoms freshly o'er thy hallowed grave One tiny spray to nest my song I crave. CHARACTERS Dante Allighieri, the great Italian poet GuiDO Cavalcanti, the poet, a friend of Dante CoRSO DoNATi, a Florentine politician Gemma Donati, his sister (later Dante's wife) Falco Portinari, founder of first Florentine Hospital Beatrice Portinari, his daughter Beatrice Allighieri, Dante's daughter Jacopo Allighieri, Dante's Son Pietro Allighieri, Dante's Son Giotto Bondone, the painter, Dante's friend Can Grande Francesco Bella Scala, Duke of Verona (Dante's friend) GuiDO Novello di Polenta, of Ravenna GiovANNA D'Antiochia, Can Grande's wife Marco Nerli, friend of Dante GiovANNA (Primavera) — (becojnes Cavalcanti' s wife) Vincenzo Dal Colle, a Florentine politician Francesca Dal Colle, his daughter Uberto Dal Colle, his son (friend of Dante) Dino Brunini, a Florentine bon-vivant Gita, servant Beppo, servant of Dal Colle Jester Delegate, at Court of Can Grande Cardinal Priest Monks Also Pilgrims, Nobles, Travellers, Dancing Girls, Pages, Ass Driver, Boys, Peasants, etc. PROEM TO DANTE Thou mighty poet-king, with brows thrice crowned By genius, sorrow, love, who dared express Thy scathing thoughts aloud when bitterness Possessed thy soul; whom Florence once dis- owned, Denied to sing or live ; who now sits throned In every heart through Italy, no less Revered than loved ; who spied each dark recess [And uncouth horror of abyss profound I O, look not thou reprovingly on me For straining feeble wings toward eagle height, Wresting thy utterance, depicting thee iWith my poor pencil. Infants turn to light. And so my weakness seeks thy strength to touch. Dante I though frail my art, my love is much. Act I. Garden of Falco Portinari^s Villa near Florence, Act II. Falco Portinari's house in Florence. Act hi. In front of San Giovannis Church in Florence, Act IV. Scene L The Campo Santo near Florence. Scene II. Ducal Palace at Verona. Scene III. Palace of Guido No- vello di Polenta at Ravenna. DANTE ACT I Garden of Falco PortinarVs Villa near Flor- ence. There are stone benches; yew hedges cut in stif shapes; flowers in profusion — chiefly yel- low laburnum and white and purple lilacs. View of the City of Florence in the distance. It is the May Festival {Calendi Maggio). Branches of yellow cytisus laburnum are brought in by the revellers. Gemma, Francesca and Giovanna are weav- ing wreaths. Gemma sits apart from the other two, Giovanna. [Calling.'] Beatrice ! Francesca. [Calling.'] Beatrice ! Others. [Calling.] Bice ! Beatrice I Giovanna. Where lingers our fair lady? A Youth. Dreaming of prize she will bestow to-day. 12 Dante 'Act I Gemma. [Morosely.] And why so sure that she^ll bestow the prize ? Francesca. There's none so worthy to be chosen Queen. GlOVANNA. Dante! Dante I Durante Alllghleri! A Maiden. Why callest thou our poet? He's not near. GlOVANNA. I called but as one conjures spirits, who Attend the coming of an angel. Dante I3 magic word to conjure Beatrice. Francesca. Let us invoke him, then — our poet Dante. [Gemma, who is sitting on the same bench with Francesca, makes a sullen move- ment widening the space between them,] [Enter Beatrice Portinari, walking along the balustrade at back of the stage, looking out in the direction of Florence. She is followed by her page. She leans over the balustrade of the terrace.] Beatrice. Florence, the sun caresses thee as Jove Caressed fair Danae in a golden shower. ^Act I Dante 13 Thy beauty glows, till eyes grow dazed with light. Like Queen thou art, so stately in thy strength. With silver Arno for thy scepter. Guard Thy rights, O royal city ! Guard thy people ! Still keep us gay with joyous feasts of love. With dance and song, with gentle revellings, And let war's thunder roll beyond thy hills. Forgotten In the nearer notes of peace. Francesca. [Calling.] Beatrice! Bice! Others. [Calling.li Beatrice ! Beatrice. [ Turning.] Pray, spare my ears. Would I were deaf to- day! Francesca. So soon returned to earth? I saw thee caught In realm of fancy, — flown to such a height Methought one pair of lungs weak messen- gers To call thee back. [Beatrice sits on the stone bench, between Francesca and Gemma. Gemma rises spitefully.] 14 Dante 'Act I Beatrice. Thou seest rm close to earth — Ready to celebrate Calendi Magglo. Gemma. And, being thy father's daughter, courtesy Accords thee pretty favors all this day; As hostess, we must greatly honor thee. GlOVANNA. There is no must in our allegiance, Gemma, And only blind folk fail to see she's fair. Or deaf folk fail to hear how sweet her voice. Francesca- A jealous heart oft makes one deaf and blind. [Enter Marco Nerli.] Marco. I greet the graces In their native bowers. Francesca. Say seasons. Thou, Marco, be our Winter , Thou, Vanna, Spring, and Beatrice Summer; The changing Autumn I — that suits me best.* Marco. [Seating himself by Francesca.] Winter comes next to Autumn. ♦Giovanna was nicknamed Primavera (Spring). Sc« Vita Nuova, Act 1 Dante 15 Francesca. Turning e'er Her coldest side to him. GIOVANNA. [Plucking flowers, and turning to Beatrice.] ril weave a wreath to crown thee Queen of Love, Since Dante deems thee Queen of human hearts. Francesca. [Gathering flowers.^ And lion-tamer shouldst thou, too, be called, For thou hast sway o'er Dante's soul. Among the learned is he not a Hon? Beatrice. He's slave worth keeping for his faithfulness. GlOVANNA. And links by Bice forged are lightly worn. Beatrice's Page. Ah, that our Dante tarry not! I fain Would hear him sing of love and ladles fair. A Maiden. Thou art a froward page to prate of love. A Youth. And tread upon the heels of older men. Beatrice. [To the youth.] Much older. In faith — with not a hair on chin. [All laugh,] 1 6 Dante Act I Page. Dante jeers not. He ever sighs, or sings Of youthful love — and pages do have hearts. Beatrice. Nice little ones, like their young mouths, to fill With sugar toys. Our Dante sings for men And is a soldier as well as poet. Vanna. Wasting his life in shadowy dreams of bliss, Our poet's braver fighting men than women. [GiovANNA, Beatrice and Women con- verse apart.'] Francesca. He learnt this truth : Bodice and skirt with youth Are fatal foes to fortitude of men And yet to fly a woman Is disgrace. Marco. In which Fll not partake; so still sit here. Braving the smiles I dread more heartily Than others' frowns; for wicked is thy wit Piercing through closest coat of mail, like love. Francesca. O, love, love, love! How smoothly does it oil Act I Dante 17 The creaking wheels of this old lumbering world; Yet, oft like Fame, 'tis wasted on the heads It seeks to crown. A youth may burn his heart On altar raised unto some seeming goddess, Who, when well warmed, throws water on hl's flame, And lightly scatters to the restless winds The ashes of his faith; or gentle maid Despoils her soul's sweet treasury, and finds Her purity and peace stamped out beneath The Iron heel of some base libertine; And men who could have left high-honored names As heirlooms to a future race, have spent Their talents, time and strength on some wild son Who grew to flout and hate his gray-haired sire. So love may prove a dancing will-o'-the-wisp To those who seek its light in earth's vast marsh. Marco. Gladly I'll seek and track the elf, and win Fair bride thereby. 1 8 Dante Act I Francesca. Wilt have a wife? I know A maid cut just thy pattern. Marco. Aye, and a painted piece of wax — a puppet — ^ Francesca. Who talks and reasons well. Marco. What — both? From such Defend me, gentle Heaven! Wives with their tongues Are bad; but wives with brain, who chatter too — Francesca. This maid would rather read than be a gossip. Marco. Far worse. A modest wench would waste no thoughts 0*er love scenes. Francesca. Nay, more oft she'd con her missals Than Romaunt. Marco. Sure, such salntliness would swoon If I did swear. Francesca. Not so, — a maid of spirit. Act I Dante 19 Marco. A shrew, I'll warrant thee. I'll none of her. Canst tell thy fancied fair to break her heart And rave that I her life have basely wrecked. Francesca. Wrecked, Marco? Nay, thou knowest not our hearts. What if we venture all our happiness Within the frail bark Love, and storms arise. And toss the skiff on barren shore — what then? Though love be stranded, 'tis not lost. We'd glean The wreck-strewn beach, shaping a raft from out The fragments of our parted bark; anon We'd launch forth bravely on the world*s rough sea Our pilot virtues, born of stormy grief, Guiding us safely to our destined goal. A woman must be master of her love Or it will master her. But, Marco, hark! This maid will hate thee not, though like white wax Near fire, thine image melts before her pride. Marco. And was this maid drawn by thy fantasy? 20 Dante Act I Francesca. I saw her thus reflected once. Marco. Where? How? Francesca. Where — How? Indeed, In thy two eyes, my friend. [Francesca runs off,] Marco. [Starting to follow.] Cesca ! GiovANNA. [Turning to him.] Nay, stay. Til bring Francesca back. [Exit.] Marco. [To himself.] Meant Cesca then herself? And yet her words — She IS a madcap — witch as well as sybil ! Beatrice. [Hearing him.] She's loving friend, with honest, purest soul, Whose wit, though keen, scarce wounds. Her joyous heart Basking in God's clear light e'er sunshine sheds On those who lie forgotten In the shade. Marco. Thy golden nature glints In praising hers. 'Act I Dante 21 Page. There comes Dal CoUe with black-browed Corso; But, alas, no Dante. Marco, They'll watch for him, And every sprig * he gathers must be paid Anon with posies of bad politics. Beatrice. Why do our elders spoil our pleasures? Youth Calls out for joy — not business — in fair May. [She turns away toward terrace.] [Enter Youths and Maidens, with music. As the music stops, there are exclama- tions, and Dante, Guido and Fran- CESCA enter.] Hail to Dante ! Hall to his twin poet CavalcantI I Dante. Fair ladles all, I greet you thousandfold. [Crosses to Beatrice.] Madonna, let us wander in the grove * Sprig of cytisus laburnum. 22 Dante "Act I Where the fair meaning of this blessed month Sinks In the soul, that all my garnered thoughts In one melodious whole may chant thy praise, When we to-day, in friendly rivalry, Each vaunt In song our gracious lady's charms. Beatrice. To-day thou must pay homage to fair Spring. Dante. Thou art my Spring; I'll tune my lyre to thee. A smile from thee sends swift blood from my heart. To bloom as tender fancies In my brain. Thy Court of Love holds revel all the year; The chastity of Winter's silent snows, The lusty red of Autumn's russet cheek, Bare-bosomed Summer's wantonness, alike With gentle Spring's soft green, invite all men To rhyme thy worth in one eternal strain. Gemma. [Standing near.] I'd weary of these forced comparisons — As sun, moon, stars, by turn to shine— con- ceits By singer's fancy framed. "Act 7 Dante 23 Dante. Keep thy scorn, Gemma, Till age steals from thy looks a poet's theme. Beatrice. And art thou sure that all thy metaphors Do give me joy, Ser Dante? Dante. O Beatrice! Gemma. The Irate lion feels his keeper's touch On tawny mane, though light as thistledown ! Dante. A thoughtless woman's wit sees Idle mirth In sacred things, and tries its wreath of roses On sodden skulls. Beatrice. Now, out of gloomy moods We fain would laugh thee, Dante. Faith, thy brain Must feed on graveyard damps or midnight mists From salty marsh, so stern the mind that moulds Thy features to a lengthy face. Francesca. Say short; 24 Dante 'Act I 'Tis like Eve's apple— ruddy, red and round. [All laugh.] Marco. Thy apple savors more of fabled Paris Than Eden; more of discord than of knowl- edge. Beatrice. Ne'er heed these foolish jests; we honor thee As poet to the highest Court of Love, As singer In May's festival. Dante. [To Beatrice.] Madonna, Thy father lured me to this verdant shade With promise of thy presence, and I'm here In thy bright glance to bask, as snowdrops warm To life from Winter's chill in smile of Spring. Francesca. Wilt tune no lyre for other maids; I vow Guldo will strike a note for Donna Vanna; Now can I not persuade thee to laud me, To rhyme of dark as well as golden tress, And halo my plain self with poet's craft? Marco. Let prose prove honest substitute for rhyme And say thou art the fairest maid to me.. Act 1 Dante 25 Beatrice. Come, friends, let's gather golden blooms together To greet the goodly company from Florence. And will not Dante wend his steps with ours? Dante. Thy lightest wish is high command to me. Francesca. Haste, Messer Dante. Her wit's no laggard In crossing swords with thine. Beatrice. Mine now is sheathed. \She holds out her hand to Dante. He bends and kisses it, then walks by her side.] GuiDO. Smile, Beatrice, smile his frowns away, We need the songs that Dante sings when gay: For sing ho I sing hey ! 'TIs joyous May, And maidens are sighing, and lovers are cry- ing: * I love for a year as well as a day.' [Exeunt all but GEMMA.] [Enter Gemma's brother, CoRso DONATI. J 26 Dante Act I CoRso. [Seeing Gemma alone,'] Why solitary, Gemma? Have the youths Forgotten what is due to a DonatI? Gemma. Good Corso, nay; but yet DonatI may Forget what's due the youths. They weary me. Corso. What — none can suit thy fancy, sister? Speak: Hath not a poet sung thy heart away? Gemma. If so, his own is In another's keeping, And all his thoughts are centered on the stars. Corso. Visions, fair sister — visions. Youthful poets Oft dower maids with fancied charms, for dummies On which those verdant rhymesters string their verse. The star this rhymester lifts his voice unto May fall! Gemma. Not If the fates ordain she shine. Corso. Strong men o'ertop the fates with sheer per- sistence. Act I Dante 27 Gemma. Ambitious words do not beget great deeds, CORSO. Mine father them. I will not hide my mean- ing. Dante may sing of Beatrice's charms, Yet weds her not — but thee, a proud Donati I Gemma. Ah, Corso; to fulfill such prophecy — ^ CORSO. Be led by me. I know a way to tie This poet's roving fancy to a wife. He'll dance a tame-bear husband at thy hearth I Gemma. Hast thou witch-potion or a wizard's phial? Corso. Go, laugh with youths and maidens, and if pain Possess thee, mask It with a smile. Disdain To bare thy heart-aches, till the time is ripe To conquer Dante In one stirring scene; And let thy passion like a whirlwind then, Drive him into thine arms. Be patient, Gemma I \_He kisses her. She slowly follows the others and goes outS[ 28 Dante Act I [Enter Falco Portinari^ Dal Colle and follower S.I Falco. Most welcome, Corso, as our guest to-day; What trouble in the air o'erclouds thy brow ? CORSO. To-morrow's ills. The cause obsesses me. 'Tis time to rouse us. Every man we need; But arms and horses spring not from the ground, And gold can buy what wit may not com- mand: So gold we need more than the people's will. Dal Colle. My daughter's hand is sought this day by one Whose gold we can annex. Corso. Urge on the match. Time counts with us. We are beset with foes That crop up round us like rain-nourlshed weeds. Hew down a score and hundreds fill their place. Among our so-styled friends are traitors too ; Act I Dante 29 That charlatan of singers — CavalcantI, And Dante — Dal Colle. Prithee, spare our poet. CORSO. Blanchi more than Guelph is he. But wait, I have a plan to bind him to our interests. Dal Colle. We'll treat this subject further on the mor- row. Falco. Ay; for to-day we play the lavish patrons In pageant of our city's Feast of Love, And must not therefore grudge youth's jol- lities. [They talk apart on the terrace,'] [Re-enter Francesca and GlOVANNA.] GlOVANNA. I win not linger near thee now to mark The treacherous blushes telling of thy love. Francesca. Hush, hush, I have no love. GlOVANNA. No love in Cesca ! I'll wager thee a new sweet song of Dante's That thou wilt soon be Marco's bride. Take counsel 30 Dante ^Act I Of merry birds who mated months ago. List to their singing, Cesca. Hear them say: We'll have no spinster in our midst this May.' [Exit,'] Francesca. Yet * Nay ' is quickly said, and * Yea ' me- thinks More quickly still. Fond fool to fancy maids !Are won so lightly. What power hath love that I Should be so glad to yield my virgin pride Unto a stranger's keeping? Yet I'd box His saucy ears if he but whisper this. And still I love him. Come, my Marco, come I Dal Colle. [Joining Francesca.] So, wench, thou hast been dreaming of love- knots, 'And turtle doves. Francesca. I, father? Nay, my dreams, My thoughts, dwell rather on the lance than needle. Act I Dante 31 Dal Colle. Tut, girl; I know thy whims. Have not thine ears Drunk in too many passioned words of late? Francesca. Ay, when thy broth's too hot, or cake's too cold. Dal Colle. [Taking her hand.] Shut thy pert lips, thou f roward minx I Francesca. A kiss Will close them fast. Dal Colle. Thou shouldst be saving such For gracious wooer. Francesca. When he comes, I will. 'Dal Colle. He came and went. Francesca. Without a chance for me To courtesy low and say: * I thank thee, nay ? ' Dal Colle. Why nay, if he did please thee? Francesca. He would not 32' Dante Act I Dal Colle. How canst thou tell unless thou sawst the man? Francesca. rd have a nay for full a score of men; This one would be too fat, and that too lean, And this too short, and that too tall, too old. Too young, too grave, too gay. I'd pick a fault In Cupid's self. If he came wooing me. Dal Colle. So wilt thou dwell as virgin e'en to eld. And wither on a single stalk, instead Of knowing fruited boughs of matronhood. Francesca. Show me perfection, and I'll mate with It. Dal Colle. As Marco fails to pose as perfect man. When he sought thee this morn, I scorned his suit. Francesca. Marco was seeking me? Dal Colle. Vowed he would prove A son to me ; swore his undying love For thee. Francesca. And went he then without a yea ? 'Act I Dante 33 Dal Colle. Didst thou not say a nay would be thy an- swer ? Francesca. Never to him, the bravest, kindest man. His love would crown with joy a woman^s life. O, that he stood but here, I'd to him straight And throw mine arms about his neck as now I twine them round thine own, and whisper low: * Marco, I love thee; take me to thy heart! ' Dal Colle. Then try it, child; for knowing woman's mind Changes as quickly as an April day, I bade this valiant wooer turn his steps This way, and get his answer from thy lips. Francesca. The reddening West make me a fool if here He finds me. Dal Colle. Whither goest, Francesca? Francesca. To ponder o'er the fitness of this wooing. [Francesca runs off but meets Marco entering. He stops her. Dal Colle 34 Dante 'Act I watches them; then, smiling^ goes out.] Marco. Cesca, am I ne^er welcome? FrancescA. Truly not, Unless thou bringst good news. Marco.. I bring myself. FrancescA. That thou art news, I never knew before; That thou art good, I ne'er shall ascertain. Marco. But not for lack of opportunity. FrancescA. [Courtesying.] Great thanks! The chance is not much to my taste. Marco. But 'tis to mine, and for the future we May share possessions. FrancescA. But then your may, Can wait upon my shall, till both are worn To one leg betwixt them with the standing. And still my shall remains unchanged — ^your may Had better go to the wall, Ser Marco! Act I Dante 35 Marco. Thy father thinks not so. Francesca. I'm not my father, The saints be praised! Wouldst have me think his thoughts? Then must I grow his beard, thin, gray my locks, And wrinkle up my brows and harden palms, Donning a garb like thine for women's folds. Speak, Marco, would I please thee better thus? Marco. Nay, thou art best as maid, with all thy faults. Francesca. Then I have faults? And dost thou croon them o'er With ardent zeal, as crooning dame her beads? Marco. Come, Cesca; In a war of words, Fm naught; Lay thy small hand In mine, and say thou * Marco, I love thee,' and the wide, wide world hence- forth Could crumble all to dust ere I prove false. [He tries to take her hand.] 3^ Dante Act I FrancescA. Wouldst wed a puppet — ^painted piece of wax — A maiden who might talk a man to death, Or waste her time o'er love scenes, or a shrew, Or silly saint, who'd cross if thou but swore — A good-for-naught, who was to break her heart For love of thee? Marco. What means this speech? Francesca. Good sir, Thy memory's dull; these words should call to mind Fair flowers, bright eyes, stone bench, and Beatrice When offering thee a wife. Marco. Ah, pretty witch, I see thy wicked meaning, and for this crime Shall claim sweet recompense — a kiss, my Cesca. [Takes her hand.] Francesca. Nay, tarry yet. Women are vanes, men say; Act I Dante 37 What wind will blow me round to face thy love? Marco. My heart, sweet maid. Francesca. But It may prove false prophet. Marco. And wherefore hath thy father tricked me here? To jest at honest love? No answer? {Going.1 Francesca. Stay I My father likes thy suit — speaks well of thee — ' But I- Marco. Would fain be rid of it. Nay, Cesca, I'd force no maid to wed against her will. Francesca. Nay, nay; not quite against my will — • Marco. But not With all thy maiden heart. I know thee true And would not gain thy hand without thy love. Farewell I 38i Dante Act I Francesca. But stay! A little love — > Marco. A little! Nay — all thou hast to give, or none! Out with It! Speak thou yea or nay. Francesca. A dwarf — a pigmy *yea.