P s 3d ti. ~r rA*rvP>fW, Mb wtwr&\rr** /v^SSKW toujCSMfoJ* l *dV>H^«»»^ ^y^:^&oo^^A LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. | ta? .fS33^ wisM | «=£^, | UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. | AiwN* !^VfTfff^^ ^5^OTtG^ vwra "««« ftvfi ^P^^^S&emf. r f- ■ ^ ' r ^ ■ ^ •-' w^&C^.^/^fta^A W ^:r^ : ^^^^ ; mmm 1 is** ■ :ino:<~n^£w^;to8^ AA/Aa/VaaiA; r>AhC^ mfSm< SfWr -"-' r r c - -:'- 5S;.^c3S88cSS2S.' ^!»ft^ f^fli 1 ^V\& ■A-aAa^A«.aaAa.A ~ DOLMAN'S llillfIS ILHB3EJLEY, BIANCA VISCONTL BIANCA VISCONTI; Th® SI©sifftb ®v©irtas]k©<| ?rO ' [Exit Sforza. BIANCA. He does not love me ! I never dream'd of this ! To be his bride Was all the Heav'n I look'd for ! Not to love me When I have been ten years affianced to him ! — When I have liv'd for him — shut up my heart, With every pulse and hope, for his use only — ■ Worshipp'd — oh God ! idolatrously lov'd him ! Why has he sought to marry me ? Why still Renew the broken pledge my father made him 1 Why, for ten years, with war and policy, Strive for my poor alliance? He must love me, Or I shall break my heart ! I never had One other hope in life ! I never link'd One thought, but to this chain! I have no blood — No breath — no being — separate from Sforza ! Nothing has any other name ! The sun Shined like his smile — the lightning was his glory — 5* 54 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT II* The night his sleep, and the hush'd moon watch'd o'er him; — Stars writ his name — his breath hung on the flowers. — Music had no voice but to say / love him, And life no future, but his love for me ! Whom does he love ? Marancio's wife? He praisM Only her courage ! Glueen Giovanna's beauty % 5 Tis dust these many years ! There is no sign He loves another ; and report said ever His glory was his mistress. Can he love? Shame on the doubt ! 'Twas written in the ring " He who loves most loves honor best " — and Sforza Is made too like a god to lack a heart. And so, I breathe again ! To make him love me Is all my life now ! to pry through his nature, And find his heart out. That's wrapt in his glory t I'll feed his glory then ! He praised Giovanna That she was royal and magnificent — Ay — that's well thought on, too ! How should an eye. Dazzled with war and warlike pomp like Sforza's, Find pleasure in simplicity like mine ! (Looks at her dress.) I'm a Duke's daughter, and I'll wear the look on*tl Unlock my jewels and my costly robes, And while I keep his show-struck eye upon me, Watch for a golden opportunity To build up his renown ! ,, And so farewell SCENE JV.] BIANCAVTSCONTI. 55 The gentle world I've liv'd in ! Farewell all My visions of a world for two hearts only — Sforza's and mine ! If I outlive this change, So brief and yet so violent within me, I'll come back in my dreams, oh childish world ! If not — a broken heart blots out remembrance. [Exit into her bridal chamber, which is seen beyond on opening- the door.'] END OP THE SECOND ACT. ACT III. SCENE I. [An ante-chamber of the palace. Brunorio leaning sullenly on his sword by the door. Enter Sarpel- lione.~\ SARPELLIONE. What's this ? — the brave Brunorio turned lackey % BRUNORIO. Nay, Count ! I wait my turn. SARPELLIONE. If a civilian May have a judgment of a soldier's duty, You're out of place, sir ! This is not the camp ! You're not on guard here ! There's a difference Twixt patience at your post, and kicking heels In my Lord's antechamber ! BRUNORIO. By the saints My own thought, noble Count I As you came in I brooded on't. SCENE I.