* Marco. A stout, strong ' yea ' — A Hercules ! And say thou lovest me — or scorn thy * yea.' Francesca. Ah, Marco — fie — ^t\ Wouldst force me say it? Marco. Alas ! Then we must part — Farewell ! Francesca. But wait! Give me the time to say these fateful words That bind me thine. Marco — yea — I love thee! [They embrace, and go out.] \_JVith sounds of merriment, enter Gemma, Vanna, Guido^ a pa^ge, youths and maidens.'] Act I Dante 39 GlOVANNA. [Pointing to Francesca, who is leaving with Marco.] Hey, for the joys of May; there's a sweet pair Cooing and billing like two turtle doves. Guido can make a little song for them. GuiDO. Dante might make another. He lingers With Beatrice in the grove. Page. [Watching from the terrace,} Now Dal Colle And Corso swoop on him. He will be caught In swirling politics. Strike out, good swim- mer, Clear eddies and then land thyself with us. [Re-enter Dante. He is immediately sur- rounded by youths and maidens.'] Dante. [Gazing at the group.] On life's gnarled tree, O Youth, thou art the blossom, With all the pretty secrets of the Spring; Rose petals tint thy cheeks; the scent of May Perfumes thy breath; the cadences of birds 40 Dante 'Act I Re-echo in thy voice. Thy being diffuses A fragrant freshness. Go and blend thy sweets With other dainty buds and blooms around: Anon I'll rhyme my homage to my lady. [Amid the protests of the maidens and swains Dante turns to Dal Colle, CoRso and Portinari. Guido joins Dante as the youths and maidens zvith- draw,] Dal Colle. These pleasant pastimes are an interlude To civic duties for our city's good. We Guelphs need watch and ward our party's strength, Lest Ghlbellines intrude upon our rights. [Dante is impatient.] CoRSO. [In an unpleasant mood.] Lest Bianchi undermine our strength ; Vieri Dei Cerchi is the man we most should dread. Dante. Here prejudice, not reason, speaks, Donati. As seething river, turbulent with flood, O'erflowing banks and ruining greening crops. Arose from tiny rill in some far cranny Of lonely hillside — so this bitter feud Act I Dante 41 Spread out In warring factions, did arise From trivial source. Two women's angry looks First lit this coal of enmity betwixt * Ye twain. When VIerl at the feast, In jest, Begged that some friendly soul should sit be- tween Thy lady and her neighbor at the board — CORSO. [Interrupting.'] He planned an Insult, seizing her arm. Dante. Nay, 'Twas kindly meant, but when thy lady rained Hot words on him, his fiery temper blazed; Out leaped thy sword to answer his rash speech, And In that clash of steel this feud was born. Instead of Guelphs uniting 'gainst their foes. We stand divided In our aim, alas! As Nerl and Blanchil CORSO. Ay, and will While merchants still uphold such men as VIerl ; ♦See Appendix. 42 Dante Act I Self-satisfied, patting their well-filled pouches, To lord It o'er the ragged populace, While soldiers' arms and valor go for naught. Dante. Our merchants fill as honorable place As soldiers. Our guilds give much to enrich Our lives. Through them the Florentines join hands With many lands, e'en to the Orient. CORSO. Are we the better for gay bales of silk. Attar of roses and gem-crested cups? Dal Colle. [To Cavalcanti.] What says our poet philosopher to this? GuiDO. My voice need not be heard when Dante's here, Far less when speaks the Baron — Flower of Chivalry I The new St. Chrysostom, Second St George I CORSO. [Savagely.'] My chivalry at least absolves me, Ser, From posing as a poet, rhyming florins Out of the people's pockets. GuiDO. [Drawing sword.'] Messer Corsol Act I Dante 43 Dante. [Holding Guido.] O, Peace I How quarrel on a day like this ! The very skies In their unbroken blue Rebuke thy anger. 'TIs sin to trespass On holidays with witless feuds, my Guido ; These golden hours call for gentleness. Come, let us join Madonna Beatrice. [With Dante's hand on Cavalcanti's shoulder, the two poets walk into the garden and exeunt.'] CoRSO. [To Dal Colle, looking in the di- rection Dante took.] 'TIs Guido's piping charms the Alllghieri To consort with that Cerchi tribe. Once Guido Is driven from the field, Dante is ours. Dal Colle. Corso, do nothing rash to-day. The people Are in jovial mood. CoRSO. A quarrel might be picked Perchance next month at San Giovanni's feast. With streets packed full of lusty fellows, we Shall find our purpose ripe. Dal Colle- Ay, bustling crowds Have their advantages for spitting men, '44 Dante 'Act I But here 'tis vain, for Dante favors Guldo, And Beatrice favors Dante. Corso, We cannot lure this falcon from his mate. Corso. A shadowy maiden is not mate for Dante! Dante, as well as Florence, must be ours, 'Tis well to bind him subtly to our cause By ties of blood. Gemma is fair. Dal Colle, Kind Fate must match this pair to suit our ends. Dal Colle. Hush — here Dante nears with Beatrice. [Re-enter Dante and Beatrice. Bea- trice has a branch of cytisiis laburnum.'] [Enter with music, revellers garbed in white and yellow. They also carry branches of laburnum.] [Enter GuiDo Cavalcanti, Gemma Don- ATI, GlOVANNA, DiNO BrUNINI, FaLCO PoRTiNARi, Marco Nerli and Fran- CESCA.] All. Honor to our host and hail to Dante ! Falco. Kind thanks, fair dames and maidens, gentle youths ; 'Act I Dante 45 And reverend signers, as my honored guests, I bid ye all glad welcome to the feast. Marco. Hail to the poets! All. Hall to our Dante I Hall to Don Falco! [Dante and Falco bow acknowledg- ment. The Votaries dance and pipe and form a circle^ Beatrice, Gemma, Gio- VANNA and Francesca in the center.'] Revellers Chant. See fairest maids in Florence; one must wear The crown of beauty on her silken hair; All four our true allegiance share. Now name the Queen who dare ! Several. Beatrice ! Gemma I Vanna ! All. Beatrice I Francesca ! Beatrice I Beatrice! Beatrice I Glovanna ! Beatrice ! 46 Dante Jet I A Youth. The crown Is won by Donna Beatrice. [All cheer. A wreath is placed on Bea- trice's heady and she is escorted to a throne, Francesca and GiovANNA on one side, Beatrice's page and Gemma on the other.'] Falco. Now let the Cavalllera add renown To this day's sports. Let each recount his deeds Of valor done for his fair lady's sake. [Dante steps forward.] Dante. Three moons agone, the Donna Bice, in sport Flung down her glove, and bade me bring it back Filled with the pearls the robber Ugo stole. Here, for my lady, are both glove and pearls, Redeemed from robbers' roost, where dead he lies. [Dante drops the glove and pearls in Beatrice's lap. She kisses them with delight. All cheer.] CORSO. And I, at gentle Vanna's light behest, Act I Dante 47 Stole through our foeman's camp, risking my life In her sweet service. And hence I claim re- ward. Give me thy colors as thy loyal knight. [Kneels to GlovANNA.] GlOVANNA. 'Twas but a jest. I need thy service not. CORSO. [Rising furiously.] Dost mock me, jade? GuiDO. [Drazving his sword.] At men, Ser Corso, aim thy insolence, So that they properly may answer it. CORSO. [Draws his sword and lunges at GuiDO.] AJh, blows the wind, Ser Poet, in that quarter? [Falco rises and intervenes.] Dante. Nay, nay! Defer your petty feuds. To-day We worship peace. Our valiant soldiers need Their swords for foes. And If they must be drawn On this fair day, their use is gentleness. Cut off gay branches to adorn your homes With the sweet semblance of a golden rain; And let the fire in your swords flare out 48' Dante 'Jet I In passioned words of love to celebrate, As honest Florentines, Calendi Maggio. Falco. Come, let us have our poets sing their lays. Dal Colle. Methinks their trade of tinkering idle rhyme Begotten of spring fancies, fits not men We need for civic duties of the hour. Dante. [Springing up.] The fancies born of spring breed noblest deeds, No power so strong to mould men's wills as love. The people need the lesson of the spring. God's glance may glint In burnished helm and shield. But in God's mother's month His smile lies hid In each enfolded flower and budding bough. His voice is heard in each vibrating note Of birds a-qulver with May's melody; And every hour's duty should be love — Love of fair women, love of home and God. [Cries of 'Dante is right! Hail to our poet, Dante.'] ^Act I Dante 49 CORSO. Still I approve Dal Colle's words. This tinkering Of rhymes — GuiDO. [Interrupting.'] Now out upon thee for a fool. Here Is my sword defending Poesle — Dante. [Restraining him.] She needs no champion, Guldo, for the world Needs her to champion It. She sings to men In joy and sorrow, teaching how to woo And how to voice the bravest battle hymn. Her lightest whisper's heard In hell and heaven. Falco. Then let us hear her gracious voice to-day. The sun declines^ — the contest must begin. [The pipers pipe a strain. Order is re^ stored and a young poet rises,] Poet. Here at her feet I sigh, Here would I gladly He To dream of her and die. Her beauty Is divine; An angel In a shrine. Too lovely to be mine. [They applaud him.] 50 Dante Act I DiNO Brunini. I crave your gracious patience for a song. A Maiden. Is't a crow's song? Another Maiden. Will the porpoise dance, too? [All laugh.'] DiNO. [In a squeaky voice. '\ The lily white, the lily white, Is every maiden's fair delight; But when roast pigeons greet the sight, Fd rather have the wine that's white. Chorus. He'd rather have the wine that's white. DiNO. The roses red, the roses red, Bloom for the living from the dead; But when the table's richly spread, I'd rather have the wine that's red. Chorus. {Laughing.] He'd rather have the wine that's red. GuiDO. Shame, man, to sing of food and wine, when Beauty Sits here and smiles before thy dullard gaze. Several. Sing! Guido, sing! 'Act I Dante 51 GuiDO. [Approaching Giovanna.] Spring comes ! Beneath her white feet rise The flowers debonair. Her sweet breath scents the air. Within her eyes no guile Is hid. Upon the breeze Her long hair floats. Her smile Invokes the birds, till these Fill all the wood with song. Her voice sets hearts afire, For Spring Is herald to sweet Love's desire. My lady comes! Her lightest step awakes An echo in my breast, Arousing deep unrest, Until I touch her hand, Until her lips greet mine. Her servant to command, Here at her feet, divine, I kneel and bow. Her spring Blooms tho' the leaves are sere. Her radiancy illumines all the year. [There are cries of ^ Hail! Gtiidof Hail to Cavalcantil^l Falco. Bravely has Guido rhymed his lady's charms ; The fair Giovanna — Primavera ! Now, Dante Alllghleri, strike thy lyre! 52 Dante Act I CoRSO. [Aside to Dal Colle.] Hearst that, Dal Colle, how they laud him? Dal Colle. Walt, Corso, wait till San Giovanni's Day. [The sun is setting behind the trees, Dante rises and approaches Beatrice.] Dante. When suddenly, amid the thoughtless crowd. There falls a hush upon the place, And glory shines on every face. Reflected as from Angels' wings Passing the earth at birth or death; Or, from the censers, as they swing. Full of rich incense, and men's breath Comes faster, as they look and kneel — 'Tis when a miracle they spy. And my most beauteous lady passes by. It were as if a fragrant rose from Heaven Had fallen to earth. Her glorious mien Astounds all men; her gaze serene Abashes sin. Sheen of the sea Is in her eyes; the sun's red gold Glints in her hair; and purity Like shining robe doth her enfold. Ah, sensuous beauty may delight. But Beatrice's blest In God's own sight! Act I Dante 53 All. To Dante the prize! Allighieri wins! Hail, Dante! Hall, Durante Allighieri! \^The sun has set and the afterglow illu- mines the scene."] [Beatrice takes of her wreath and places it on Dante's head.] Falco. And now, good friends, we'll haste unto the feast. I bid ye all thrice welcome as my guests. Each drink and dance beneath night's silver lamps And let each lover toast his lady first. [Music. All depart except Beatrice and Dante. Gemma lingers^ dropping her scarf; then also leaves, BEATRICE rises and starts to go.] Dante. [Turning to Beatrice.] lady, stay, And blend thy beauty with the flowers' breath. Beatrice. 1 dare not tarry now. Dante. May's song and perfume, 54 Dante 'Act I Its leaf and bloom, with new life tremulous, All breathe a blended note of tender love, Inviting confidence. I pray thee, wait To hear the message my soul hath for thine. [She sits again slowly near Dante. Pause. '\ Beatrice. I listen, but our poet's tones are mute. Dante. *When in thy presence, honored one, I stand, * My spirits faint till naught but sight Is left, ^* While e'en my daring orbs grow dazed and dim * Beneath thy beauty. Speech deserteth me ; * My troubled heart, wild beating, stifles breath. My mind, too moved to think, for tyrant love. Whose liegeman true am I, claims every sense. O, thou who art my sight, and pulse and thought. Be courteous with thy power, most gentle Bice, And sport not with the sorrows of my soul. Unless it pleases thee to see me wan With wretchedness. "^Vita Nuova. Act I Dante sS Beatrice. Not so; with joyousness I would thy life were filled. Dante. Each day men ask * For whom hath love so wasted thee, O Dante?' And I could say * For one who mockingly Commands me to be gay, while her cold heart Slays me outright with her own loveliness.* Beatrice. Forgive youth's wantonness. Dante. Forgive me. Sweet, That to such soul as thine I could impute A fault; no flaw could keenest eye spy out In thy pure heart; when women see thee pass * They cry, * What miracle on earth is here? ' *And men find evil thoughts killed by thy gaze. Beatrice. If I believed thy words, to purge my pride ' Twould Paternosters and more Aves need Than one poor tongue could tell throughout the year. *V%ta Nuova, s6 Dante Act I Dante. To know one's worth can scarce be counted crime. Beatrice. Yet to delight in self, Is deadliest sin, And pride thus fostered, proves Inimical To true Philanthropy; O, shun it, Dante I Dante. As trusting babe clings close to mother's breast, With Instinct truly seeking safest haven, So turns my heart to thy rare Influence, Knowing thy virtue guards mine own. So speak, Most gentle lady. Would that I might listen To such sweet harmony till deafening death Dulls ears of clay — then find In Paradise Angels still syllabling thy tender tones. Beatrice. Trust not to human sympathy for strength To fight 'gainst sin. Trust only aid divine; Nor lean on some poor mortal prop like me. Who from thy sight may any day be taken. Dante. Madonna, If thou fail me — life Is death. Should I be lingering, hearing one say ' come ' — Act I Dante 57 Hug mouldy garb of earth 'stead donning robe Bright with celestial woven tints? Dante. If He Who lent such graclousness to us were pleased To call thee to Himself again, dare we Still stay thy steps, tho' In the jealous grave Slept all our joys with thy fair mortal frame? But should thy presence fall me while in life Thou dost yet bless all human hearts and eyes, Then farewell, peace ! Unrest lords o'er my soul! Beatrice. Withhold thy passionate love from me, and seek To house It In a heart that turns to thee. Dante. Where could I nest my love, since in thy breast It shelter sought years past? Could aught dislodge Such holy guest from such a holy rest? Nay, give thy heart's sweet dower to whom thou wilt; So thou art joyous, need I weep my loss? 58 Dante Act I But let me keep my loyal love still pure And live but in the pleasure of that love. Beatrice. Alas, poor Dante I Dante. Rich, Indeed, In love, Though beggared in all else. Let no salt drops Deface thy roses. See, no more I sigh, But smile, for in my soul thou still art mine, And wilt be so for aye and aye and aye. Beatrice. Dante! By all thy poet's fire, I plead For thine own sake, to rouse thee from this dream. Dante. Yea, dream, if life be sleep; but thro' closed lids Love speeds at will. Turn not those emerald eyes So sadly from me ; I am merry. Bice. Beatrice. Dante ! Such strange joy springs from sad heart. 1 cannot leave thee sad. Thou art a part Of all that's beautiful in life to me. On every lip I hear thy praises sung; Act I Dante 59 Since child I ever honored thee as one Whose forehead touched the stars, while at thy feet We sat and listened to the songs thou stol'st From stranger spheres. But when thou speak'st of love Thy passion flames — a great consuming, fire, Too splendid for a glow-worm such as I. Dante. O, let thy tender heart still plead for me. Beatrice. What wilt thou that I say? Dante. One word of hope, And love, to star the night of my despair. Beatrice. I falter on the threshold of my speech; But couldst thou wait — Dante. Till when, my Beatrice? Beatrice. Give me a month or more, in which I'll strive To reach the pedestal whereon thy love With poet's fancy raises me. Dante. A month So Dante 'Act I Or more! And must I wait five endless weeks! [Pause. 1 Parting and silence may be deemed best, But vain behest, Madonna Beatrice, Though dumb my tongue, with worlds divid- ing us, All varied space that might between us lie. Brings thee the nearer me — my soul to thee; Thy voice Is In the breeze, thine Image haunts The green of forest nooks, rose-tinted sky, Peaks purple, sapphire levels of sunlit sea, In dewy freshness of dawn's radiancy, In sunset's flaming pennant, flung across The west with twilight's rare necromancy, For thou art all In earth and heaven to me. [He kneels,'] Beatrice. An Empress 'neath her purple would feel proud To hear thy words. At San Giovanni's feast, I'll pray the gracious saint to bless our love. Then, after mass that day, come to our house. So we can crave my noble father's blessing. [Beatrice holds out both hands to Dante, who still kneeling, takes them reverently in his own.] Act I Dante 6i [Enter in background, Gemma and CoRso. She picks lip her scarf. Then, in dumb show, points toward Dante and BEA- TRICE. CoRSO, also in dumb show, paci- fies her and tells her to wait.] Dante. [To Beatrice.] O blessed San Giovanni's Day! thrice blessed! O love, my love! My blessed Beatrice! Thou art my prize on San Giovanni's Day! [Dante kneels to Beatrice.] Curtain ACT II A room in Falco Portlnari^s house in Flov' ence. Enter from street: Vincenzo Dal Colle, Dino Brunini, Gemma Donati and Attendant. Dal Colle. San Giovanni's 'day! Now may its purposes Work for our ends, with Corso*s brains as guide. Dino. And Dino's legs, and eyes and tongue, to serve Those brains. Yea, yea, 'tis San Giovanni^s Day, ^ And may it bring good luck and gold to me For trotting off my flesh to find when Dante Or Guido shift their steps — Dal Colle. All for the cause. Dino. The cause! The cause is dear to me as Greek. Thou art my cause while loose thy purse strings dangle With promise of an adequate reward. 63 Act II Dante 63 Dal Colle. Have patience, for thou knowest my word Is good. Falco has sent his household to the mass; A dull hind guards the door, and of the wenches, GIta alone Is left. DiNO. Pretty Gital Thy name suggests a pleasing picture. Smooth Thy kerchief; shake thy ebon locks; flash eyes, For DIno's here to shower smiles upon thee ! [Dal Colle and Gemma come forward ^ leaving Attendant in the background^] Dal Colle. Art sure thou knowest well what part to play? Gemma. My brother has Instructed me. 'TIs hard That maid should need to scheme for love's reward. Dal Colle. Thy task Is easy, and the goal Is great; Thou'lt gain a husband, we a strong ally. First plead fatigue and linger here, awaiting 64 Dante Act II Beatrice. We know that Dante comes To visit here at noon. Tell him thy tale, As if impelled by his love poesy To speak of love. But veil the object of Thy fond desire. Thy brother's men will stir A broil to hinder Bice coming home. Dante, impatient, will hie him to the church. Thou'lt follow him and show to all the crowd Thy fond solicitude. DiNO. Gemma, beware Of blows not meant for thee, but ill directed. Gemma. Fear flies before such ardent love as mine. I threw aside my maidenly reserve When Corso bade me act to aid the cause. Dal Colle. Then loudly feign a wild, tempestuous grief When Corso plays his part as outraged brother, And, cursing, drives thee from his shelt'ring roof. Then Dante's chivalry must ope his door To rescue thy fair name, imperilled for him. Gemma. Hush, methinks I hear our host approaching. ^Act II Dante 6^ DiNO. A swish of skirts proclaims 'tis pretty Gita. [Enter old Gita.] Dal Colle. Here is a beauty to thy liking, DIno I DiNO. [Annoyed, to GiTA.] Where's thy master, witch? Speak, lazy- bones I Gita. How should I know? I have my work to do. To spin the flax and chide the kitchen wenches When they in gossip fall to turn the spit. DiNO. Old Knownaught, stir thy stumps. Gita. [Audibly to herself.'] Witch, Lazybones, Knownaught. He's mad and fool. DiNO. Thou dried-up mummy of thy youthful self, Tell Falco I am here. Haste, scourpot, haste ! Gita. Tell him? Not I, fast flinger of foul filth I May all the Ills of life befall thee straight! May murrain prey upon thy flocks and herds ; Crops fall, temptations of Saint Antony Assail thy soul, and thou succumb to each ! May death — 66 Dante 'Act II [Enter Falco.] Falco. Cease bawling, GIta; get thee hence. [Exit GiTA.] Falco. Welcome, good friends, on San Giovanni's Day. DiNO. Good morrow, neighbor. iWe come to find thee Guarded like Hell, with worse than Cerberus; A surly soul, thy Gita. Falco. But honest, Dino ; And sourest temper often makes sweet cooks, .Who bake meats well, and wrinkled hands can spice And roll smooth paste. DiNO. All indigestion's ills Would wait upon my meals such hags did serve. Falco. Tarry till noon, Ser Dino. Then thou'lt have My daughter's pretty maids to wait on thee. Act II Dante 67 Dal Colle. 'Tis rumored through the town she weds di Bardi. Falco. Simon dl BardI Is my choice for her, A worthy mate for daughter of our house. Dal Colle. And is fair Beatrice strong again? Falco. The leech restored her from the fever's grasp, But she is weak. What news hast thou, Dal Colle? Dal Colle. I came for some, Ser Falco. A certain Beppo, An unhung rascal, who hath called himself My servant erst, is missing since a brawl Two other knaves out of my service knocked. I'm told he's hurt and cared for in thy house. Falco. True, true. He is a lusty fellow. Soon I'll send him back to thee. Dal Colle. My thanks are thine. How many more poor knaves hast thou be- friended? Falco. I keep not count of guests God sends to me. 68 Dante Act II DiNO. But of the lame and halt there'll be no limit. Falco. 'Tis true. My house is taxed to shelter all The luckless wights misfortune overtakes. One lodges in the cellar, one in garret, And one on bed of straw in kitchen lies. Dal Colle. This open-handed largess leads thee far. Falco, Beyond these walls I'll build a house For homeless sick, where all can go, And service claim of leech and pothecary. DiNO. On such a folly wouldst be wasting gold? Falco. Not wasting, Dino; all we spend on others Is stored in Heaven for us with ten-fold in- terest. And Dante will be aiding me in this. [Enter Marco and Fbancesca.] Marco. Greetings, good Portinaril Francesca. May blessings Of San Giovanni's feast day rest on thee. 'Act II Dante 69 Falco. A welcome ever waits ye here, my friends. A special welcome for the bride and groom. [Gemma greets Francesca.] DiNO. [Addressing his niece Francesca and her Husband.] Good morrow, Cesca Eve and Marco Adam. Still vaunting of your new-found Paradise? Let ye once taste of the forbidden fruit Satiety, and each will quick spy out The other's nakedness of soul. Sew leaves Of manners and of forms to hide Love's bar- renness, 'Twill still peep out through most elaborate stitching. As yet the lover lingers in the looks Of new-made husband, and the honeymoon Clings to thy steps. Francesca. More pity if it's reached His heels already. On his lips this morn Methought that I could taste it still a scrap. Marco. In our hearts, wife, when waneth one fair moon. Shall rise another sweeter than the first, Providing honey lavishly to feed 70 Dante Act II Throughout our years of eld that wild bee, Love. DiNO. String out your comfits on a silver thread. Sugar and moonshine! Food for fool or fay. But wait tin rage domestic storms, and where Are sweets and beams? Melted, dispersed and gone ! Love Is at best but restless, flitting guest; Clip close his wings to hold him all thine own. Love's no more love from god to changeling turned ; But let him near thee poised on outstretched wing And wildly beats thy heart to win him thine. Let humdrum souls prate on in drowsy tones Of joys of household loves; to me the kiss Stolen at midnight from reluctant lips Of some coy maid Is worth full thousand fold The known embraces of a wedded wife. Francesca. Thou raven-uncle I Auguries Ill-omed Fall faint on ears stopped with love's sweetest song. But let me turn Cassandra and foretell Thy nearing punishment for flouting love; Act II Dante 71 Before thy time thou shalt grow old. Sharp words Bring wrinkles; crooked thoughts work crooked lines On smoothest skin, and pinched soul makes pinched face. See, uncle, youth slips by thee unawares; Sure as I live, there are three hairs turned gray. DiNO. Galllmatia! Niece, thy wits wool-gathering See all things white. Call Dante here, and tell him He*s lily- fair; 'twill suit his jocund mood. Francesca. O, uncle ! thou art not a man but mass Of vanity and selfishness, skinned o'er With maxims for preserving beauty's tints". [She turns to talk with Falco.] DiNO. [J side.] To heed an angry woman's words is like Stopping to count the stinging grains of dust The east wind bears. Crowfeet! said she; gray hairs? The wench is mad I. They're ten years off at least! The devil's in the witch to drawl of age. 72' Dante Act II [Enter Giovanna and Ladies.] Several. Greetings, dear Ser Falco! Where is Bice? Falco. She wended way to mass before the fete. Giovanna. She must not linger in the crowded church. We'll bring her back to celebrate the day At home. Good San Giovanni will forgive That we burn fewer tapers In his honor, While we can deck his Image here with blos- soms. DiNO. O, would fair maids, this were my saint's day, too, So dainty hands could crown my head with roses. Francesca. A devIFs day would suit thee better, uncle. Dal Colle. Hast heard what this gray-bearded spend- thrift plans? A house for homeless sick and wounded churls? 'Twin surely foster brawls to hear of it. Giovanna. O, may I send my churlish kitten there? Act II Dante 73 She's lost a whisker In a fight and limps, With one sore paw held piteously aloft. Francesca. And our house-dog, a veteran in frays, Needs two new ears, and half a foot of tail I Gemma. And my poor moulting thrush is needing feathers. [The ladies laugh."] Marco. [Turning to Francesca.] Ne'er jest at noble impulses. Madonna. Francesca. We stand rebuked, and kneel for pardon. Falco. Rise, Fair sinner. Thy sweet penance overleaps Thy fault. Marco. 'TIs bravely planned to heal the sick. Within the walls by generous Falco built Ills blessings turn, and duties glide to acts Of joy, while faith can whisper of bright shore Beyond the bitter water of death's tide. A house of shelter for the stricken poor And house of healing where the weary rest 74 Dante Act II Is God's own inn for God's own chosen guests. DiNO, And as Dante sings * let each trivial act Be our wax candle.* Marco. Nay, that's wrong; 'tis thus: * O, let each trivial act shine on each life Aglow with good — an altar light for soul.' If thou twist Dante's words, thou'lt feel his hand ; * Passing a smithy but a se'nnight since, Dante heard amid the roar and blowing Some snatches of his songs sung^ quite amiss, And straight in street he flung the smithy's tools ; So did he beat a dullard driving asses, Who chanted idle rhymes, and dubbed them his. * Wouldst bastard thy vile thoughts by father- ing them On me? ' cried Dante, seizing swift the stock The varlet held, and laid the blows on him. Falco. Ay, Dante preaches tortures should be tried * Sachetti. Act II Dante 75 On those whose lawless touch, soils poesy's robe. Ape's hairy paw can with rude grasp deface A Giotto's masterpiece; an idiot can With sinewy strength swing high in crazy mirth A ponderous hammer round a Psyche's head, And shatter with one blow a faultless gem Of Grecian sculptured art, and cry: *HaI Ha! These things are only made. I can unmake ! ' A cur can snap in twain a lute's sweet strings And mute forever make its dulcet tones. Ape, idiot, cur unite in men, says Dante, Who with coarse hands spoil pictured images Of poet's mind, break up his moulded thought. Or change to discord music of his brain, And, smiling, mar that which they could not make. Dal Colle. Trust not the poets, who, surpassing sophists In sophistry, are full of reasons as The scented honeycomb with cells ; with smile Sweet as the prisoned liquid, gold within Yet from the wood elves' nectar differing wide, 76 Dante Act II For he who'd rashly sip these traitors' sweets, Finds subtle poison creeping through his veins, His manhood shrivelling up beneath the touch Of feigning friendship's cloak — like Hercules, Fire-wrapped In white robe stained with Nes- sus' blood. Marco. We need trust friends, though some are proven safe To trust with plans as cat with cream; yet men Will venture hands in hornet's nests till stung. But Corso's none. He proves his enmity E'en when he smiles. He hath more strings to bow Than there are tendrils on a sturdy vine. He watches Guido, like snake beneath the grass May wait to strike, though still unfelt his sting. Dal Colle. Thou'lt feel it yet. He knows thou'rt not his friend. Francesca. O, leave the eternal fret of politics. [Holding up book to Dal Colle.] Act II Dante 77 See this fair gift — a new illumined missal Fra Benedetto wrought for me. Each page Is rich In gold and crimson, and pale blue, With scrolls and flowers full of heads of saints. I fear my thoughts will wander from the mass, When feasting eyes on it in church. Even The cover's decked with lilies of our town. Marco. Alas, our Guelphic lily's red with blood — 111 omen for the Florentines to-day. DiNO. [At window looking into the street.] Here is a fellow making mouths at me. [From the street outside a clownish fellow has approached, and endeavors to ex- press himself in pantomime,^ Francesca. Ho! ho! There's nothing strange In that, good uncle I DiNO. [Watching through the window.] He waves his hand, and motions toward the door. Giovanna. [Approaching the window, look- ing out and laughing.] And lovingly he strokes the bars. In faith He must be Gita's lover. 78 Dante Act II Francesca. Glad GIta ! [They laugh.'] Gemma. What a scare-crow. He sniffs food in th'air. For now he peers into the kitchen window. Francesca. Hush! Let^s watch. He's moving nearer. Come, Vanna. [They all run of to street through rear.] DiNO. [Turning, and finding them gone.] Vanished! Upon my soul, 'tis witchcraft. The room was full of petticoats — and now Not a shred of one remains. Falco. [Who has been talking with Dal Colle and Marco.] Good DIno, Is some stranger needing help? DiNO. Methlnks 'Tis but a witless fool seeking some dinner. [Re-enter ladies, with laughter, pushing in a clown.] Francesca. Good host, solve us this riddle, If thou canst. Falco. Speak, fellow, what brings thee here? Act II Dante 79 Clown. A lady. DiNO. No lady would own thy legs, and 'twas they That brought thee hither. Marco. Speak him fair. Good fellow, What lady? Clown. [Scratching his head,] I know not. Gemma. Was she fair, or Was she dark? Giovanna. Tall or short? Canst not describe her? [Clown shakes his head.] Francesca. Were her words lagging, or did she speak with wit? Clown. She'd wit. She sent me here. [Laughter,] Falco. Upon what errand? Clown. 'Twas thee she wanted. 8o Dante Act II Falco. Yet canst not tell how she was featured? Clown. She had a nose. Francesca. By San Giovanni, thou hast much observed. Clown. She said to me, * Now haste thee, lad, to Falco,' [All listen.] Clown. And told me where the house stood, and — Fm here. Falco. What wanted she with me? Clown. [Slowly,] She said 'Make haste.* Gemma. Some dame hath lost her heart to thee, Ser Falco. Clown. The lady said he must return with me. Francesca. Grey beards find favor in fair lady's eyes. Haste, young Falco, 0, haste to keep this tryst! Act II Dante 8 1 Marco. A madcap's prank, perchance. Falco. Or purblind beldame Craving help. Clown. Ay, help's the word. Marco. Come, speak out ! Tell all thou knowest, poor fool. [Clown stares stupidly.] Falco. Was't to help Someone that's ill? CtOWN. [Brightening.'] Ay, 'tis that — to help her. Francesca. Who? Clown. The other lady. GlOVANNA. Which other lady? Clown. She said * haste.' Marco. [Gently.] Now, which said 'haste'? 82 Dante "^Act II CloWn. The well one, Falco. Some ailing soul hath sent the lad for me. [Calling.] GIta ! My staff ! And give this fellow food. I must fare forth with him to find his sender. Francesca. And in thy train we'll follow to pry out What lady needs thy help. GlOVANNA. And then meet Bice The fairest bride In Florence; di Bardi Must treasure her. Francesca. He doth; he worships her. Alas I poor Dante — he fares ill these days. GlOVANNA. [To Falco.] A son-in-law of whom thou mayst be proud. Falco. Thanks, Vanna ; I know di Bardi's value. Francesca. A greater son-in-law thou couldst have had. Falco. This one suffices. [GiTA brings Falco's cloak, etc] But come, we'll now away. Act II Dante 83 Francesca. Ay; we'll all go with thee. DiNO. And who with me? Francesca. Thou dost not merit goodly company, Scoffing at love, and laughing saints to scorn ; So, while we flock to church, go get a witch, And with her ride a broomstick to the moon ! Gemma. The sun, alack, shone hotly as we came; I fear to venture out at noon, Ser Falco. I'd rather tarry here for Beatrice. Falco. Ay, Gemma, rest; my maids will wait on thee. Dal Colle. [Aside to Gemma.] Be cautious, Gemma. Use each golden mo- ment When thou hast Allighieri here alone. [Enter Pages and Gita, bringing staff and cloak and food for Clown.] Falco. The soldiers throng the streets, and crowds are stirring; Let Lapo bolt and guard the door, admitting None but our trusted friends till I return. 84 Dante Act II [Many soldiers are seen among the throng outside,'] [Exit GiTA.] [Francesca locks arms with Marco and they start to go into the street. 1 Francesca. Hall to the merry mummers, piping poets, And all the gay garbed Florentines to-day I GlOVANNA. And hall to Falco's dame of mystery ! [They step out into the street,] [GiTA crosses to the window, opens the casement and looks out.] GiTA. There*s Dino throwing kisses at a maid. Ay, wine and wenches are the only Aves And Paternosters in his devil's creed! [DiNO walks of,] [GiTA closes the window; takes up a dis- taff, and begins to spin, sitting back in the hall talking to Gemma. The holi- day crowd passes the entrance in the street, Dal Colle returns looking about till CORSO appears. He taps him on the shoulder and they step aside near the doorway of Falco's house.] Act II Dante 85 Dal Colle. Here 'mid the throng of idle pleasure-seekers, Unwatched we'll coin our speeches undis- turbed, Weighing our words, so if there be false weight Among them, we can sift it out till naught But metal unalloyed is left to cast Into our general treasury of thought. Vieri, as thou truly saidst, wins way Through ducats his commercial skill hath gained. CORSO. And, as a flagon of poor flavored wine Is highly named its tastelessness to hide, So Cerchi's poverty of head and heart He seeks to cover with fine soldier names ; But still the mud he's born in sticks to him. And let him call It battle-stain — ^what then? We all know mud from blood unless we squint With both our eyes, because one varlet cries : ' This through thy scornful heart shouldst thou look straight.' [Touching his dirk,] Dal Colle. Yet Dante values Cerchi — calls him just. 86 Dante Act II CORSO. Ay, Dante, who, forgetting noble birth, Renounces rights he's heir to, enters name On register with leech and pothecary, So he may claim the privilege of guild, Mixing with herd he builds his hopes upon. 'TIs no strange sight to see him fondle there One of that herd, who higher holds his head Than we, by dint of treading on the toes Of meeker men. Ay, Dante values him, And yet another sayer of small nothings — The Cavalcanti weakling, aping strength. Dal Colle. His poems do not lack in prettlness. CORSO. Nor lack they baseness. I will take my oath Such scurvy poet's rhymes, like beggar's garb. Are picturesque for being out at elbow. Dal Colle, these BlanchI — one and all Must writhe beneath our heels like trodden snakes. Dal Colle. But Dante still Is ours. CORSO. Pray for how long? His growing power In Florence but begets The love of more; he lays aside his rank Act II Dante 87 To gain the people's will — and then? Why, then He'll rule the despot o'er a cringing crowd. Dal Colle. And yet thou'lt help him to domestic ties. He'll marry Gemma — not our party, Corso. CORSO. I give him thus one chance in game of life. The barren peace that Gemma forces on me May bear no fruit but dead sea apples. Our schemes to win him to our cause may fail. The flag of peace, once flapped before my eyes, Is torn to shreds. Dante still pipes to fools. I wish our swords might pin to earth to-day Guldo and Marco treading in his wake. Dal Colle. If Marco'd join our cause, his gold were ours, But he doth linger on the threshold still, Baffling our aims by his vile stubbornness, Though I have given him my child for wife. CORSO. He openly hath taken sides with Dante, A third of Florence echoes to his call. Let us complete to-day what oft hath failed. 88 Dante Act II 'Dante and Guido must be foiled: Marco Must join the common cause — be ours, or die. Dal Colle. Shall I forget he's Cesca's husband, Corso? CORSO. A curse upon his kinship If it block Our way to better things ; so let him bleed. Better his death than our sore defeat. [A crowd of young men enter and roughly jostle the holiday crowd,'] [Corso signs to Dal Colle to come with him. They depart."] [Enter Dante and Guido with retainers. Crowd greets them. They pause as a scuffle occurs.] Street Cries. Now Nerl ! To the wall with the BlanchI I Nay! BlanchI I BlanchI I Down with the Nerll Guido. Hark to the sounds that celebrate to-day I Dante. Such brawlers' din is e'er the matin hymn And evensong of Florence in these times. As downy chicks, surprised by sudden sound, Seek shelter swift beneath their mother's plumes, Act II Dante 89 So do my scattered thoughts, fearing great Ills Befall my town, gather beneath the wings Of my great love, to brood in silence there. These turmoils weigh upon my soul, dear friend. These feuds must end or else our City's doomed. GuiDO. It's Corso's damned Nerl I Dante. And Guldo's Bianchi. GuiDO. Would'st spare the assassin and see Corso Sheathe In my breast his knife ? I deemed till now That our just Dante valued life of friends. Dante. That I do love thee is an old, old song Unto thine ear; that I hate Corso Is No newer one; but justice claims its due Ere friendship, Guido. For our city's good We should preach peace, and peace, and ever peace. GuiDO. A poet's dream is never statesman's craft; Whose party's zeal must color all his acts. 90 Dante Act II Dante. A patriot's zeal should be his country's, too. Ill blood 'twixt neighbors splits most honest skulls, Destroying wantonly, homes, rich and poor. Till 'stead of cheery mart and street, we gain Gardlngos * to our cost. I would these jars Were at an end, and private Interests merged Into a self-forgetting, noble love Of Florence and our Italy, for both Should claim our love and lives. As God is one, And Nature one and Mankind one, so should Our Nation be but one in speech and thought. Then from our Unity would others grow, Till Europe, merging to a mighty whole, Could challenge continents o'er all the earth — Supreme in her united strength and love. GuiDO. Thy words change thoughts of mine to throb- bing deeds That long lay hid in crannies of my soul, Like fern seed in the crevices of ruins. Starting to life when touched by genial light. *Gardingos was a place laid waste by both factions. Act II Dante 91 Dante. All dormant good bursts into bloom when reached By glory of the Eternal * Who all moves. GuiDO. O! ever thou art poet first, then patriot. Dante. No ! lover first, and when I near this house That shelters my beloved liege lady, faint I grow — my swaying knees scarce bear me up. [Dante takes Guido's arm, and they cross to the house as GiTA goes to the casement,] GiTA. [Looking out of the window.'] Here come the poets — our grave Dante and His faithful Cavalcanti. [Turns and calls.] Hi I Lapo I [Addresses the poets who have reached the door.] Patience, good Sers. The knave will open for you. [Lapo enters and unbolts the door for Dante and Guido.] *Vide Paradiso, Canto I. 92 Dante Act II [Enter Dante and Guido^ with their fol- lowers,'] GiTA. [To the poets as they enter."] Honored Sers, I crave your pardon for delay. Ser Falco, but a moment gone, will soon Return. So will the Donna Beatrice. Dante. [To Gemma.] Glad San Giovanni's Day to thee, Madonna ! [Gemma hows in silent acknowledgment.] [ToGlTA.] Good Gita, how fares my sovereign lady? GiTA. Her step still weak, yet did she go to Mass. Methought It was a risky thing to do. Command me, Ser, while waiting for the mas- ter, Should you need wine or sup. GuiDO. Thanks, Gita — thanks. Dante. Madonna Beatrice's sacred zeal Has led her 'mid a crowd of rioters Too boisterous for such gentle graciousness. Gemma. She'll soon return. I felt myself too faint To mix with such a jostling crowd abroad. Act II Dante 93 GUIDO. Thou dost look pale. Did Vanna go with Falco ? Gemma. Ay, and Cesca, too. They're bringing Bice home. Dante. [Courteously.'] Have these warm days already wearied thee? Corso should send thee to the mountains, where The breezes redden cheeks, like generous wine. GUIDO. Dante's prone to prowling, on the crags. His muse The sweeter sings, the nearer to the skies. Dante. To stand and see great cities 'neath one's feet, Vast plains and valleys reaching east and west, With distant mountains rearing purple peaks. Makes man feel humble In his littleness, And puerile the endless strife for wealth. Of all these battling human ants below. A long, deep breath of pure, unsullied air. Sharp with the freshness of the snows revives 94 Dante Act II The soul, strengthens the heart. A great, sweet calm Comes o'er the soul. Madonna Gemma, hie Unto the mountains. Gemma. Alas, their calmness Would not allay my spirit's restlessness. [GuiDO has opened a book and is reading by the casement.] Dante. Too young and gracious art thou, fair Ma- donna, To meet aught in this life to cause thee pain. Gemma. 'Tis pain and joy commingled; such sweet sorrow As spurs thy pen to write its sweetest songs. Dante. [Surprised.] If love has prest a thorn into thy heart. Fear not, for when withdrawn, 'twill burst in bloom And crown thee with its roses. Gemma. Nay, nay, alas! Dante. A young and fair Donati will never lack For ardent wooers. Act II Dante 95 Gemma. Love does not alway answer love's appeal. We women often love where we're unsought. Dante. My sex must stand disgraced, if thou art left To sigh for unresponsive love, Madonna. Gemma. Thy gentle sympathy is balm to me. [She turns to attendant who has been con- versing with GiTA.] iWe will await the lady Beatrice in her room. [To Dante and Gumo.] A short farewell, Messer poets. [Exeunt Gemma, attendants and Gita.] Dante. The maid is pale. May San Giovanni send Her love to color all her life with joy. O, San Giovanni, how June's gracious days Grew bare when they brought sickness to my love — The fragrant flowers seemed to lose their scent, And blue to fade from out the sapphire sky. The sun to lose its potency. The world Became to me a place engulfed In woe. GuiDO. [Joining Dante.] Sink not beneath mishaps, as travellers sink 96 Dante ^Act II Beneath the blinding snow on Switzer heights, Lying like clod benumbed, a senseless weight, Till fatal slumber slips, unmarked, to death. Dante. When Beatrice suffered, life seemed death To me, who lived but in her light. Alas, Why was I reft of power to see my lady When fever shook her tender frame? I'd fain Kneel at her feet, kiss tears off silken lash, As Phoebus kisses dew from grass at dawn; With love soothe pain, and for her spend my strength. Blest was the lowliest wench to wait on her. I could, alas, but stand aloof and sigh. GuiDO. As thou hast ever played a conqueror's part Through bloodiest frays, so bravely face love's war. Dante. Prate not to me of love; prate not of war. I have no heart to face love's cruelties. A dire presentiment o'ershadows me. This boasted strength of mine may fail me sadly. Some haply find their courage born full- grown, 'Act II Dante 97 Like Pallas from Jove's front, to suit the hour, While others find their bravery but babe When chance may give It birth; so found I mine. It sorry suckling proved when 'mid the strife I first drew blade and fought at Campaldino. Corso then showed he was a soldie^^ born. Like birds, men stricken fell 'neath archers' aim; Rotella and Parvesa shields were pierced By trusty lance, smooth swords smote skull- caps through; While foremost in the ranks rode Feditorl ! With cry of * Cavalierl ! ' or * Narbonne ! ' When wild came answer back from Aretines And Ghibellines the cry of * San Donato ! ' Then grew my courage at a breath — a man — And fast coursed heated blood through swol- len veins. We met our foes as wave would break on wave. Our blows and bodies mixed In bloody whole. Fierce raged the fight, dense dust dimmed light of day, Till sun was but a red blot In the sky. And through the murky gloom crawled ser- pent-like 98 Dante Act II False Ghlbelllnes to reach us unawares Beneath Palfreni and Ronzoni, where They wound themselves and with long knives ripped up Poor brutes, who writhing fell and brought to earth Their gallant riders. Corso Donati, still Obedient to his chief, impatiently Had watched the field — now as spectator stood No longer. * Men,' cried he aloud, * are we To look thus tamely on, so we may pour In ears of Florentine the dismal tale Of this day's dread defeat and comrade's death? Or must I risk my head to save the day? Let us b\it charge, and if we fail we die With brothers bravely; or, if victory God grant us, I, for disobedience, then The penalty will pay, and let who will Come to Pistoria for my head.' These words Scarce said, when he and his two hundred knights Dashed deep into the fight. Guido Novello, Act II Dante 99 The Ghlbelllne's brave Bishop's hope, first stayed, Then fled. The priestly soldier saw all lost. And we at last sought death in one mad charge ; The day was ours I Ah, had we pushed our steps On to Arezzo then, our blades still wet, .Would well have forced an entrance to the town. Delays are dangerous, e'en to conquerors. For hours are sharpest weapons to thinking foes. Faster than spider's web are spun fresh hopes, Fresh plots and plans, by busy brains, while winds Are drying drops on sword and helm and lance. Unless through lengthened reign of peace it comes, The rust that dims knights' arms dishonoreth souls. Faith ! Campaldino's battle taught me more Than all the lore of chivalry I learnt Through youth.