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 57 sarpellione, (aside.) (This blockhead may be turn'd To a shrewd use now ! I have mark'd his brows Blackening upon Rossano, who usurps His confidence with Sforza. Could I seize The lightning in this jealous thunder-cloud — I'll see the depth on't.) Sforza knows you're here ? BRUNOPJO. I had a message by a varlet page, Who bid me wait here. SARPELLIONE. By a page? Sacristie ! Fair treatment for a soldier ! Say, Brunorio ! What was't I heard of the Pope's standard-bearer Chwe to the wrist ? BRUNORIO. Heard you of that, my Lord ? You see the weapon, here ! SARPELLIONE. Was't thine, i' faith? I thought promotion had been won with service ! Was't thou, indeed ? I heard the King Alfonso Say 'twas the best blow and the bravest follow'd He'd know in his time. How it came to his ears I know not— but he made the court ring with it ! 5^ EIANCAVISCONTI. [ACT III. BRUNORIO. The King? SARPELLIONE. How long since thou wast made lieutenant ? BRUNORIO. Five years come March ! SARPELLIONE. Zounds ! how this peasant's son Treads merit in the dust ! Sforza keeps back His betters, brave Brunorio ! {Rossano passes out.) Ay — there I That man cuts off your sunshine, or I know Nothing of courts ! I, that have no part in it, Have mark'd how you are slighted for Rossano ! Forgive my touching on't ! 'Tis my respect For a brave soldier makes me speak so freely. But were I of your counsel — BRUNORIO. Noble Count, My heart speaks thro' your lips. Since this Rossano Has had my Lord's ear, I've been thrust aside Like a disgrac'd hound. SARPELLIONE. Frankly, brave Brunorio ! SCENE I.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 59 And between us, — I've heard you lightly mentioned By this ungrateful Sforza ! BRUNORIO. How, my Lord ? SARPELLIONE. I would not tell you but to serve you in it — He told Rossano, there, that you had strength, And struck a sharp blow — and so did an axe ! But for your brains — and then he tossed his head — You've seen the scorn upon his lip ? BRUNORIO. Curse on him ! I've a sharp blow left yet — and brains enough To find a time to strike it ! Did you say Alfonso had spoke well of me, my Lord ? SARPELLIONE. So well, that, on my own authority— If you'd take service with a better master — You're Captain from this hour. BRUNORIO. My Lord ! So promptly I take your offer, that your commendations Will find no swifter bearer than myself To King Alfonso. SARPELLIONE. Stay — I'm not just now On the best terms with Sforza, and you'll see 60 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT III. With half a glance, that while he's here in Milan His best sword could not leave him for Alfonso, But it would throw suspicion upon me, And touch my credit here. I'll write your warrant, Which you shall keep, and use it when you please. But for the present shut your bosom up, And bear your wrongs. Sforza awaits you now — Go in. I'll see you as you pass again ! [Exit Brunorio. He's a fit tool ! This o'er-ambitious Sforza Must not be Duke — and if I fret this cur Till he will tear his master, why, 'twill save A worthier hand the trouble on't. [Exit Sarpellione. SCENE II. [Sforza discovered sitting thoughtfully in his apart- ment. The Page curiously examining his sword.~\ sforza, {yawning.) This is dull work ! PAGE. My Lord, will't please you, teach me A trick of fence ? SCENE II. J BIANCAVISCONTI. 61 SFORZA. Ay — willingly ! Hast thou A weapon in that needle-case of thine? page, (drawing.) A weapon ! If I had your legs to stand on I'd give you all the odds twixt it and yours ! Look at that blade ! (Bends it.) Damascus ! [Sforza smiles, and unbuckles his scabbard.] By the gods You shall not laugh at me ! I'll give you odds, — With any thing to stand on ! SFORZA. Nay— I'll sit— And you shall touch me if you can ! Come on ! And see I do not rap you o'er the cockscomb ! PAGE. Have at you fairly ! Mind ! for I'm in earnest ! (They fence.) SFORZA. One — two — well thrust, by Jupiter ! Again ! One — two ! page, (makes a lunge.) Three ! there you have it ! sforza, (starting up.) Zounds ! This is no play. 6 62 B1ANCA VISCONTI. [ACT III. PAGE. What ! does the needle prick? ( Wipes it with his handkerchief.) SFORZA. 