* It was a glorious fight. *Vide Napier's Florentine History. 100 Dante Act II GUIDO. Why sigh As If to thee a twelve months' lapse from war Seemed centuries? Art warrior more than poet? Dante. My prisoned sighs burst forth from darkened heart Like slaves long pent up in cold cells; but war Was not the jailor that undid their bars. 'Twas love who broke their chains — op'd wide the door. The thought that I could prate of fight long past When light of one fair star doth wane apace, Brought contrite heaviness unto my heart. GuiDO. Sweet Beatrice oft is 111, 'tis true, But herbs and potions will restore her strength. Dante. The jealous angels hover near her couch; The rustle of their wings is in my ears; But once these arms enfold her as my bride. My love will fetter her to earth, till time Hath gently weaned us from warm, joys of earth, Act II Dante ioi And sobered us to thoughts of heaven alone. GuiDO. But she's di Bardi's bride. Dante. Mine Is her heart, And mine she Is In life here and hereafter. The little songs I sing of her to-day Are prelude to the greatest poem I'll pen To glorify her name — her saintly love Will send me wondrous visions, never seen By mortal men — Hell's gate shall ope to me And Purgatory's painful path shall lead My weary steps to Paradise, where 'mid The shining throng, Beatrice near the throne, I'll find a sun above the stars of heaven. [Marco is seen in the street coming hack to the house: GuiDO at the casement sees him and waves to him,] GuiDO. Here's Marco, amorously sad, while parted E'en for an hour from his se'ennlght bride. [One of his retainers opens the door — enter Marco in haste,] Dante. What stirring news hangs on thy tongue, Marco? 102 Dante Act II Marco. The swords are clashing once again in Flor- ence: I passed the brawlers as I hither came. Another riot, born this morning, hangs On tongue and town. Each faction fights its rival. With his slight escort, Falco pushed his way. Like frightened pullets in a sudden shower, The women scurry home. Dante. And whither Falco? Marco, He swore heM reach the church and Beatrice. Dante. He'd reach the church ? What meanest thou ? More lies Behind thy speech. Out with th' assassin thoughts That lurking 'neath thy words, clasp cold, keen knives To stab me through and through the soul. Come forth, O murderous thieves, to kill my rest, steal strength ; Better to face worst foe than live in dread Of ambushed ills. Speak out thy fears. Act II Dante 103 Marco. They say That Beatrice swooned while in the church — Is like to die. Dante. To die — no, no — not yet I My Beatrice must not die I Though all the hosts Of white-winged souls and halo-crowned saints Hymn their enthralling welcomes to her ear, My love must charm her back to earth again. To die — to He forever hid from eyes That live but for her beauty. No, not yet I GUIDO. So runs the rhyme around life's vestment hem. The words * not yet ' are woven into fibre Of fleshly robe we don at natal hour. * Not yet ' and still ' not yet ' is clearly read E'en in our life's old rags. Dante. She can not die Till I have sung my lady's fame to heights Untouched by poets yet of any age. GUIDO. Can sparrow's chirps keep back the floods of heaven ? 104 Dante Act II Can aspen's trembling stop the thunderbolt? Can man's weak moaning stay one dart of death? Dante, where hides thy loved philosophy? Dante. Go ask the cautious snail when earthquakes rend The meads and mounts, where lies his trusty shell. GUIDO. Friend, friend, must all thy future dreams end thus? Dante. I have no future if my lady dies I Shall worms wax fat beneath her coffin lid Upon her dainty limbs? No — no — O God! She must not die. {Sits with his head buried in his hands.] Marco. Dante, arouse thee from thy dreams of love. As patriot arise, there's harm afoot, One of my men o'erheard some private speech Of enemies who doom thy friends to death, Defeat to all thy plans, and banishment For thee — Dante. A plot to drive me hence ! They'll fail ! Act II Dante 105 But through their knavery, my tenure then As Prior may be short, yet long enow To hold rebellious Florence in my grasp. GuiDO. This means cursed Corso's work. O Dante, act! Surround hirn and his men while in the streets And trap the crafty vulture in a net. Dante. In the open men must snare great quarry: Treachery is poor stepping-stone to honor. {He takes out his tablets and writes on one.] Marco. Wilt see us murdered? Dante. Florence will judge these men: My wise colleagues, the Priors, loathing feuds, Are weighing means to end these senseless brawls. [Holding up tablet,'] This summons them to meeting in the Square. Then the will of Florence ye shall know from me. io6 Dante Act II [He hands the tablet to some of his men with a few words aside. The men leave instantly,] 'Twill take most active heels and subtle brains T' outwit Durante Alllghlerl I GuiDO. [At window.] Thy hawks are off, soaring as for a prize, They'll cleave the crowd, and soon be flutter- ing back. [Enter Francesca Nerli, Giovanna and ladies and DiNO and Gemma Donati and attendants.] Dante. [Rises, and hurriedly meets them. The ladies surround him.] What news, Giovanna 1 Speak I Giovanna. Would that to-day had never dawned, Guido ! Francesca. Ill, and no one nigh I Ladies. Alas, sweet Bice! Dante. [Impetuously.] Resolve these sentences to sense. Speak out ! The truth — where is Madonna Bice? Speak! Francesca. When she fell fainting in the church, the crowd Act II Dante 107 Waxed great. Her father's men cleared space around; One of her women sent the clown to us. Little we recked 'twas Bice needed help, When with a jest we sallied forth to her. Dante. {Laying a hand on DiNo's arm.'] Dino, the truth — Beatrice—^ DiNO. Fear not; No harm befalls her in the church. Her maid Awaited us beneath a porch near by. The street, impact with battling, raging men, Placed barrier betwixt us and our goal. So Falco shouted through the surging crowd : * Haste thou and house the women; then re- turn With men to bring our Beatrice home.' Dante. [To Lapo and men who are coming in,] Arm yourselves. Fellows, haste I Get arms — we must To Falco. Haste I Lapo and Others. Ay, we'll get arms. Both legs And arms are at our master's service. io8 Dante 'Act II Dante. [Imperiously.] Haste ! [Exeunt Lapo and men. Dante takes sword from wall, which he examines. Also, a dirk,] Gemma. day of woe I Francesca. [To Marco.] O, If my love Is dear to thee, stay here! 1 do implore thee go not into Florence. Marco. If Florence were a maid and I most false Thou couldst not speak of her more jealously. I must get men and join the Priors and Dante. Fear not, sweet spouse, I'll be with thee anon. [He embraces her and goes out,] Francesca. [To Dante.] O Dante, use thy power to end these feuds. Thou swayst our town ; stir it to better issues. Dante. Ay, we need men to rule with Iron hand. To quell the strifes that ruin the city's strength. These sad divisions mine our party's force, Like glacial cracks, which split the avalanche That had resisted centuries of storms; By Its internal parting rent at last Act II Dante 109 From lofty mountain once it proudly crowned, And In Its fall annihilates Itself, As well as country that It falls upon. In vain we call on patron saint, St. John, And trust him as defender of our town. While In our hearts are lingering bitter hates Proclaiming us still worshippers of Mars, Whose statue yet adorns the Ponte Veccio. Gemma. [Aside.] Now let my woman's will beat down m.y fears. And like a conqueror o'er-ride my heart, Till I have played my desperate part to-day. [Approaches Dante.] [Aloud.'] And must thou go with Falco's men? Dante. Could I Walt here, not knowing how my lady fares? [Impatiently.] Where linger those base knaves? We must away! [Re-enter Lapo and men^ armed.] At last! Now forward! Haste to join thy master. And fight for him as if, by San Giovanni, no Dante 'Act II Thy soul's salvation hung on each sword thrust. The Men. By the three kings we swear it, we swear it I Dante. Away I [Gemma starts to follow him. Exit with men,] Curtain ACT III Church of San Giovanni: Vacca Tozver in the distance. The Square is full of holiday seek- ers — some already quarrelling. On the right two nobles sit playing chess. On the left, peo- ple are gathering. There are citizens, soldiers, an ass driver selling milk, a charlatan calling his wares, boys playing hazard with dice. Charlatan. Come, come I Be thine own apothecary. Ho! Presto! Try but the breadth of fly's wing Of this magic salve, and mend thy bones; Rub but a gnat's weight of it on thy bald head And lo ! Thou'lt have an avalanche of hair. [Charlatan himself is bald.] First Citizen. Body o' Bacchus ! thou hast not tried It, then, Upon thyself! Second Citizen. Faith, the bear needs his own grease. Charlatan. Doth thy wife, blackbeard, keep the street awake III 112 Dante Act III With loud, unseemly clamors In the night? OH but her tongue with this — I'll promise thee The chatter will cease. Second Citizen. 'Twould be a charity To use his salve upon his chattering tongue. Charlatan. And kinder still, to use it on thy wit. A Peasant. [To Charlatan.] Is't good for earache, for that doth plague me much? Charlatan. Ay, and for the tooth and stomach ache, old man. [He sells some.] First Citizen. I'll try the varlet's wares to test his words. Charlatan. Doth memory fail — but rub this on thy tem- ples. And thou'lt recall what happened ere thy birth. Ass Driver. Now, surely, as the devil hath a tail. Thou must be rubbing thine own temples well To recollect all thy Igng-winded jargon ! Act III Dante 113 \_Crowd closes arpund Charlatan.] [A lady enters and passes the chessplay- ers.'] [A hoy is nailing Noble's cloak to the bench on which he is sitting.'] Lady. Greeting, good Ser, greeting to our friends. [Noble attempts to rise, but is held fast by the cloak nailed to the bench.] Lady. Still thou sittest; thou hast no manners, man. Noble. In vain I try to rise, by San Giovanni! Lady. I prithee swear not. Tho' thy tongue rapped out In good round oaths the name of every saint, Thy sophistry would not convert my logic. [Noble springs up, leaving part of cloak fast.] Noble. Madonna ! Thou seest my cloak was caught. A nail, A sinning nail kept my legs laggard. Now Thou dost not think I would not rise for thee? 114 Dante Act III Lady. I think — ^what matters what I think? Good- day. [Exit Lady.] First Noble. Ay — but the nail— - Second Noble. Ay, ay, butt it, butt It. First Noble. Thou cursed spike, to spoil both cloak and temper! Second Noble. And game. Who played this churlish trick? First Noble. Ay, who? [He looks round at boys near him.] Knowing, his inch of iron I would pay By promptly putting in his hide some steel. First Lad. 'Twas he who nailed thy coat. Second Lad. Thou liestl Third Lad. Thou liest. As all the Neri do. Take that! {They fight.] Act III Dante 115 A Citizen. Fair play, Ye scurvy Bianchi I First Lad. Ho I Out on ye there, Ye unwashed Neri! Second Lad. He's hit — ho! he's hit I A Citizen. Smite him from crown to sole, thou halting fool! Second Noble, 'TIs one more grasshopper down in the dust I First Noble. Now, Neri, we BlanchI will teach ye courage! [Enter CORSO and Dal Colle and retain- ers, CORSO and his men join in the scrimmage.'] Dal Colle. [Aside.] sin, conceived of fell temptation, And born of opportunity! In vain 1 strive with thee. Seeming afar but shade Scarce worth the fighting; near, a substance foul, Most deadly real — a hydra-headed foe — A protean horror that entwines around me ii6 Dante Act III Cold, callous colls, till, strangjed, I must yield Its slave and victim, every sense Its own, While hotter grows the stifling air about. Hell's breath seems seething up beneath my feet. And spirit voices echo — lost — lost — lost! Yet Marco's grown a deadly foe to-day And self-defense calls for his swift removal. [Enter messenger hurriedly and as he pushes his way through the crowd he calls out.'} Messenger. Put up your swords — ho! peace the Priors preach — Put up your swords, the Priors come and sol- diers. [Exit.] [Some of the fighting stops: the Vacca be- gins tolling.'] First Citizen. List to the bell. The Vacca calls aloud. What means this hasty summons? What new wrongs Are we to right? What right to wrong again? [Enter more citizens.] Act III Dante 117 Second Citizen. 'Tis noon; behold me Beppo Bianca here. My bales t'unpack themselves are idly left, And I wait to be asked why came I here. As yet the reason Is as clear to me As addled egg to housewife. Third Citizen. Thine own pate Must addled be, if thou knowst not that Dante And the Priors are meeting here to-day. This message has been sent throughout the town. Ay, Dante's wise and cares for th' common weal. Second Citizen. Ay, ay; he joined thy guild — most valiant Lapo. [Enter Marco and men; they join some of the youths, CoRSO's men are pushing to the wall.] CORSO. How, Marco — art fighting for the Bianchi, When Cesca's father and her kin are Neri? Marco. A Guelph am I, and that's enow for me; And I defend a friend when he's attacked. ii8 Dante Act III Dal Colle. {Joining Corso.] Thou'rt traitor, Marco, to the common cause. [CoRSo's and Dal Colle's men surround Marco.] Marco. [To Dal Colle.] What treachery Is this — Dal Colle — speak! Corso. {To Marco.] One chance we offer thee — swear faith to us, Swear that from Florence we will exile Dante. Marco. As I loathe thee, I swear to loathe thine oaths. Dal Colle. No jesting, man ! 'Twixt life and death thou stand'st. Give us a yea, thou'lt live; a nay, thou diest. Marco. Nay, though it meant for me a thousand deaths. Corso. {Striking him.'] One death thou'lt find sufficient for thy years. Marco. Traitors ! Not one true man amongst ye all ? Corso. As true as steel when 'tis to slay our foes. [Marco is attacked from all sides,] Act III Dante 119 Marco. [Wounded.'] One sword 'gainst three. How brave the Neri are! Dal Colle. [Striking him,'] Silence, thou whining dog. CORSO. Ay, silence him. [One of CoRSO's men stabs Marco in the back.] Marco. [Falling.] Ye villains ! O, God be merciful to me ! Be merciful, ten-fold, to my poor Cesca ! [He dies.] [Cries outside.] DonatI ! Donatl ! Down with the BianchI I Allighierl ! Make way for Dante! A Citizen. There Dante comes to cow the fighting mob. [CoRSO^s men separate. Some shield from view Marco's body. Others attack Dante's and GuiDo's retainers as they rush in, followed by Dante and GuiDO Cavalcanti.] 120 Dante ^Act 111 GUIDO. Body o' Bacchus I But some fists strike hard ! Dante. Art hurt, Guido? GuiDO. No, no ; my breath but failed For lack of space to breathe in 'gainst the wall. The shouting mob press on to reach the church. 'Tis our own men at odds with Corso's crew! Dante. And both are blocking road to Beatrice ! On to church! Out of my way, ye varlets. [Gemma rushes in as Corso's men menace Dante.] Gemma. O, save him ! Spare our Dante ! Though all Florence Were slain! O, Corso, take my life for his! [Gemma falls at Dante's feet.l Dante. Poor maid! Through fright her wits are wandering. CORSO. Art thou a wanton to proclaim thy love In public street? Hath Dante piped to thee 'Act III Dante 121 In secret? Then go to him with my curses: Our roof no longer shelters such as thou I [He thrusts at her and turns away.] Dante. Such villainy reaps bloody recompense. I Dante places Gemma in care of friends, [Then, with GuiDO, presses up to church and enters,] [[Enter FrancescA with Giovanna and an attendant,] OPrancesca. Against all warning Marco's thrust his head Into the lion's jaw's, defying Corso. Giovanna. Have patience, Cesca. Francesca. Mine's gone with Marco. Corso. [Coming up to them,] Back, Madonna; we need no women here! Francesca. Tin solving my sore doubts, my weary feet Must pace the stones of Florence, though they burn The flesh from off my bones like heated ploughshares. There is a very cruelty In the air, A subtle sense of guilt and passion roused. 122 Dante Act III O, let me to my father — \_She breaks away from CoRSO and, seeing her father, rushes to Dal Colle who tries to turn from her. She clasps his clock and sinks upon her knees before him.] Francesca. Here at thy feet, In all my woman's helplessness, I fall, Still, still thy child, to plead as in the days When scarce my baby hands could reach thy knees, To plead for what to me is more than life — My husband — O, give me back my Marco 1 The crowd was yelping ye had come to blows, • And though I know thy father love is shield For all thy daughter's wedded happiness. Still other hearts, more hardened, throng the streets. Father, one word from thee will sparer me pain. Speak — where is Marco? [Dal Colle turns away. She looks at CoRSO and sees a spot on his cloak,'] [To CORSO.] There's blood upon thee I O, God— If Marco's Act III Dante 123 [Francesca rises and through an opening in the ranks of CoRSO's men sees Marco's body. She rushes to the corpse and falls on her knees beside it,"] Francesca. O, he^s wounded. Help 1 My Marco, speak I Where art thou hurt? Look up I rm here — thy Cesca — here to tend on thee. We'll home, and there I'll nurse thee well again. [Francesca pauses and realizes he is dead.] Francesca. No — ^no — not that! Speak to me — Marco • — speak ! One word — one little word! My love — my life! My Marco — God! Here with him let me die! [She flings herself on Marco's body.] Soldiers. {Entering.l Make room — give way! For the Priori, room! [Enter Priori. Corso's men draw up in front of Francesca and the corpse, hiding them from view as Dante and !I24 Dante Act III GuiDO appear on the Church steps with Falco.] Street Cries. Down with the Bianchil Neril Nerll Portlnari to me! Cavalcanti I CavalcantI I Dante. We must disperse this crowd so Beatrice Can restfully be brought unto her home. Falco. And there, God willing, we can nurse her well. Dante. [To the People.'] *PeaceI In Christ^s name, peace! Have ye forgotten *The word first sounded in the shepherds' ears, *0n that first Christmas Eve? Not Honor, *Strength, Beauty, Wealth! — but peace! did angels sing. Put up your swords; let not your brethren bleed. [Moh resumes shouting. Priori advance toward the Church.] Dante. *Peace be with you I This salutation was * Dt Menarchia. Act III Dante 125 * From our Lord Christ, for It behooved Him, *As our great Saviour, in this greeting sweet *To bless us with the best of blessings — Peace! Put up your swords — I say, put up your swords ! Street Cries. Ay, peace! Peace! Put up your swords! Hear Dante! [Dante descends to the last steps of the church where the Priori meet him. Soldiers stand on guard.] Renewed Cries. Alllghlerl! Dante Alllghieri! Let's hear our poet ! — let Dante speak ! [Dante has been speaking to Priori aside.] Dante. My friends, when I did asK that we should meet, 'Twas for no Idle jest. We do not need Some strange new pageant — no gay lords of love With train of tinselled, white-robed votaries. * De Monarchia. •126 Dante '^ct III Such joys belong to calmer hours than these. We need our grandsires' days when high dames spun In distaff glorying more than In their jewels; *When painted face was deemed a sore dis- grace, *And women for simplicity were loved; *When proudest noble clasped his cloak with bone, *And girded waist with leathern belt; when man *Felt not the want of rich habiliments. Possessions have their worth, but they are naught, Compared to virtue; think ye money bags Have handed honored names down to these times ? We learn that Socrates scarce owned three minae.** Would these few ducats satisfy our greed? Yet, are we wiser than great Plato's master? We need what served our sires — strong si- news — nerves Of iron, with brave hearts and unity. *Paradiso, Canto 15. ** About $50. Act III Dante 127 Our town Is daily menaced by fierce foes: We must unite to-day within her walls If we would conquer enemies without. We must unite to show St. Peter's Vicar, That of the Church we are true sons; that ne'er *Is Florentine by quenched, inverted torch Sent to unhonored grave : Unite to show The rulers of the world, we hold our own. These party zeals are like the mountain streams That green the banks they touch, and turn the mills; Of use to farms and hamlets, but grander far As tributaries to some nobler river. That, bearing commerce on its bosom, sweeps. Broadening its lordly course to open sea. The Neri, Bianchi, Guelph and Ghlbelline May influence some towns, but they should merge Into one mighty stream of thought and act, One grand, harmonious whole, one Italy, Bearing Its wealth, its might, in glorious trumph * Persons excommunicated were buried with extin- guished and inverted torches. 128 Dante Act III To the great tossing ocean of the world. If we would learn proud line in history, We must attempt the greatest conquest known — The conquest of ourselves. We come — to- day — Devising how we best can peace secure, For Florence, now with discord rent. l^Draws out a paper,"] And I with my colleagues this paper bring Here to be signed : an ordinance by which The Inciters of these party feuds be banished, As baleful to the welfare of this town. CORSO. Banished? And who dares banish us? Dante. Thy speech Betrays thine own perception of the wrong Thou hast done Florence. Dal Colle. We can no more lay claim to our own souls. If one man's breath blows us without these walls. A Citizen. What say the Priors? CORSO. Ay, let them speak. ^Act III Dante 129 A Prior. As spokesman for the rest, I do attest That we agree with Dante's reasoning. My name shall witness this. [He signs. ^ Other Priors. And mine. [Signs.] And mine. [Signs.] First Prior. And thus we hope to lessen future bloodshed. Dal Colle. Whose name stands written on that fateful list? CORSO. The Florentines should best decide who'll drink From foreign wells — ^who'll eat an exile's bread. Dante. The matter is decided by the people. CORSO. Then needs no tremor shake these legs of mine ; The people's choice, the soldiers' friend, the man 130 Dante Act III Who risked his head on Campaldlno's plain For our town's sake, needs be her trusty friend. Soldiers. Ay, ay, thou art our friend. Long live the Baron ! GUIDO. \JVho has been talking with his men.] Then long live strife, deceits and lying words. CORSO. Thou rascal! Dante. Your quarrel end without these walls. CORSO. What— I? GUIDO. I, Dante? Dante. Both of ye must hence. A Citizen. What ! Dante's friend share fate of Dante's foe? GUIDO. And thus does Dante prove his love for friends. Dante. Before the Paradise of friendship stands Act III Dante 131 An angel with a mighty flaming sword, And * Duty,' * Justice,' are his warning words. Ere heart of mine can give one beat for thee, It needs must throb an hundred times for Florence. Yet — O, my Guldo, if thou couldst but know How much my heart doth daily throb for thee, 'Twould ease thy pain at turning face from home. GUIDO. Prate of thy love when thy acts prove that love. Dante. Necessity, not malice, prompts my acts; A mightier will than ours controls this day. *Tis Florence speaks, beseeching peace! 'TIs Florence speaks, and in that name de- part! CoRSO. [Fiercely,'] Not I ! The lily-livered poet may. Let Guldo carol loveless odes beyond Our gates; but I remain. Fm planted here To stay by people's will — [Murmurs among the crowd,] Ay, let them speak! 132 Dante Act III People. We want the baron I Long days to Corso! We need Donati ! Never banish him ! GuiDO. [To the people,'] Behold your, hero's work! A stab in the back! [GuiDO^ aided by retainers, pushes aside the crowd that concealed Marco's body from view.] Corso. At times, perforce, justice must stain our hands. GuiDO. Say *hate' 'stead * justice,' as nearer to the truth, If truth can lodge near thee. Dante. [Seeing corpse for the first time,'\ O, Marco murdered! [The murmuring crowd changes and now threatens CoRSO.] A Prior. There lies an honest man; true friend to Florence ! A Citizen. The poor throughout the town will miss his dole. 'Act III Dante 133 Second Citizen. Ay, banish the man who murdered Marco. Street Cries. Banish him! Banish Corsol Let the Priori banish him I Dante. [Conquering his emotion,'] [To CORSO.] Proud man-, we only banish thee from home. Beware thy sins exile thee not from Heaven I CORSO. I fear not Heaven, nor hell, nor Church, nor devil ! And that ! [Snapping his fingers.] For thy short-lived authority! Dante. To kennel, curl There gnaw thy rotten bones; Leave men alone.. A thing like thee knows not The love of home. And all thy country's woes Are less to thee than battling ants In sand. Thou only feelst what touches thy thick hide. ^Justice and Mercy scorn to notice thee, *And men but throw a glance at thee and pass. *Divina Comedia. 134 Dante Act III [Guards seize CORSO.] [A Monk, with crucifix held aloft, comes out of the Church, Two ladies support- ing Beatrice follow. They pause and Beatrice sinks to the ground between them, GiOVANNA joins them, Falco and Dante rush to her side,] Dante. Speak, Vanna, Is Bice — nay I nay ! be silent, Lest with thy words my heartstrings snap in twain I Falco. O Beatrice, my fairest flower! [He bows his head weeping at her feet.] GiOVANNA. Ay, weep, Falco, weep, for nevermore shall we Be gladdened by sweet Bice's voice on earth. Dante, [^ho has been gazing at BEATRICE as though dazed.] Beatrice — Madonna — Beloved ! [He kneels beside her and tries to put his arms around her,] GiOVANNA. Stay, stay ! Intrude not on a father's rights. Dante. [Wildly.] Away ! there are no rights as strong as love's. Act III Dante 135 She IS but mine, still mine — though dying, mine. GlOVANNA. .Yet thine no more, unless thou'lt claim the dead. Dante. Dead! My Beatrice dead I My soul es- caped from me While still I live ! {He kisses Beatrice.] Dead I Beatrice I Ifie swoons.l Curtain ACT IV: Scene L Entrance to a cemetery near Florence. Enter a hand of Pilgrims, chanting. They escort Francesca and Dante's daughter, Bice, who are also in Pilgrim garb. The scene is in fad- ing twilight, Francesca. Beneath these sombre pines, my Bice, rest; Thy will o'erleaps thy strength, and far our goal. Bice. Though twice as far and high before me rose Range upon range of purple hills beyond That must be scaled ere Dante could be reached, And every step left crimson stain behind; rd gladly on, all toil as naught to me. When It will bring me to my father's side. Francesca. And all my steps are weighted with the thought Of mine. I am unfathered by grim deeds, Unsexed by treason, treachery and lies. Dal Colle's dead, with all his guilt upon him, 136 'cene I Dante 137 Without a moment spared for prayer, struck down Amidst the riot fostered by his friends — * Bice. [Crossing herself.] Pray for his soul, Forgotten be his sins. He was thy father. FrancescA. And Marco, slain before his eyes lies there. [Indicating cemetery.] The moment that we tarry here, I'll kneel Beside my Marco's grave. A Pilgrim. Madonna Cesca, Stay not too long, for night Is falling fast. [Francesca and Bice enter the cemetery.'] Second Pilgrlm. Alas, that Dante's daughter Should find these times too perilous for home I [Enter two Travellers.] First Traveller. Greetings, good pilgrims! Whither are ye bound? First Pilgrim. Away from here, to other stranger shrines. Second Traveller. We hasten to renew our love for Florence; ,138 Dante 'Act IV For twelve long months we loitered In far Spain, And now return to greet old friends again. Second Pilgrim. May Heaven grant you find your friends alive I First Traveller. iWhat mean ye? Has plague swept o'er the city? Second Pilgrim. A plague of ruffians, ruthless In their crimes. First Traveller. Our Priors — what do they? Second Pilgrim. Alas, the Priors Were driven forth when Corso ventured back! His speech Inflamed the soldiers, caught the people. Red riot ruled for days. A council then iWas held, and BianchI banished — Dante first! First Traveller. Dante! Durante Allighieri banished! First Pilgrim. D, fortune has not smiled of late on Flor- ence; Scene I Dante 139 The city's rife with strife. Sedition breeds In every court. Peace-loving citizens Must leave. Their only safety lies in flight. First Traveller. This news to us bears tragic import, father. Second Pilgrlm. My sons, betake ye to another town Until these feuds have spent themselves in blood. Second Traveller. To stand almost upon the threshold of Our homes and then turn back I First Traveller. Better than death! First Pilgrim. Or torture ! Corso spares nor young nor old Of those who favor Dante I Second Traveller. We are loyal And could not turn his enemies. Alas, That Florence so repays the debt she owes Her greatest manl First Traveller. We win not wander far, But in some village bide till we can send 140 Dante Act IV Some message unto friends. Farewell, good father, We crave thy blessing. Second Pilgrim. May the Lord protect Your journeyings. Farewell. [Exeunt Travellers.] First Pilgrim. We may encounter More travellers to turn back upon the road. A Young Pilgrim. Is Rome to be our goal? Is Boniface The Blanches friend? Solve me this riddle now; Are we lost flies In priestly web. Or are we little spiders to be gorged On sacred Fly's domain? An Old Pilgrim. I love not jests. Pm but a pilgrim, not a politician, To lapse into such idle sophistries. First Pilgrim. Those well-fed Politicians — ^woe to them I A starving ass is fairer sight to me; For, at his worst, the beast Is but an ass. While politician oft is ass and devil. Scene 7 Dante 141 Second Pilgrim. We are too near the blackened ruins of pal- aces. DIno, vile Corso's tool, doth spy abroad. Fagot and steel may lurk In every shadow. We must be gone ! [Re-enter FrancescA and BiCE.] So gentle ladles, come! Francesca. Ay, let us go. Farewell, thou fatal Flor- ence ! Bice. Farewell, O beauteous Florence that Dante bore And yet rejects him from her breast at last. [Pilgrims pass out, chanting softly.] [Enter Uberto and Antonio, in monks' robes, carrying a bundle. They are fol- lowed by several young Noblemen.] Uberto. Here dwell at least some peaceful Floren- tines, Who seek no fight since last with death they strove. Here, side by side, they lie untroubled now. Though once they hotly clashed their hands to thighs, 142 Dante ActlV^ And wrote with sword red answer to a scoff. The traitor years too swiftly steal our strength, And leave us barely time with trembling lips To say Amen to life's short prayer. A Youth. Uberto, Why hast thou brought us to the Campo Santo ? Why were we told to meet In council here? Uberto. I fain to-night would see my friends oncd more, Ere parting from my home. Youth. Is this farewell? Uberto. Lest evil days overtake two gentle pilgrims I follow in the friar's wake ; until Their Mecca's reached, I'll guard the wan- derings Of Cesca and Beatrice my liege lady. A lustrous sorrow crowns her loveliness. Betrayed by Boniface, betrayed by Florence, Her father roams a weary wanderer, Well nigh a beggar, through most parts where one Scene I Dante 143 Melodious tongue is heard. Still proud and brave He challenges misfortune and bears Its wounds ; Is driven by blasting breath of poverty To divers ports — a barque sans sails, sans rudder. I go to join our Dante. Will ye come? Antonio. I follow thee. My sword Is thine till death. Uberto. [To the others.] What, none but we to join the banished Dante? Has he then spent his years in vain for you ? Did he not sing to move your sluggish souls, Teaching the higher life for daily needs? A Noble. And singing of Spring and happy lovers, aye Dante Was erstwhile yclept the baker's happy poet, So friendly was he with the lower herd. Uberto. For shame to carp at foibles of the great. Be imitator rather of his virtues, And draw his shining robe o'er travel stains, He won in marching on to victory. 144 Dante Act IV [He draws his sword and holds it upJ] Here solemnly I consecrate my life To highest knighthood, true to Dante's creed; To be defender of all woman's honor, To succor weak and helpless, lead chaste life, Be true to friend and just to enemy. Fight for home, for Mother, Church and Florence, For unity In all loved Italy. A Noble. Uberto, thou art right; I'll follow thee. Several. I pledge to follow where our Dante leads. Uberto. Then cloak thine armor with these friar's robes To mingle with the pilgrim throng anon. [Uberto and Antonio open the bundle; they take out Monk^s robes. These are put on the young men,] A Youth. By the Holy Rood, I love adventure! Another Youth. And I a just revenge on some must take. Uberto. Forget thy private wrongs, forego thy hate, Scene I Dante 145 Till with one voice we Florentines can cry Shouting defiance at all foreign rats Who gnaw into the stronghold of our rights. For love of justice, not for sport we fight; As free men swear ye all to follow me, Pure, loyal knights vowed to a noble life. The Young Nobles. By the three Kings we swear it, we swear it ! Uberto. Hush, I hear a step. [They conceal themselves. It grows dark. Enter CoRso, Donati and Three Fol- lowers.] CORSO. Art sure Uberto came this way to-night? A Follower. He left the city with a friend but now, And Dino said the. Campo Santo was Their trysting place. Corso. Ay, Dino serves me well As fox to watch this hunted lion's whelp. The price he asks is Beatrice's hand. Gemma, in safety housed, demands but peace; Uberto rears his youthful crest and crows Defiance to my will — this arrogance 14^ Dante Act IV Shall be stamped out, tho' Bice whines for him. But like a shell I'll grind him with my heel, Ashes and axe and flood, for all damned BianchI My hand can reach — Uberto falls the first. [To a Follower.] Guard well that gate, lest he pass unawares. envious night, that hides my destined prey Still from my itching blade. The cursed fool I [Follower crosses to gate.] Not till my foot rests on his lying throat Can my hot thirsting for revenge be sated. Uberto. [Aside.] 1 know 'tis Corso mutters, so beware I A skulking figure glided to the gate; We are surrounded. Courage, friends, unite, And strike a blow to-night for liberty. [Aloud.] Are strangers here? [Uberto advances,] CoRSO. The cub comes to his doom. Uberto. A voice of friend or foe ? Scene I Dante 147 CORSO. Be that thy answer. [CoRSO strikes at Uberto.] [To his men.] Ho, fellows ; scatter wide these praying saints. Ub ERTO. [Fighting. ] Each pilgrim's rosary to-night is steel. [The Young Men throw back their hoods and rush to the attack, Uberto wounds CORSO, and a companion runs him through. Fight barely discernible in the dark.] CORSO. O, death to reach me through a boy — a boy ! [He dies.] [CoRSO's Men flee.] Uberto. To thee our thanks to-night, most gracious Lord I \_All stand with bowed heads bared.] Now, onward, friends, and be our watchword ' Dante.' All. Ay, Dante! Dante I Dante I Curtain ACT IV: Scene II Ducal Palace at Verona, A large entrance hall; on one side steps lead out into the dusk of the Garden; on the right is an alcove with heavy tapestries, looped back; in the alcove is a wide casement with a deep window seat. Ink horn and script lie on the latter. In the rear is a door leading to the street. The curtain rises on a group of pages sitting on the steps to the alcove with hawks fettered. Enter Jester and Giotto, First Page. My hawk much faster flies than thine; his eyes Shine like the jewel In the Ducal ring. Second Page. Mine faster flies — thou knowest It — mark this; How strong his wing; how sharp his beak. First Page. Like Dante's. [They laugh,"] Jester. Stealing my jokes? Hatch thine own eggs, Cuckoo. 148 Scene II Dante 149 First Page. Nay, not thy jokes. They're stale as last year's fish. Who cracks thy nuts of wit, finds dust within. [Jester tumbles the Page over,'] Jester. There, lick the dust, thou most rampageous urchin. Second Page. [To Giotto,'] As friend of Dante, urge him smooth his scowls. The Prince 111 brooks the poet's moodiness. Giotto. Those scowls are born of base Ingratitude, And triple crown of pain ; Beatrice's death, The failure of an embassy — then exile — Second Page. The first was eased by Dante wedding Gemma. Giotto. Her brother's Infamy gave her to Dante, His heart Is In the grave of Beatrice, Though wife and babes and friends claimed e^er his love, When- Dante first found haven In these walls, 150 Dante Act IV *Each wish was granted ere he asked, but now Can Grande treats him oft less courteously. Page. The Prince's wife may answer for such sin. Giotto. [Cautiously.^ Her Highness is both wondrous, wise and fair. Page. [Laughing.'] And comprehends thy keen diplomacy. [Jester approaches Giotto with a low how.] Jester. Ho I High Day to thee I Thou puissant father of fat ciphers, hail! Hail to paternity of nothings! Giotto. Lies! Jester. Nay, truths, proud painter; didst not make thee great **With one round O? With cipher, zero, naught Conceive it, fashion it and bring it forth ? * Divina Comedia. **Vide Appendix. Scene II Dante 15 1 Shall not posterity swear by thine O? [Singing,] Sing ho! Giotto^s O Brought fame To his name. Giotto. Madonnas meek and holy children may [Crosses himself.] Keep Giotto's name alive some centuries; And may they, too, his body keep alive; We artists need to live like other folk. Jester. ,We jesters need to live like other folk. If brush and chisel warm and feed thee, jokes Are food and fuel for me. So room for the fool! [He turns away and dances a few steps to- ward the Pages.] First Page. 'Tis time to feed the hawks, come Beppo, come. Jester. Ay, feed these, majesties who rule this Court. [Exit, with Pages laughing,] Giotto. How all this royal roystering 152 Dante Act IV, Discordant falls upon one poet's ear — Can Grande has too diverse aims to-day, This statesman skilled and soldier bold, doth stretch Domains throughout the north, and holds the trust Of Vicar-General ; yet with friends he lays His rank aside and wastes whole days In pleas- ure, His love of learning shared with love of hawks. [Giotto seats himself and reads,"] [Enter Dante slowly. 1 Dante. Most bitter are the tears that dew the bread Of beggary, spoiling each savory dish That's doled In charity, arousing thirst For satiate waters of sweet liberty. [Pause,'] Ah, had I Midas' touch to turn these trees To glistening gold, I'd hew them limb from limb. And send them swift into the niggard hands That ope so slowly to remove my wants. They'd clasp these fast and firm, flinging as fuel Scene II Dante 153 The golden boughs upon their household hearths, Feeding their fire of wanton luxuries With my hard gilded thanks. Down, down, thou dream To thy dominion, shared with silent sleep. What am I now to prate of gold? A stone That reckless rolls adown the hill of life; A feather tossed on winds of charity; A broken straw, scarce crediting the truth That once Its stalk upheld rich golden grain, And proudly planted root in native soil. Gaunt visaged poverty, dull-eyed, lean- limbed. With shriveled skin, overlapping sunken paunch. And ribs like ridges in a ploughed field — Thou fearful spectre shadowing my steps, ' Where shall I turn to flee thy dread embrace? The laboring hind who delves his plot of earth Scarce heeds the spectral shade o'er threshold thrown, Save when crops fall and sickness steals his hoard Of hard-earned ducats, and at throat he feels 154 Dante Act IV The tightening grip of want's cold hand and wakes Dreading the dawn will bring this ghost his guest. But foes, familiar, seem at length half friends ; Old griefs in some lives grow to daily needs. Mixed with his crop of fears, a tender hope Buds slowly with a promise of fresh joy, 'And whispers Fortune's smiles may sun him out Of humble home into a larger sphere ; But hath no pangs for proud prosperity He once enjoyed. He neither feels nor knows The anguish of regret o'er glory gone, Eating my vitals like the Spartan fox. My glutton grief still clamors for fresh food. O Beatrice! Only thy pure soul Can soothe my restless spirit's agony. One thought of thee drives sin and sorrow far, As morning sun dispels the summer mist. Out of my endless grief, a monument Shall rise, bearing thy name, to honor thee, Such as no woman ever had before, Scene II Dante 155 And none shall ever know again on earth. [He stands absorbed in thought.'] Giotto. [Shuts his book, rises and crosses to Dante.] Still meditating on thy poem, Dante? How deep are thy thoughts digging into hell ? Dante. The hell I rhyme is here. This earth affords The stuff from which one can create all hells. Giotto. Poor earth — the scape-goat of the preachers ! Dante. Thou'rt right. The fault is less the world's than man's. Mark Florence, how she weeps as slave, when she , Might reign as Queen — through evils crushed to earth. Poisoned by vice ; the asp hid in her breast. Giotto. Hard words from townsman, Prior and Am- bassador. Dante. Erst all these things; but now a wanderer, 156 Dante Act IV Bereft of children, wife and lands. Hast thou Forgot that I am banished, Giotto — Ban- ished I Dost thou not know the meaning of that word? To live forever out of sight and sound Of all we love; to bear a felon's curse; To tread all paths save one that leads to home; To live and die unloved, misjudged, un- blessed I XDante pauses,"] And have the children babble on the street That Dante stole, as Prior, public funds! Giotto. That's the worst crime they could have forged on thee. Dante. What matters how the blow falls, so it comes? All sharpened swords behead, though one from Rome And one from Syria date — ^we die the same. Ay, theft and murder or arson let them charge. And rape and sacrilege — so I am banished, Scene II Dante T57 What matters it by what foul means 'tis done? Though at the reckoning it may later count. Giotto. We need thee, Dante. Since thy exile, Flor- ence Is rife with knavery. Men, callous grown. Are flaunting out their sins In public high- ways, As lousy beggar grins In sun-warmed rags. And loathsome lepers count their hideous sores. Thy banishment was due to treachery. Dante. When wily Corso gained the Pontiff's ear It was BlanchI who sent me to Rome, Trusting that poet's wit and eloquence Could win the Holy Father's sympathy And favorable hearing for our cause. But Corso lingered, embassy being o'er; As midwife marks with silken skein the wrist Of elder twin lest he lose heritage, So marked he well with sacred cord of Rome; His love of power that twined It with his feint At patriotic zeal. He prayed aloud; 158 Dante Act IV * ' When the Vale was sending to the Seven Hills Fresh fuel from the Forest to the Altar, Each stick of wood be an Isaac meekly bound, For sacrifice, as savory offering Unto the God of Justice ' ; but the Pope Suggested that in the Pontlfic thicket A ram might now be caught, a cause evolved To rivet rival factions' feuds, creating A stopgap for the leakage of his power. Giotto. By one weak act of clemency we saw Our gold in stranger hands, our houses razed, The Priors driven forth and Florence fired. May the Lord out of our future Paradise Keep Corso. Dante. Fear not, he's pledged to Hell already. Giotto, our enemies may laugh and gloat Over the blackened ruins of our homes And lord it grimly o'er our lands ; yet free Beyond the traitors' grasp my kingdom lies. [Touching his manuscripts^ To-day we weep the lost; to-morrow men Forget we lived. Peace to our ashes then. *Vide Appendix. Scene II Dante 159 The vast tribunal of uncounted dead Dusts dancing feet of wantons; but fresh, full life Makes men forget all trace of past. My name May live — Giotto. Forever, Dante I Dante. Ay, Perchance as poet, that one reads in shade To carefully replace on silent shelf. For moths to flirt with and the dust caress. As man, with heart to bleed, who'll think of me? A shade 'mid shadows are we at our best Living or dead but shadows in the sun I Giotto. Thy shadow lengthens o'er all Italy! Bethink thee, friend, thou must exert thy power And sway the masses from thine exile roost. Dante. How will a waiting crowd afar be moved When men beside me fail to mark my words? Can Grande feared for private ends to join The Imperial party, hence these petty feuds i6o Dante Act IV Still harass Italy since Henry's death. We need one sovereign hand to dominate These countless factions, striving each to rule. \_Noise of Idughing and talking is heard.'] I hear the buzzing of the courtly gnats; Stave off their Irksome presence, If thou canst. The scented twilight lures me to the garden, When dripping wax and torches light these halls, A myriad of fire-flies will flash their sparks Against the darkening pines, In rivalry Of winking stars that gem the blue above. So let the sunset deepen Into night, Without my wearied presence at the Court. Giotto. Thy wishes, Dante, are commands to me. [Dante thanks Giotto with a gesture and goes into the gar dent by the steps.] [Enter Pages and Courtiers, followed by DiNO Brunini and Retainers.] A Page. A messenger for Dante Alllghlerl I DiNO. [To Giotto.] So, Ser, we meet again. Giotto. As much good friends As when we parted. Scene II Dante i6i DiNO. Ser, I cry thee quits; The friendship was of thy conceiving then. For merrily your tongue wagged with your brush When limning Dante's features, and abuse Was e'er my portion. Giotto. I knew thee craven, Siding with Dante's enemies, and time Hath justified my scornful words to thee. Thou'st favored puddings more than politics, And wine and wenches more than Pater- nosters And daily Aves learnt in thy damned creed. DiNO. The artist's angered. Body o' Bacchus, Ser, Thou art but quicksand of false pride — pitfall Of seething passions; prickly hedge of tem- pers! Jester. 