'Tis a Damascus if thou wilt ! I'll laugh No more at it or thee. Come here, thou varlet ! Where got thy mistress such a ready hand As thou art ? page, {fencing with the chair.) From an eagle's nest, my Lord ! SFORZA. I'll swear to it ! Thou hast the eagle's eye ! But tell me — what brave gentleman of Milan Has thy blood in his veins ? PAGE. I'm not of Milan. Sarpellione brought me here from Naples. SFORZA. Thou'rt not his child. I'll answer for't. PAGE. Not I! I hate him ! Come ! Wilt try another pass ? SFORZA. Stay ! is the count thy Master then ? SCENE II.] BIANCA V1SC0NTI. 63 PAGE. My Master ? He's an old snake ! But I'll say this for him, Were I a royal prince — (as I may be — Who knows !) — Sarpellione could not treat me With more becoming honor. sforza, {starting up suddenly, .) What if this Should be the Duke's son that he told me of? Come hither, sir ! What know you of your father ? (Aside.) (Tis the Visconti's lip !) PAGE. I'll tell you all I know, my Lord. Alfonso sent me here, Five years ago, in quality of page. I was to serve my Lady and no other, And to be gently nurtured. The King gave me A smart new feather — bade me bear myself Like a young Prince at Milan — sforza, (starting away from him.) It is he !— Princely in spirit, and Visconti's impress On every feature ! He'll be Duke of Milan ! PAGE. Heard you the Duke was worse to-day, my Lord? 64 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ ACT III. What Duke? PAGE. Nay, sir ! you ought to know what Duke I I heard the Doctor say you'd wear his crown In three days. Never say I told you of it I He whisper'd it to old Sarpellione, Who— SFORZAo What ? PAGE. Look'd daggers at him ! sforza, (aside.) (Now the devil Plucks at my soul indeed ! If the Duke die, The crown lies in the gift of my new wife, And I were Duke as sure as he were dead — But for this boy ! ( Walks rapidly up and doivn.) I'd set my foot in Venice In half a year! — Ferrara — then Bologna — Florence — and thence to Naples ! I'd be King Of Italy before their mourning's threadbare — But for this boy ! ( The Page still fences with the chair.) I'd found a dynasty !— SCENE II.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 65 Be second of the name — but the first king — And there should go, e'en with the news, to France, A bold ambassador from one Francesco, — Sforza by birth and king of Italy — But for this boy ! I would he were a man ! I would an army barr'd me from the crown, Sooner than this boy's right ! But he might die ! He might have run upon my sword just now ! 'Twere natural, — and so it were to fall In playing with't, and bleed to death unheard, From a ripp'd vein. That would be natural ! He might have died m many ways, and / Have had no part in't. PAGE. Will you fence, my Lord ? sforza, {clutches his sword, and suddenly sheaths it, and walks from him. Aside.) (Get thee gone, devil! After all his glory Shall Sforza be the murderer of a child !) No — No ! I'll not fence with thee ! Go and play I I — I — I — (turns from him.) Stay ! shall such a grain of sand As a boy's life, check Sforza's bold ambition 1. I, who have hewn down thousands in a day For but the play on't — I, upon whose hand Sat slaughter, like a falcon, to let loose 6* 66 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT HI.. At all that flew above me ! I — whose conscience Carries the reckoning of unnumber'd souls Sped unto Hell or Heaven, for this ambition ! — Shall I mar all now with a woman's pity For a fair stripling ! {Draws his sword, and the Page, who has been re- garding him attentively, comes up, and pulls him by the sleeve.) PAGE. Look you here, my Lord ! If I have harm'd you — for you seem so angry I think I have — more than I meant to do — Take my own sword, and wound me back again ! ; I'll not cry out — and when you see me bleed, You'll pardon me