'Tis sweet to note these doting doves con- verse I Giotto. What IS thy errand here, Ser Dino? speaK. DiNO. I bring from Florence message unto Dante. 1 62 Dante Act IV Giotto. I put no credence in such embassy. DiNO. All prejudice, good neighbor — prejudice. Giotto. Nay, libertines and cowards suit me not. Ding. [^Restraining his ire.] Not when the liberty of libertines And coward's courage can send Dante home? [Hands papers to GlOTTC] Jester. [While Giotto is reading.] How warring spirits love to shave their souls Tin not one hair of conscience bristles still; And petty virtues harbor greatest vices. Commend me to the knight who laughs the best. DiNO. Then Fm thy model ; fighting charms me not. Nor politics, nor all that furrows brows; Nor wasting wars; nor turbulence that mars Our pleastant pastimes, stunting crops and vintage. Security's round paunch beseems me more Than pale anxiety's lean shank. Jester. Why then Dost thou embark upon an embassy? Scene II DaNTE 1 63 DiNO. I like the sights at stranger courts; to learn A newer mode of jerkin's cut; fresh gossip. And maids and matrons smile the same abroad As wenches do at home. Jester. ThouVt a proper man — DiNO. [To Giotto^ who is standing apart meditating.'] Well, shall I send for leech to loose thy tongue ? Giotto. So light thy words, they scarce the atmosphere Did stir; so weighty all my thoughts. DiNO. Come, come, I'll share them. Giotto. Thou! Can toads fly? DiNO. Ay, In a shower. Giotto. The witchcraft landed them in air To pitch them back Into their proper puddles. No wings bore such from earth. Can thy thoughts fly? 164 Dante Act IV DiNO. Ay, to my dinner. Giotto. Then fly thou with them. DiNO. [Aside:] What gentle wit; what dainty courtesy; I love that man — to canonizing him. [Aloud,'] Give me the papers ; I must to the Prince. Giotto. As all thy friends are Dante's enemies, He'll place small faith in thee as messenger. DiNO. [Changing his tone.] Then Dante may in exile end his days. Come, let our hands now meet In friendly grasp. If we seek exercise for hip and heel, Let's weary limbs to lightsome tune and verse. Instead of clashing steel, try Ridda's maze.* Giotto. 'TIs well for those who stay at home to cry * Dance, dance; shake merry tambourine aloft, And clasp glad castanets ' ; but what of those Who wend their halting steps abroad from Florence ? ♦The Ridda was an old dance with song. Scene II Dante 165 I win to Dante, and impart thy news. [Exit to garden.] DiNO. [To a Courtier.] When does the Prince return? First Courtier. We wait him daily. Second Courtier. See, the Princess comes to hear thy embassy. [Enter Giovanna D'Antiochia and Ladies.] Jester. Way for the Princess! Now is thy time, DIno! DiNO. Pray Fortune's Wheel play me no trick, and drag Me smiling 'neath her rim to leave me powder. Jester. Then mount it, man; be off and grab the spokes. DiNO. [Advancing,'] Most gracious Princess, I • Jester. [Interrupting.] Ho, seize him as a traitor I Princess. As traitor, why? 1 66 Dante ActlFs Jester. No true man he, madonna. DiNO. For shame I Jester. For truth I Fd rather cry, good DIno : So well equipped; not e'en a hole upon him; No rag nor tatter from his crown to sole. Thus playing gallant, he is still a beggar. DiNO. That here I stand a beggar, is a fact: This my petition; this I beg thee read I [Hands paper to Princess.] Princess. We bid thee welcome to the Court, Brunlnl I [Looks at paper.] From Florence — about our poet? Where is Dante? Jester. In hell or purgatory. There he sups. [All laugh.] And spends the nights, too, when the fit's upon him. Dino. I come from Rome as well as Florence. The Pope Would gladly reconcile contending feuds. Scene II Dante 167 Princess. That's dIfEcult. DiNO. But Mother Church ignores It's difficult. Princess. Unto the Church we bow Trusting her keener judgment will spy out Solution where our poorer sight has failed. Thus, full of plans, thou layest pleading hand On papal skirt. But peace — not war — thy theme? DiNO. Peace with our foes, who might become our friends. When Emperor Henry died, the Bianchi Lost all their hope. The Neri, now in power, Proclaim to exiles pardon, if they will Perform due penance. Princess. And will the haughty Dante Brook these measures? His pride grows with his years. His pride will ne'er wear out till torn by death. [Turning to Page.] 1 68 Dante Act IV Haste thou to him, and say we wait him here. [Exit Page.] Jester. Why's death more philosophical than Dante ? Princess. Say on. Jester. He sings of Heaven and Hell, while death Sends thee to one or th'other. Princess. Thou art starving, So lean thy wit. Go get thee dinner, fool. Jester. * Shall I then feed on Dante's pile of bones? Princess. Beware ! Thou'lt breed contention from those bones. Jester. I'd rather pick a bone than quarrel with thee. Crowned fools are ever enemies to dread. A Page. Here Dante comes, as sober as a night owl. [Enter Dante, walking slowly. Cour- tiers how before him with mock cere- mony.] *Vide Appendix. Scene II Dante 169 Jester. [To Dante.] Has hell's breath singed thy black locks to a crisp ? A Youth. Purgatory's diet has left him pale. A Page. Good Ser, wilt let us take a jaunt with thee When wandering Into the nether world? Second Page. Mayhap he'd drop thee straight into the Styx. A Maiden. Dante, what didst thou find on reaching Hell? [Dante advances. The Jester, behind him, imitates his walk. Seeing DiNO, Dante starts and stands still. Jester recedes in the crowd.'] [There is a pause,"] Princess. [Turning, and seeing Dante.] Ah, Dante ! News — ay, news for thee from Florence I She offers thee the freedom of her gates; Recalls the exiles. Read, and prove my words. [Gives paper to Dante.] There's trivial fine to pay, and but slight penance. lyo Dante 'Act IF Dante. To pay one copper's value of this fine Would mean the worth of conscience. Fined? For what? Through weary years of exile, clean I've kept Mine honor. Ye, who brought this message, go— Tell knaves who sent It here that not till Flor- ence Wide opens gates to me with loyal welcome, Acknowledging the gross Injustice done. Will she within her walls behold me more. Princess. Bethink thee twice before thou dost refuse. Dante. To end my exile with disgraceful act, With penance, fine ! 'Mid pardoned convicts stand On Saint John's festival, within the church, The penitential candle in my hand! Have rites and gifts restore my townsman- ship! * Three lustres of an exile borne, should I — * I, Dante Allighieri, so return? * Does innocence deserve crime's punishment? * Shall I, housemate of pure philosophy. Scene II Dante 171 * Be offered up like idle school boy bound? The time was when I swayed the people's voice : In truth, I said: ' If I here sit, who stirs? If forth I go, who stays?' But now few care Whither I wend my steps. Ingratitude Is freezing life-blood in my townsmen's veins. DiNO. Does hate, then, cancel all thy love for Flor- ence? Dante. Nor flood, nor flame could cancel love like mine! The City's roughest stones are jewels to me, And though my bones may lie in exile's grave, My soul's not banished. Florence Is part of me, And I of her; and linked our fame or shame. DiNO. [Aside.] The links, methlnks, do gape a bit apart. [The Jester has been pulling the Prin- cess's sleeve.l * Dante's Epistle. 172 Dante ^ActlV. Princess. Here has the fool been plucking at my sleeve : Speak out thy message unto Florence, fool I Jester. Tell her, though Dante gives In name, in nature Forgiving Is he not; and though enduring, Through fontal vows, through exile he is never. [All laugh."] Princess. My wonder Is such fool can win applause Of all the Court, while thou, so wise, dost fail. Dante. Thy wonder dies, didst thou but know this truth — ! Similitude of taste gives friendship birth. Princess. Keep to thy poet's province. Thou art not worth Thy salt as jester. [Dante starts to retort, Giotto restrains him.] Giotto. [Aside to Dante.] The ass sticks out of lion's hide on DIno, As sting of bee lurks In Glovanna's honey. Up, Dante, up; discomfit all thy foes; Scene II Dante 173 Unleash the panting dogs of thy proud mind, And hound these Idle mockers to a bog, Where they will flounder with their sophis- tries. Though thou art poet banished, still thou'rt man. Princess. Still obdurate, wise Dante? Giotto. I read No In every line and wrinkle on his brow. Princess. Unbend thy dignity. Accept these terms. Dante. Here is my answer. {He tears the paper to shreds,^ Princess. [To Dino.] Then thy mission ends. Dino. I crave a private hearing with our poet. I have much for his ear alone. Princess. Ye can Withdraw and season with your oil and vlne- ^ gar This salad embassy. [Giotto lingers a little apart near the cur- 174 Dante Act IV tained alcove, into which Dante retires with DiNO.] Dante. Out with the motive of thy coming — haste! DiNO. Thou hast a daughter, Dante — young and fair; Hast thought of wedding her? Dante. I'd rather light Her funeral pyre than wedding torch. Dino. She's grown The prettiest wench alive. To see her pass On way to church, Invites a man to prayer. There Is a breath of spring about the girl That rouses freshness In the dullest blood. Ay, Dante; by my troth, I'd wed her fairly. Dante. Thou! Thoul Dino, Give her to me, I'll promise thee Full pardon- swift return to Florence. Dante. Wretch 1 Out of my sight — my reach! before these hands, Spite thy white hairs, to silence strangle thee, Scene II Dante 175 Decrepit hypocrite ! [Dante seizes him.] DiNO. [Screeching.] Help! He's killing me I [Dante thrusts him aside,] Dante. Dog I [Giotto advances.] Dino. [Staggering.] I'm mauled because I offer liberty! I'm maimed for offering Bice wedlock! Dante. [Starting after him.] Let not thy unclean lips profane a name The angels hold as sacred. Get thee gone. [Dino slinks away.] Giotto. [To Dante.] Of marriage spoke that tottering, hoary beast ! Dante. Away the recollection of this hour! Nor In the days to come shall she be wed; Another bridal Is my theme: my country's. * Console thyself, Italia, for thy spouse — * Our century's joy, thy people's glory — comes ! * He hastens to thy nuptials. Dry thy tears — * O, beautiful of the most beautiful! ♦Dante's Epistle. 176 Dante Act IV Weave wreaths and burnish gems; strew ten- der flowers Adown the paths. Bring forth the sealed wine; Spread sumptuous feast; shout out the bridal hymn ; Hang up gay banners; light the wedding torch, For Liberty will come to be thy spouse I [Giotto motions to Dante to he silent, lest he he overheard, and slowly leads him away.] DiNO. Unchanging is that poet's frozen No, I must depart, and bid ye all, farewell. Princess. Accept our hospitality to-night, Unless too gay our court festivities, For one who, Tuscan bred, may be austere. Dino. [Hurriedly.] I am a Florentine, but not a Dante; Nay, pressing matters urge me straightway home. [Dino salutes the Princess and Com- pany^ assembles his retainers and as he leaves speaks to Pante.] Scene II Dante 177 DiNO. Thy insolence, I will requite, proud poet. [Exit,'] Princess. Now for our pastimes. Wilt thou join us, Dante? Dante. The woes of bitter heart should not be bared For foes to scoff at. Silence enfolds them best. My somber presence 111 befits these halls. Filled with delight and jests. I crave in- dulgence To sit apart. [Dante withdraws behind the arras,] Princess. We will not bide his pleasure: So, friends, proceed to trip the jaunty measure. Jester. [Singing] Let's shake the walls with our wild jests and laughter; In youth let's lusty be, and burled after; So hang up the lance Live, quaff, sing and dance, And love, love, love till the crack of doom, 0! [Dances,'^ 178 Dante Act IV Princess. Well jumped, my nimble Jack. There's for thy pains. \^Gives ring.'] Now, ladles, shall we tread a lively measure? [Music begins, and Princess and Ladies dance with CouRTlERS. Noise is heard outside. The music breaks of amid cries — ] Dan Giovanni to me! Slay the villains, slay I \_The court rush to the doors and windows.'] Nobles and Ladies. A rescue! A rescue! The Pilgrims come! \Noise continues outside,] [Uberto rushes in, his monk^s hood thrown aside, and carrying Beatrice Allighieri fainting in his arms,] Princess. What means this turmoil ? Uberto. Treachery, great Princess ! We claim protection for our little band, And justice for the lawless knaves without W^ho tried to abduct this gracious lady, ^Enter Francesca, and others,] Scene II Dante 179 Princess. This Court shall shelter her, ne'er fear I \_Loud cries outside.'] Ho, there I Seize every man who lurks without these walls I [Soldiers who have come in from the left, rush out again by the door through which Uberto Dal Colle entered,] Dante. [Entering hurriedly,] I heard a cry of Florentine for help. Bice. [Recovering.] O father I father I Dante. Beatrice here! [They embrace,] Francesca. Yea, take her to thy heart. There is her haven. We fled from Florence. Evil eyes had spied Her loveliness. Let once the vulture look Upon the dove, she's lost unless her wings Waft her beyond his cruel ken. Dante. My Bice! Great love did move thy weakness to fare forth, i8o Dante Act IV Tempting the untried terrors of the road. Francesca ! friend of happier days, thrice wel- come! Francesca. And here's a loyal knight who served us well. \^}ie indicates her brother Uberto.] Dante. \To Uberto.] The stripling has, at last, then, grown to man; A sound, strong branch, upon a rotten tree, Hath put forth leaves. Uberto. I'll die for thee ! Dante. Uberto's voice has still the old ring in it. Uberto. Uberto's heart has still the old love In it. Dante. O exile, from the depths of Mara wells Some drops of sweetness mingle with thy gall ! How womanly my Beatrice grows — But yesterday she seemed a timid child. \To Francesca, watching Bice greeted hy Princess.] Francesca. Our Southern sun warms swiftly buds to blos- som. Scene II Dante i8i \_Great commotion outside. Enter soldiers and Pilgrims, with DiNO and his men, guarded,"] Princess. Thus do false Florentines betray their own I Behold a guest, scarce parted from his host, Swoops down upon a band of holy pilgrims I Uberto. But found that some monks' frocks hide coats of mail. Princess. Stand forth, and let thy townsmen see thy face. [DiNO is dragged forward before the Court.'] Dante. [^Springing toward him.] Thou miserable cur — skulking in shadow, To do the deeds that sunshine execrates. Uberto. [Drawing sword and rushing toward DiNO.] So thou, the lying knave hiding in darkness, Now, in the light, defend thyself to death I [DiNO shrinks from them.] Princess. Hold, Messers, hold I and fight without this Court. iSz Dante Act IV [A courtier draws Uberto back.] [Dante disarms DiNO and flings him across the room,] Dante. 1*11 not soil hands with hoary sinner's blood, But let him keep that mystic bauble life — The crystal ball, wherein the angels watch Men's good and evil deeds. These moving scenes Will soon slip from this aged jackal's hand. Princess. [Turning to Dino.] Lest that our Ire at this treachery Send thee to hell, without a priest or shrift, Betake thee hence In haste, Ser DIno — ^Go I [In the lull, DiNo's men rush him out, causing mur^nurs in the Court, hut the hand is allowed to depart.] Princess. [To Pilgrims.] Lay every staff aside to-night. To-morrow Resume your saintly pilgrimage, refreshed, Leaving with us your gracious benediction For our most willing hospitality. [Turning to Francesca and Bice.] Fair ladles, you are welcome to our Court, Long may you tarry to delight our eyes. Anon we wait you at the festive board. Scene II Dante I §3 [She salutes ladies , Dante and Uberto, then goes out with courtiers and pil- grims. Dante is left alone with Bice, Francesca, Uberto and Giotto.] Francesca. Now for thy news. Dante, we long to hear Of all thou sawest In thy varied travels. Bice. Our thoughts have pictured thee these weary months In many places and In varied moods. O, let us know how near the truth we drew. Dante. Through our loved land I wandered, passed to Paris; Sitting on straw, and drinking learning In, I heard bold lectures from the sage SIgier. Or, rambling near the Seine, marked the sad house Where Abelard fair Heloise once taught Latin and Love together — beginning life More than a monk, to end more monk than man, While she a cloistered lifetime spent to rue A few wild days of passioned love and youth ; Then sailed to white-cllffed Isle where Ed- ward reigns, — 1 84 Dante 'Act IV Son of the Longshanga of adventurous fame, Tarried In London by the lordly Thames, Touched Oxford^s hallowed ground, where once of yore Great Alfred widely lit that little spark To fire some centuries of learning — saw The state of University's great hall, Which Durham's will did well endow, and Ballol, Founded by Scottish king; I saw the house Where dwell the Merton scholars, which the wise Walter de Merton once from Maiden moved To Oxford; viewed fair lands and strong hewn castles. The gentle hills, deep vales and yielding soil. The strong-limbed race that fills this teeming isle. And marked the blue waves beating watch and ward Around this sturdier Venus of the sea; Retraced my steps with longing infinite, To find my Florence still porte close to me I My people — O, what have I done to thee * That thus in exile I must weep my days? Since then life is to me but empty shell, ♦Dante's Epistle. Scene II Dante 185 From which, crab-like, I'vt crawled to lose myself In ocean of a sorrow infinite — Francesca. Rude Fate, with grimmest deeds of blood Hath thrown a haze of red on our horizon; But think thou of our joyous youth, when Guido And Marco jested with la Primavera As e'er we called fair Vanna, and of glad days We passed in Portinari's scented alleys. Dante. Ah, how thy words recall the time when youth Was hot upon me, and life full of love. To some Love dancing comes, all roseate crowned Holding to lips his nectar sparkling cup; To me he tendered poison-draught to drain. At times he speeds in golden sheen — a Fay Strewing man's pathway with most precious gifts, Anon he crawls to hearts as subtle snake; There fastening fangs, feeds to satiety. So Love stole to my boyish breast ; I was No infant Hercules to strangle it. 1 86 Dante Act IV Giotto. {Seating himself near Dante.] As ever, joy and grief divide the honors As hosts at our life's feasts, and we poor guests Still vainly scramble for the higher seats. Dante. The higher seats to-day are filled with rogues : Corso enthroned in Florence — Francesca. Nay, he's food For worms — killed while trying to slay Uberto. Dante. Dead! and all his vast ambition shrouded In the gravel He was a foe most bitter But brave. That cancels many sins in men. So round the whirling wheels of Fate's proud car Levelling out lives, like daisies trodden down 'Neath chargers' hoof; philosophy 'lone mounts To driver's seat, but drops the reins in haste When death cries * halt ' I Ay, all obey that voice [Whose tones re-echo through all Nature's gamut. The proudest pine decays and drops to dust, Scene II Dante 187 As doth the lowliest weed. So fade the flow- ers, So cease the blithest songs, so droop strong wings That clove the liquid blue of yon fair skies. Yet, from these ends arise yet fresher lives. Spring's teeming soil demands last Autumn's dead. So Nature turns her shrouds to swaddling bands And lets the spirit of her being revive In newer songs, and sweeter sights and scents, Bearing them through, on to Eternity. And so man dies I his dust feeds future flow- ers, While golden thoughts, and glowing words and deeds. Like tapers priests have blest around a tomb. Illume his grave, and shed a radiance o'er His name's short day, serving to light the path Of those close following. Man dies to live ! O, death from life? O, life from death! The mind Of minds, alone this mystery reveals I [Dante sits absorbed, his head resting on 1 8 8' Dante Act IV his hand, then takes up tablets and writes,'] Francesca. {To Giotto.] There come the tablets ; this mighty poem Fills me with awe unspeakable; if impious What vengeance may not Heaven deal to Dante I Giotto. Ne'er fear, posterity will glory in his name. Francesca. Mark how his brow is knit; how strange his smile I To this abstraction he was ever prone. Once, gone to watch the gayest sight in Flor- ence, Pedestrians, singers, gorgeous cavaliers, Rose-strewing children In a glittering throng. That wound its shining stream-like way through squares And narrow streets, he stood within a shop Whose only wares were books. As the pro- cession Neared to the door, our poet spied a pamphlet Unread by him. He seized it; lost in thought, Read on, nor laid it from his hand till show Scene II Dante 189 Was past and gone. The shouting crowd, the banners, The splendid train of horse and men, unseen, Unheard, unthought of by the dreamer Dante.* [They converse apart.] [Beatrice and Uberto come down to- gether.] Uberto. Didst miss me, Bice? Bice. While in the convent, I missed all my friends. Life's dull without home ties. Uberto. Nor hast forgot our merry games? Bice. No, no. [They have crossed to the steps leading to the garden, and pause near a bench on which lie halls and games. Uberto throws her a hall.] Uberto. Come, catch it, Bice, as once thou didst *Vide Dante's Life. TQO Dante Act IV, [Bice lets the hall pass by. It rolls away down the steps. "] Bice. We played ball at the convent — not with boys. Uberto. I am now a man. Bice. Not man like Giotto. Uberto. I would not be as grave as he. I love To laugh and sing — lie in the grass and dream, Save when I wear a sword to shield my lady. Bice. See how thy ball has hopped down all the steps I Uberto. Anon I'll seek It. Come and sit awhile, And talk to me as thou didst when a child. [Bice breaks of some flowers from a rose-pot and holds them out to him. He stretches out on a stone bench near her, his chin resting in his palms.] BiciJ. These roses for a wreath — Uberto. [Taking some.] To crown thee, Bice ? Scene II Dante 191 There was a flower game that pleased thee once, How ran the rhyme? *One rose for each fair cheek?' Bice. [Correcting.l ^ For each soft cheek a rose — ' [Uberto leans forward and touches a rose to each of her cheeks.] Bice. [Continuing.] * Ten wreaths her golden hair — ' [Uberto, half-kneeling on the bench, puts on her head the wreath they have been weaving.] * One for her forehead fair — ' [Uberto touches a rose to her forehead.] Bice. * And two her lips to close — ' [As Bice says the last line, Uberto touches her lips with a rose, and, doing so, kisses her on the lips. BiCE starts up^ dropping the flowers, and moves away, Uberto, seeing her troubled look, foU lows.] Uberto. [Calling after her.] Bice — Madonna Bice! [He overtakes her and they walk away in the garden.] 192^ Dante Act IV Giotto. [Looking at Dante.] Dante's a dreamer, and we but shadows In his dreams! This angers Gemma; She mourns her lot. Francesca. The great must have their foibles ; And faults In husbands, when we love, turn virtues; And patience is best coral to cut teeth on; 'TIs the Credo, Ave and Paternoster Of honest woman's household life — with love Walks patience, hand In hand, till sweet Is service That else would grow past bearing In our lives. My faith was orthodox In two beliefs; My God and Marco. They held my hell and heaven. \Enter Beppo, an old servant of Dal COLLE ; he had been with DiNO^s retain- ers. He is evidently drunk, and tries to steal quietly into the hall, but stumbles over a bench.] Giotto. [Starting up.] Who's this? Beppo. [Bowing and stumbling.] Beppo — good Ser — only poor Beppo. Scene II Dante 193 Francesca. He was my father's man — and now serves Dino. What brings thee? Beppo. Requital for my service. Dante. [Laying aside script, joins Giotto and Francesca.] What services ? Doth spy for DIno ? Speak I Plots, counter-plots are In the air. Deceits Are current coin to-day, to pay all scores. Beppo. Whispers, and elbow jogglngs, and sly winks, Are ammunition wasted on myself. Dal Colle's hints hit but a hard cuirass; \He strikes his breast in a drunken man- ner, 1 Have I not heard the * Cause ' [He laughs drunkenly.] these fifteen years — For what? Ay, tell me that. Thou needst not stare — - The truth will out, Ser poet. Dante. [Aside to Giotto.] What meaneth he? 194 Dante Act IV Giotto. [Aside to Dante.] The knave knoweth truly more than suits his masters. Beppo. By the Rood IVe waited, moon in, moon out. I'll wait no more. My silence should be paid, And services. [Hiccoughs,'] Can they count it my fault That plans so neatly laid, have borne no fruit? Dante. What scandal lurks beneath these words? Speak out! Better to die through knowledge than to live Half-dead with dread suspicion. Speak, knave I Beppo. [Looking up and talking at them again.] I need reward for wedding thee to Gemma 1 [Dante starts.] If watchful spy, I had not played for them On that eventful San Giovanni's Day When Beatrice died — ■ Dante. Withhold that namel Scene II Dante 195 Beppo. And spread reports of Corso's cruelty, iTo win for her thy pity. She was apt. [And wept and fainted when we told her to — r Dante. Stay ! Give me time to grasp this villainy I Giotto. [To Beppo.] Thou drunken fool, hie hence. Thy speech betrays Too brutal scheme for honest men to stom- ach! Beppo. Dal Colle's dead, and DIno swore to-night He needs no gray-beards In his service now. By San Michele, I have earned my wage — Giotto. Then go to them who made thee play the spy. [He pushes Beppo off through the en- trance.'] Dante. The sister false, like brother — false to me I Dal Colle, Corso, DIno — ay — and Gemma — Weaving a web to tangle me therein, To wed me to another while my lady 196 Dante Act IV Still was mine. And all these years I nursed a He — !A. living lie — warm sheltered in my arms ! Giotto. This tale thou must not take so much to heart. Madonna Gemma's love for thee was great, They used her as a tool to serve their ends. Francesca. [Who has been near the garden steps y joins Dante.] Dante, what moves thee so? Dante. A He — not new To thee; one thou hast hidden in thy heart Full sixteen years. Francesca. A lie? What lie? Dante. Thou wert In league with Corso, Dino and Dal Colle, And planned to force me into wedding Gemma. Francesca. O Dante! She loved thee! Dante. I know at last That Corso's anger was but feigned to rouse My pity tin I wed her. Scene II Dante 197 Francesca. She loved thee I Dante. Her cries, her swoons, were mummeries well learnt. Francesca. She loved thee, Dante, and she loves thee still. Dante. Thou calPst It love. No love's born of dis- honor. She IS my children's mother; for their sakes No public scandal shall attack her name. But that she did deceive me, fills my soul With scorn unutterable for herself. Henceforth we tread our ways apart. Francesca. O, let her youthful passion plead for her! How could a girl, scarce from her mother's side Define the boundaries of so-called honor! She loved! — and strove to win the man she loved, Though subterfuge might mingle with her truth. Unconscious ill was good, the clay with gold. Yet it behooves thee, being great, to look 198 Dante Act IV With gentleness on others' sins. Thy heights Most erring souls could never reach I For- give! For dear love's sake, I dare not harbor wrath. \_Paiise, Giotto, who has been watching to see if Beppo has left, rejoins them. Bice appears from garden.] Bice. Dear father, come and roam this beauteous garden. No pleasure is joy to me, unshared by thee. Dante. Thou art most duteous daughter, and thy love Illumines many shadowy nooks in life. Bice. My duty twins it with my love. I pity Thy foes for losing joy of loving Dante. Dante. Thy fondness overleaps the truth, my Bice, As when a prattling babe thou'dst climb my knee. And with big kisses vow I was more dear Than doll or sugar lamb. My pretty bird, I missed thy cheery chirpings round my chair. The years we lent thee to the holy sisters. Bice. So said Uberto — that he missed me much. Scene II Dante 199 Dante. [Startled.] And thou missed him? Bice. I missed all those I loved. Dante. Thou lovest, then, the young Dal CoUe ? Bice. Why should I not ? He hath a loyal heart, Is handsome, brave, and yet, withal, so gentle. Dante. Are not the other youths as well equipped? Bice. Ah, none can equal him. So high he stands In my esteem. Dante. As high as thou holdest me? Bice. As high, yet not the same. Thou art my father; I owe thee life, and all the days my duty. Dante. Dear child, Uberto is a merry friend. Methinks he's loyal, but his youth still waits Upon a tested manhood, and he's son Of one who was my bitter enemy. My daughter could ne'er wed Dal Colle's child. 200 Dante Act IV Sooner I'd have thee end thy days a nun. Nay, nay. Droop not thy pretty head. All life Awaits thee ! Thy imperious youth may win High rank as well as honest heart for spouse. Bice. A clown, o*er black bread and goat's cheese can gladden The heart of wife beloved, more than a knight Can cheer his lady o'er red Vernaccia, Should she, alas, no longer worship him. Dante. Worship Is for the saints — not men, dear dilld. What ! tears ! — tears for a boy thou'st scarcely seen Since childish days? Nay, dry thine eyes, my Bice. [Dante kisses Bice and turns to Fran- CESCA and GiOTTO. They cross to the alcove and pass behind the arras, Fran- CESCA, about to join BiCE, sees her brother returning from the garden. She waves her hand to him, pointing to BiCE. Pause.] [BiCE looks slowly around. The sun is setting.] Scene II Dante 20 i Bice. Such glorious sunshine close within my reach, Such heavy shadows close about me fall, Such joy and lightness In the scented air. Such numbing pain and darkness In my heart I The sunset of my love Is nearing me. Uberto. Alone, Madonna Bice, and so wistful? Bice. Uberto, wilt grant me favor? Uberto. Ay, 'tis thine Ere asked. Bice. 'TIs a message to be safe delivered. Uberto. Entrust It me. Though words to seal my doom. They're said. Bice. My message is to Heaven. V Uberto. rd die To take It; but, through sins, my soul might slip Into the shades of nether world Instead. 202 Dante 'ActlV^ Bice. There Is no need to bend thy life, but knee. And pur a prayer into the Eternal Ear, To our Creator, Judge, and Savior pray, He re-create, and judge and save our Flor- ence, Pouring His balm of mercy in our wounds Of civil discord, till the olive thrives, In place of blood-stained laurels; and pray, Uberto, For strength to guide thee through these troubled times. And add a prayer for me — •- Uberto. Thy gentle words, Madonna, fall upon my waiting heart. As seed in Springtime from the sower's hands. Falls on the furrowed ground; from my heart's soul. Inspired by thy virtues, shall spring up A living crop of holy thoughts and deeds, Due to thy sowing. Bice. O, may the angels' hands Reap close thy crop for God's own harvest- ing! Scene II Dante 203 Uberto. I'll pray for Florence, and for guilty self; But for thy own pure soul, Madonna, prayers Need but to rise as sweetest benedictions. Bice. Do women need less help by prayer than men? Have we no thorns to tread beneath our feet, Nor fiery paths to singe our fragile garments? Uberto. We men have more temptations than ye maids; We're formed of coarser clay. Bice. Yet are ye formed In God's own type, and must ye then drag that Such sacred semblance down into the dust? Let likeness of a God He In the mire? Man should be chaste as woman; sin Is sin. Thy stronger nature should uplift thee from The swinish pleasures of an earthly sty, From sloth and gluttony, lust, heated cups. And all the miraged joys of fallen minds. If woman strive as virgin, wife and mother To humbly follow Mary's holy life. Thou hast still higher type, as man. In Christ, To preach thee p^fect love of purity. 204 Dante 'Act IVi Uberto. If worldly men would think such thoughts as thine, Living them out in simple, daily deeds. Life's byways would smell sweet with blos- soms dropt From Heaven, 'stead reeking of Ill-savored weeds That sprout from Hell. Though 'tis not meet for knight To vaunt his merits to his lady's face, Yet I can say our race was never prone To gross delight In sottish pleasuring. Bice. I know thee pure, and call thee, therefore, friend; Thy fault is rather pride, with all Its vices. Uberto. Blue blood must needs run proudly through our veins. Bicfi. And why? Thy birth, wealth, talents — all are gifts From God. As such they should be humbly held. My soul in secret oft hath likened thee Scene II Dante 205 To truest knight of brave King Arthur's Court, Who sought the Holy Grail. Be thou like him, As humble and as pure, and let thy pride Live only In good deeds, so I In faith Can call thee e'er my true Sir Galahad. Uberto. Thine, didst thou say? Would I in truth were thine! O Beatrice ! Well thou know'st my love. Bice. And thou wouldst call me wife? Uberto. If thou wilt stoop To earthly bliss of wedlock with myself, Most wisely hast thou read my thoughts, sweet Sybil. It needs no skill In keen Cumaean craft To sift the meaning from thy garnered thoughts; No honest man doth say unto pure maid * I love thee,* save he wills his passion change Her life's fresh tints to richer, deeper dye. Her virgin freedom narrowing to fit A golden circlet, a tiny talisman That holds in trifling space sweet love enow 2o6 Dante 'Act IV, To fill a world with Heaven^s own joy and peace. And shall my love not win response from thine ? Bice. No blush of shame dusks cheek to own my love, No passion pales my maiden hue to feel It; I love thee without thought of shame or pas- sion. Uberto. Dear lips, O, say those words of life again! Bice. I love thee, but I ne'er can be thy wife. Uberto. O Bice, waft me not upon thy love To Heaven; then dash me down to Hell again I Bice. No hand of mine can ever lie in thine. If Fate had willed to me a happier lot, As I do love thee, I had been thy wife. Uberto. Say not * had ' ; give me a grain of hope ! Though small as millet seed hid In thy heart, 'Twill grow till It can fill love's granary. Scene II Dante 207 Bice. If thou lightest love with hope, thy fuePs soon spent; I love thee freely without hope or fear, But, after God, I owe my father life: He wills I take the veil ; I must obey. But all my prayers and thoughts and love are thine: Havened above the stars at Mary's feet, There lies my love for thee eternally. Uberto. I can not throw aside a heaven on earth For others' whims, nor sighing let thee pass A saintly shadow o'er my path, while life Hot leaping through my veins, still lends a chance 'Of winning Beatrice for my bride. [Sounds of rejoicing heard outside. Enter soldiers, courtiers, ladies, pages, GlO- VANNA, Can Grande and Jester.] Jester. Room for the fool who fights for neighbors' quarrels I Giovanna. Room for the victor proudly coming home I 2o8 Dante Act IV [Francesca has rejoined BiCE. GlO- VANNA turns to them, taking each by the hand.] GiovANNA. [To Can Grande.] This saintly maid Is Bice, Dante's daughter; This sad-eyed matron Marco Nerli's widow. Can Grande. Most welcome to our court, fair Florentines. [Giotto and Uberto approach Can Grande as courtiers surround him and offer congratulations,] A' Noble. [Aside to another.] Can Grande's sated with his victories, But his erst friend, our sombre guest and poet, Refrains from lauding these fine martial feats. Second Noble. Dante had hoped the Prince could push to Rome, To weld with Emperor a Caesar's reign. Can Grande. [To Giotto.] A likely youth, Uberto; he can stay If so he wills, and stretch our hospitality. [Looking round.] No greetings frprn pur poet? How is this? Scene II Dante 209 Jester. He's wedged in Ice he says awaits in Hell, So frozen e'en hell's fires melt him not. [Dante has come from the alcove and joined BiCE and FranCESCA.] Can Grande. [Loudly.'] Durante Allighlerl has grown dumb, No word of welcome greets his host's return. Dante. Why waste in feuds, O Prince, the strength God gives? 'Tis for our country's general weal — not For fighting quarrelsome neighbors when they fail To observe some trivial courtesy our due. Can Grande. Hear Dante preaching humbleness, not pride. Rank has Its dues, these should be fully paid. Dante. Proud lives of daring deeds bespeak our praise, But we are apt to lavish It on men Who should claim none. Why must we bow the knee To some old noble's son because he bears His father's name,* unless with noble rank *Vide Dante's Life and iWorks. '210 Dante Act IV, The youth inherits virtues of his sire? Noble he's not, and no ancestral coffers Should be deemed his. How rarely human worth Climbs topmost branch of genealogic tree I Nobility, in its true essence lives Alone in virtue, valor, art and genius. Jester. Our Prince's triumphs are not valor then? Dante. Such triumphs may yet prove our land's de- feat. And stifle in men's souls their freedom's growth. While foreign powers tread upon our heels, Each state is clamoring for supremacy. If Italy still fears to stand alone Amid the conclave of the mighty nations. Let one wise ruler gather in his hands The reins of government and be our head Till we have learnt to blend our private aims In one harmonious whole. Then shall we rear Our crest as high as any in the world ! Can Grande. As Vicar-General shall I then not Scene II Dante 2 1 1 Speak out my views, enforcing them with sword? Keep to thy dreams of Heaven and Hell, but spare Thy patrons sermons they need not! My weal Demands my care as much as others' woes. Dante. [Passionately.] Away with selfish thoughts of thine own good! A patriot first should serve his country's ends, Had I ten lives to spend I'd lay them down At my beloved country's feet, as Mary Of Magdala anointed feet of Christ. Can Grande. [With anger.] O, thou hast chosen well thy time to rail At those who sit in power while thou art but An exile lacking even fighting varlets, To do thy bidding on thy enemies ! Dante. Thou speakest as a soldier, the prose of arms; My power needs not the blood of war for growth, 'Tis greater than clash of sword and breath of kings. God's finger has lain lightly on my lips. The songs I sing, the sermons that I preach 212^ Dante Act IV Will help to bind my bleeding country's wounds And shape to Unity our Italy. Can Grande. Would Papal power approve of such a scheme ? Dante. Let Popes look to our souls; but purse and sword Should fill, unfill, rust, shine, without their care. Can Grande. Be cautious, Dante, for thy speech begins To touch on heresy. Dante. In faith, Can Grande, Rank heresy lurks more In ears than tongue. Can Grande. Then let's hear less; but come, we'll break our fast. [A feast has been prepared. It is dark and torches have been brought in. The court ladies have robed Bice and Fran- CESCA in rich mantles and put wreaths on their heads.'\ Dante. With meals to silence conscience, ay, how oft Scene II Dante 213 A stomach, newly filled, will prove ally To sins the self-Indulgent Imp within Had futllely suggested while we starved. [The courtiers and ladles and Can Grande, Giovanna D'Antiochia atid guests seat themselves. Music is played then.] Song Sung by Several Guests Drink! To Mars, the God of War and Blood I High to him in ruby flood! To the brink Of goblet gold with sapphires gemmed Fill ! Let not a drop escape. Offer him the blood of grape. Mars! We drink! Drink! To Venus, fairest Goddess found, Braced in Beauty, cestus-bound. Goblets chink To floating hair and open lids, To marble limbs no vestments drape; Offer her the blood of grape. Venus ! Drink ! 214 Dante Act IV Drink! To Pluto, for our passions' fire Is his, and that mad wine's Inspire. To the brink Fill high to God of lowest Hell ! By fair Proserpine's rude rape, Offer him the fumes of grape. Pluto! Drink! Drink! For in the cup He Fame and Wars Mightier than the gift of Mars. Goblets chink. Drain Pluto's fire In ruddy flood, Or let the fumes with fancy shape A Venus from the amber grape. Ever Drink! Can Grande. A lordly song well sung. I drink to thee ! [Holds up his cup to one of the ladies."] Come, Uberto, leave our black-browed poet. Hath Boniface drawn up new code of morals? Come join our court; we need some younger gallant. Uberto. Great Prince — my word — my time, my thoughts, my life. Scene II DantE 215 Wait but on Dante — Him alone I'll serve — • [Dante hearing, grasps Uberto's hand,] Can Grande. Thy gravity but ill befits thy youth. But take thy will : we force no guest to feast. [He turns to the courtiers and ladies and joins in the laughter and drinking,] [Giotto, Francesca and Bice have left the others; as they join Dante, Uberto crosses to Bice.] [Uberto. [To Bice.] Has love, the plummet line of woman's heart, Not sounded thine? Has patient faith no claim? Must I still wait without a hope of thee? Bice. Can love stretch wings while round us fall Portentous shadows from my father's grief? Uberto. Love lifts all shadows from this earth; Its strength, its brightness emanate from heaven. Love, like the faithful widow's cruse of oil. But spends Its richness to renew Its store; Increasing power of giving by the gift. 2i6 Dante Act IV From all the wealth of love stored in thy heart, Beatrice, hast thou none for me? Bice. My love Is thine, but all my life's my father's. Uberto. On thy knees, go plead with him, my Bice. Let him but know that all our happiness Is bound up In each other's being. His love Will ne'er deny our suit. Bice. After my God, 1 owe my father duty. What he wills, I will. [Francesca joins them.] Uberto. [Turning to Francesca.] O sister, plead for me ! Francesca. [To her brother.] If thou Dost fall to move her, how can I? [Turning to BiCE.] Dear Bice, Men dare not boast the steadfastness of women ; They love through passion where we love through love, Scene II Dante 217 And when thou findest one whose manly- strength But serves to hold his passion 'neath his will, O, honor him, the length of all thy life ! Now, on my soul, I deem Uberto true, I urge thee take such gift as sent from God. [Bice holds out her hand to Uberto. He draws her slowly into his arms and embraces her. BiCE then crosses to Dante^ and sinks at his feet, Dante lovingly raises her. She whispers to him. Uberto approaches them.] Dante. Uberto, come. Most men have played me false; Some of thy kindred proved mine enemies. But thou wert ever true. To thee I trust My Beatrice — a jewel beyond all price. Once I had dreamt the blessed maid was shrined Sole sovereign virginal In poet's heart, And wished that my fair child should take the veil, Communing close to God, 'mid holy women, To keep her white cloth free from life's rough burrs. But on the tossing ocean of the world, 2i8 Dante Act IV IVe drifted on and on through lonely years; Still praying for more light, still learning lessons, And dare no longer mould men's lives to suit My will. So, as my Bice's heart is thine, Bless that dear heart with all thy love, Ubertol ' ^ Francesca. For once feuds sleep. Thy friendship, Dante, warms Like wine poured by some Ganymede for Gods. Dante. Jove's nectar from no valley wine is pressed But from the grapes that scale the highest crags, And mine I plucked while stumbling In the climb. And lifting gaze above this earthy mire. This royal roystering jars upon my ear. lYoung Delia Scala revels in his youth. So draw the arras shutting out the sound Of idle jest dropped from young scoffing lips. [Dante slowly^ returns to the alcove and closes the arras. Enter pages and DEL- EGATE frovi Bologna. He is presented to Can Grande.] Scene II Dante 219 Can Grande. [To Delegate.] And so Giovanni del VIrglllo urges That Dante wear Bologna's poet's crown? Delegate. 'Tis this honor that we tender him. Can Grande. Where roosts our owl ? Canst lure him back to us? [Addressing Jester.] Jester. [Pulling hack the arras,] See poet wrapt, oblivious of the world I [Dante is sitting in the casement writing. The Delegate and Giotto approach him.] Delegate. Greeting to thee, great Dante Alllghlerl, From thy friend Giovanni del VlrgUIo. [Hands papers to Dante. Dante rises, takes them, and glances at them.] Dante. [Coming down from the alcove.] For the kindly purport of thy coming I thank thee. O, Bologna's proffered crown Is glorious triumph for a poet's heart. But 'tis ungrateful Florence that should tend* A laurel wreath to me, her son. Again I thank thee, and the Bolognese who sought ♦Dante's Epistle. 220 Dante Act IV To crown an exiled and a saddened poet. iWhen newer kingdoms in my cantos live,* And denizens of starry spheres appear, Then garland me with Ivy and with laurel That grows within the walls of well-loved Florence. Delegate. I fear those plants have never taken root. Dante, we honor thee, whom Florence scorns. May other cities' tribute heal the wounds The ungrateful Tuscan town has given thee. Can Grande. Bethink thee, Dante, twice, ere thou refuse Bologna's crown, Dante. I need no crown, save one: Death's pall soon covers passion, pride and joy. In deep dug grave they sink to nothingness. So shovel on the Lethean earth — on all Save love, for that's entwined around our souls And wings our wistful spirits unto Heaven. Delegate. With hearty sorrow we must wend our way, Bearing thy message back to fair Bologna. * Dante's Epistle, Scene II Dante 221 that our noble town had given thee birth, So thou hadst worn the crown she offers thee ! Dante. Though Florence caused me pain, I would not change My birthright ; though her stones, like heated ploughshares Burnt flesh from off my bones, Td love her still. Nature and art have crowned her queen among The cities of our land. The day will dawn When all her bitterness toward me shall vanish: 'TIs but a breath, blown by the people's mouth, Who suck in error with their mother's milk. A purer air must fill their lungs ere long; Great drafts of freedom will transfigure Flor- ence. Her hand outstretched, she'll clasp all Italy. By then my winding sheet will be white dust. But, if my spirit can commune with earth, I'll know the tardy honors tendered me. Go tell the kindly Bolognese my message: 1 bid ye for all time. Farewell ! Farewell ! 222 Dante Act IF Delegate. Farewell I [Dante turns aside.] Can Grande. [To Delegate.] Dreaming o'er what he writes, our Dante spurns The gifts Fate offers him. But let us tend To thee our Court's glad hospitality. [The Delegate is presented to Giovanna and is served with wine. Can Grande joins them as the tables are taken out and the ladies and courtiers begin to disperse.] Can Grande. [Holding out his hand to Dante.] Thou mighty man — I hate thy scathing words, But I do love thy wondrous lore. Forgive My hasty speech. Dante. We see with different eyes. My heart still beats for thee, though sharp my tongue; But in the days to come I must live hence. The peace of the PIneta lures me there. My message to the world needs calmer hours Than thy gay court affords, Can Grande. Scene II Dante 223 GlOVANNA. Forget Thy script to-night — ' Jester. How can he when he lives For that alone ? What did'st thou find, good Ser, In thy strange wanderings entering Hell? Dante. A gate upon whose portals were these words: * Through me ye pass unto the doleful city, Through me ye enter to eternal woe. Through me ye meet the people damned and lost. 'Twas Justice moved my ancient fashioner, And Power divine created me of yore, Wisdom supreme and the first spirit of Love Before I was : naught did exist but what Eternal was; and I eternal stand. All hope abandon ye who enter here. [ The courtiers and ladies murmur.] GlOVANNA. Unless I hear gay strains to-night, no sleep Would close my eyes, since hearing these drear words. * Divina Comedia. 224 Dante 'Act IF Come, friends, let's to the garden, there the moon Will send us pleasant fancies ere we part. [The Jester starts singing and dancing, as the Court, catching the refrain, passes out with Can Grande and Delegate. A girl pelts Dante with roses and runs away laughing. GlOTTO and Fran- cesca are urged by Dante to leave him. Reluctantly, they go; last of all, Uberto and Bice, who embraces her father. 1 Bice. Uncrowned by Florence, still thou art a king, Thy kingdom widening over all the earth. I hail thee such, dear father; wear thy crown I [She takes the wreath from her head and puts it on Dante's. The torches are carried out: Dante stands meditating in the moonlight.'] Curtain ACT IV: Scene III Room in the Palace of Guido Novella di Polenta at Ravenna. Enter Giotto, Jacopo and Pietro. Giotto. Would I could veil to-day this startling truth, But still It stares me naked In the face. Jacopo. My father seems to fail through lack of spirit: This ending of Venetian embassy Much chafed him. Guldo haply thought to win Ally thereby, and check the grasping Guelphs, Whose growing power he fears, though his their party. But, dreading Papal wrath, Venezia spurned The embassy, refused to see my father. This galled his haughty soul. In vain our host Flings free his favors in our midst — In vain Uplifts Pletro and myself. Alas! Ravenna's ruler falls to ease the pain That gnaws at Dante's heart. 225 226 Dante 'Act IV PlETRO. Alone his poem So wondrously completed, comforts him. But now he mourns the loss of thirteen can- tos: This mars the triumph of his mighty work. Giotto. 'TIs strange he falls to find what his hands hid. Jacopo. The past years' storms have clouded memory. [Enter Francesca.] Giotto. Good Cesca, how doth Dante fare this mom? Francesca. He comes with Bice from the balcony. [Enter Dante leaning on Bice's arm,"] Giotto. [Greeting him.] Thou'rt pale, dear friend, and cold. Bice. Too long he lingered, Watching the upward flight of circling birds. Giotto. These early Autumn breezes blow thee harm. Dante. The fault's not in the winds — ^but me; strength fails; Scene III Dante 227 This golden month has no more golden mean. Dawns grow to morns, and they to noons, and dusks To dawns again; while creeping centuries Mark slowly time upon the eternal dial, That lasts till sets the Sun of Righteousness. As sick men preach to friends In robust health That drafts and damps bring aches and fev- ered beds, Knowing they venture naught but tested truths, lYet see their wise words fall on heedless ears. So I, who am bereft of home and honor, iWould others warn that earthly joys are shadows. But know I'd preach in vain to listless crowds. Meeting with same success as sick men's ser- mons. Giotto. This sick man's sermon we'll most gladly hear; But tell me, Dante, how to serve thee best? Dante. Fling wide the casement: let the sunshine In Until the last rays fade to sombre night. So sets my sun; so nears my night, and then All ends. 228 Dante 'Act IV Bice. [Giving Dante a cup.] Dear father, this will give thee strength. Dante. Ay, strength to meet the last of all our foes. He never falls his tryst to keep, well knowing In every struggle he still wins the day. But One alone has striven to victory; The Blessed Master conquered Death for aye. Love polnteth to the bleeding Christ on cross. The patient, waiting Christ who calls to us Though our weak hearts like angry crowds cry out: 'O crucify Him — crucify the Good; We want Barabbas; want our evil deeds! ' Why weeping, Cesca? Hush, our lady listens; I see her standing in the evening light — Saint, halo-crowned. O Beatrice, speak! Bice. Fm here, dear father. Francesca. Nay, not thee he means. But she — the Beatrice of his youth. Dante. Madonna, at thy feet I lay my love : O, glean it to thee close, most saintly one, Within thy bosom let it He, Scene III Dante 229 Like scented flower, a moment, next thy heart; Or tread It low, beneath thy heel like dust. 'TIs all thy own to prize or scorn, sweet Bice. Didst thou not pray me to shun pride ? Alas ! This pride has proved thorn in my flesh through life. O Beatrice! silent still? Thy lips Are smiling. Hush! At last she speaks. [Dante looks upward as at a vision,'] Bice. [Weeping,] father, father! Dante. [Half -rising from his chair,] My cantos! Madonna — • 1 follow thee. [Rises. Bice tries to restrain him.] Giotto. He sees a vision : stay ! [Holds Bice back, Dante walks toward the wall.] Dante. [Very slowly.] Behind the panel — yea, thou seest all. [He reaches the wall and touches a panel, which opens.] Dante. O, how thy love protects me, Beatrice ! [He takes the lost manuscript from the panel,] 230 Dante Act IF, Giotto. The missing cantos I Bice. A miracle — yea, A miracle from Heaven I Dante. [Turning and gazing upward,'] Madonna, Thou givest me my very light of life! [Pause.^ Thou fadest from my vision I Beatrice! [Jacopo and Pietro assist Dante to a chair, 1 Bice. Father, rest. Dante. Gone — the angels have wafted her To Heaven again. Bice. Praise God, O Father, that He hath vouch- safed This grace to thee. O, let my arms bind thee To earth. Dante. Thou holdest but the fragile shell Of my sad soul. [Touching the manuscript. 1 This casing of my thoughts Scene III Dante 231 Reveals an inner light; take it, my children; Bequeath it to the world when I am gone. [Enter GuiDO Novello and a priest,} GuiDO. We come to ask how now our Dante fares. Dante. He fares now well, since loosed the silver cords, And broken golden bowl. Now shall the dust Return to dust, the spirit to our God. GuiDO. Our days are in His hands; we'll pray He spare Thy life to us for still some length of years. Dante, I bring thee news. Dante. I, too, have news. GuiDO. An embassy from Rome awaiteth thee. Dante. An embassy from Heaven awaits my soul. Through all my life I ever humbly strove To mingle God with daily acts. Why shrink The last act of my life to share with God? Admit my friends. 232 Dante Act IV GuiDO. [Aside to Pietro.] This whispering of Rome Low in Ravenna's ears, means mischief, Pietro. [Enter Cardinal, attendants and Uberto. Dante rises to meet them.] Cardinal. Messer Dante, the holy Church salutes thee. Dante. And I, as when at Rome, salute the Church. [Uberto, having greeted Francesca and Bice, draws near to Dante.] Uberto. [Aside to Dante.] I hear this envoy from the Pope means ill. Dante. E*en a sick lion, when roused, can match a fox. [The Cardinal, having greeted Giotto^ joins Dante.] Cardinal. I fear thy labors have outstripped thy strength. We hear thy poem on Heaven and Hell Is finished. May the Saints grant It be not impious. Dante. 'Tis not the Saints, but men may deem It so. Scene III Dante 233 GuiDO. Most wondrous are the pictures Dante draws ; He mingles poetry, philosophy, Religious thoughts and history in one theme. I feel most honored here to house such guest. Giotto. Yea, this Court harbors now. Lord Cardinal, Italians most illustrious man. Cardinal. God grant His Holiness concedes this, too, good Giotto. Dante. The triple crown oft menaces the laurel. Cardinal. But not when grown on consecrated ground ! The Holy Father sanctions art and learning; The city swears by her proud self these days. We boast the gayest singers, lightest dancers In Rome. Our poets quaff the sparkling wine. On every pinnacle of mirth. Without Some jocund rhymes salute the ears, and, mingling With bells of mules and cries of trafficking. And strangers swarming, add their welcome coin. 234 Dante 'Act IVi Dante. Ay, welcome to the Church. I recollect The year Pope Boniface, most wisely ordered The Jubilee; how pilgrims flocked to Rome, And day and night they raked gold treasures in; These eyes have seen the priests with rakes in hand ; And hundreds slept in streets,, content to lie Within your walls. And now,. Lord Car- dinal, Prithee, proceed — unfold thy mission here. Cardinal. I come because His Holiness, the Pope Desires to satisfy himself thy work Is not Inimical to all the teachings Of Mother Church. I prithee, Messer 'Dante, Commit this manuscript unto my care, So, by perusal, I can straight refute The slanders on it spreading through our land. Dante. Truth needs no refutation. [Touches the manuscript.] This is truth. Scene III Dante 235 Cardinal. {Leaning over and placing his hand on the manuscript.'] Then let us test it, Messer Allighierl. Dante. [Power fully,] Hold I [Pause.] Rome's greedy hand may rake in gold, But not this treasure of my soul. Beware I Cardinal. Thy blasphemies may damn thy poem and soul. Dante. When palaces of Popes He low In ruin When world-famed kings are dust, and all this power A dream of by-gone days, this monument Shall firmly stand as now on rock of truth. Cardinal. Beware I Anathema may be its fate. [Bice starts and cries out.] Dante.. Before the frightened eyes of slaves and chil- dren Shake out thy spectre of anathema, And flay them with the Iron rod of dogma. But free men need not cower before the Church. 236 Dante 'Act IV, They reverence piety In priest or layman. But Catholics should bend to Christ 'fore Rome. Cardinal. The fagots In the market place hiss hot For thee and thy pernicious work, and hell Awaits thee joyfully, thou most accurst — Dante. At last thy mask is off ! Cardinal. Thou heretic! From Rome the Holy Father'U deal with" thee. [Exit with attendants. "[ Dante. [As Cardinal leavesJ] The Holy Father from Heaven will deal with thee. O Rome, is this thy mission, to create St. Peter's chair for knaves to desecrate? Where all the saints once crowned upon that seat? Dead — martyred by these vicious men who wrest The papal power from every hand that's clean. How long, how long, Jerusalem, shall sin Usurp thy purity? O Italy, Scene III Dante 237 Awake to brighter alms of broader purpose. Then let thy mem'ry note my latest breath Declares death hath no sting, no torment hell Keener than earth's injustice, since to live Misunderstood, condemned by those we love, Is death and hell together — Give me air! [Siyiks hack in chair.] How dark it grows. Bice. O God, have mercy on him. ! Dante. [Rousing himself.] Why fear the shears that snip life's snarled thread When it but signifies the end of pain? In gentle guise, come to me, Death, at last; Shut out from strained lids the world's harsh views ; Seal up the jarred ear from earth's rude sounds ; Stay grief's grim accents on the trembling Ups; Steal pain from touch ; take tired exile home ; O thou great herald of eternal rest! GuiDO. His end is near. Giotto. The century's light burns low. 238 Dante 'Act IV 'Dante. [Gazing upward.] Come closer, shades. What, do ye fly my touch ? Hath woe not purified my flesh enow? Must my poor soul, still sighing, sit within The adamantine prison of the flesh? Hath It not even reached an outer door Where through some blessed chink it spies beyond Its kin at rest, care-free, in sweet Elysium? Fed on the tree of life In Paradise, When perfect grown, must these new spirits swing The incense of their love and praise alone In Heaven's domes? Shall not some holy breath Be wafted down from them to earth again. Sweetening our lives and cleansing us from sin. And so let those above by mystic tie Be linked to what they were In living men. [Pause,] Dante. [Resuming.] O Beatrice, such pure soul as thine Needs lower stoop than most, to reach us here. Madonna, at thy feet I lay my love; Scene III Dante 239 O, lift it to thy bosom, let it lie, Like scented blossom, lightly, near thy heart. Still silent, blessed one? Thine eyes speak only; Thou standest near the Church enthroned in glory. Beside the Rose of Heaven, the Virgin Mother, Who shineth, clothed in light eternally. Even thou — even thou — art Beatrice! Stretch out thy holy hands; help me to thee! [Ruing.'] O let my faltering tongue find power So that a spark of all thy glory trail Resplendent through all centuries to come, Lit by the love that moves the sun and stars,- That gives me God and Florence — Bea- trice — [He dies.] Curtain APPENDIX " Two women's angry looks First lit this coal of enmity betwixt Ye twain. When Vieri at the feast, in jest, Begged that some friendly soul should sit be- tween Thy lady and her neighbor at the board '' [Act /.] At a feast, Vieri dei Cerchi, observing two ladies exchange unfriendly looks, laughingly said, "As these two dames do not agree, it will be best to put some friendly soul between them." Dona Donati instantly sprang up, pale with rage, and was leaving the table, when Vieri rose, begged her pardon, and prayed she would be seated, laying his hand upon her sleeve as he spoke. But the angry dame shook it ofF, proclaiming loudly that it had all been a planned insult. Vieri, furious, replied hotly; upon which Donati drew his sword, vowing his wife was insulted. Blows followed, and the feast ended in a general fray, 241 242 Appendix "Nay, truths, proud painter; didst not make thee great With one round O?'* [Act IF: Scene //.] Giotto di Bondone (i 276-1336), founder of modern Italian art, was a shepherd boy, but made rapid progress under his master, Cima- bue. His fame soon spread, and Pope Bene- dict sent one of his courtiers into Tuscany to see what sort of a man he was and what his works were like, for the Pope was planning to have some paintings made in St. Peter's. This courtier, on his way to see Giotto and to find out what other masters of painting and mosaic there were in Florence, spoke with many mas- ters in Sienna, and then, having received some drawings from them, he came to Florence. And one morning going into the workshop of Giotto, who was at his labors, he showed him the mind of the Pope, and at last asked him to give him a little drawing to send to his Holiness. Giotto, who was a man of courteous manners, immedi- ately took a sheet of paper, and with a pen dipped in red, fixing his arm firmly against his side to make a compass of it, with a turn of his hand he made a circle so perfect that it was a marvel to see it. Having done it, he turned 'Appendix 243 smiling to the courtier and said, " Here is the drawing.'' But he, thinking he was being laughed at, asked, **Am I to have no other drawing than this? " "This Is enough and too much," replied Giotto; "send it with the others and see if It will be understood." The mes- senger, seeing that he could get nothing else, departed ill-pleased, not doubting that he had been made a fool of. However, sending the other drawings to the Pope with the names of those who had made them, he sent also Giotto's, relating how he had made the circle without moving his arm and without compasses, which, when the Pope and many of his courtiers under- stood, they saw that Giotto must surpass greatly all the other painters of his time. [Fasari^s Lives,"] " When the Vale was sending to the Seven Hills Fresh fuel from the Forest to the Altar." {Act IV: Scene IL] The Cerchi party was called the Forest party — " Parte Selvagia " — as they came from the woods of the valley of the Seine and district of Acone. Later they assumed the name of 'Blanchl, and Donati's followers were then called NIeri. 244 Appendix " Shall I, then, feed on Dante's pile of bones?" [Act IF: Scene //.] While Dante was at the Court of Can Grande, a boy who was concealed under the table, gathering the bones which, according to the custom of the time, were thrown under the table, placed them all together at the feet of the poet. On rising from the table the pile was discovered. The company seemed much amused, and Can Grande remarked that Dante must be a great eater of meat, to which he quickly retorted, alluding to the name of Cane, " Sir, you would not see so many bones even If I were a dog {un cane)^ [Botta's Dante,'] 4 1911 One copy del. to Cat. Div. &£b ^ YA