that I was so unhappy As to have chanc'd to wound you ! (Kneels, opens his bosom, and offers his sword-hilt to Sforza.) SFORZA. Angels keep me ! Give me thy hand, boy ! (Looks at him a moment, and passes his hand across his eyes.) PAGE. You'll forgive me, sir ? Letting of blood — when done in fair play, mind you I Has no offence in't SCENE III.] BIANCA VIS CO NT I. 67 SF0RZA. Leave me now, sweet boy ! I'll see thee at the feast to-night ! Farewell ! {Page kisses his hand, and exit.) Shade of my father ! If from Heaven thou look'st Upon the bright inheritance of glory I took from thee — pluck from my tortur'd soul These thoughts of Hell — and keep me worthy of thee f ( Walks up and down thoughtfully ', and then presses the crucifix to his lips.) As I am true to honor and that child. Help me, just Heaven ! [Exit. SCENE III. [A bridal feast seen through a glass door in the rear of the stage. Enter from the banquetting room, Bianca, drest with great magnificence, followed by Sforza, Rossano, Brunorio, and Sarpellione. A raised throne at the side. Music heard till the door is closed.] BIANCA. They who love stillness follow us ! The brain Grows giddy with the never-wearying dance r 68 BIANCAVISCONTI. [ACT lit And music's pause is sweet as its beginning. Shut the doors, Giulio ! Sarpellione ! enter ! You're welcome to Trophonius' cave ! We'll hold The Court of Silence, and I'll play the Queen. My brave lord, you shall doff that serious air, And be court favorite — sit you at our feet ! SFORZA. Too envious a place and office both ! I'll sit here with Rossano. Honor's flower — That lifts a bold head in the world — at court, Looks for the lily's hiding-place. sarpellione, (aside.) (What trick Lies in this new humility.) The lily Is lowly born, and knows its place, my Lord ! BIANCA. Yet is it sought with pains while the rose withers ! SARPELLIONE. The rose lifts to the sun its flowering tree, And all its parts are honor'd — while the lily Upon one fragile stem rears all its beauty — And its coarse family of leaves are left To lie on th' earth they cling to. sforza, (to Rossano, with whom he has been conversing apart.) (I've sure news He was worse yesterday !) SCENE III.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 69 (Bianca rising with dignity, and descending from the ducal chair.) BIANCA. Now, since the serpent Misled our mother, never was fair truth So subtly turned to error. If the rose Were born a lily, and, by force of heart And eagerness for light, grew tall and fair, 'Twere a true type of the first fiery soul That makes a low name honorable. They Who take it by inheritance alone — Adding no brightness to it — are like stars Seen in the ocean, that were never there But for the bright originals in Heaven ! sarpellione, (sneeringly.) Rest to the gallant soul'of the Jirst Sforza ! EIANCA. Amen ! but triple glory to the second ! I have a brief tale for thine ear, Ambassador ! SARPELLIONE. I listen, Lady ! BIANCA. Mark the moral, sir ! An eagle once from the Euganean hills Soared bravely to the sky. ( To Sf.) (Wilt please my Lord 70 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT III. List to my story 1) In his giddy track Scarce mark'd by them who gazed upon the first, Follow'd a new-fledged eaglet, fast and well."' Upward they sped, and all eyes on their flight Gazed with admiring awe, when, suddenly, The parent bird, struck by a thunderbolt, Dropp'd lifeless thro' the air. The eaglet paused, And hung upon his wings ; and as his sire Plashed in the far-down wave, men look'd to see him Flee to his nest affrighted ! sforza, (with great interest.) Did he so ? My noble lord — he had a monarch's heart ! He wheel'd a moment in mid air, and shook Proudly his royal wings, and then right on, With crest uplifted and unwavering flight, Sped to the sun's eye, straight and gloriously. PAGE. Lady — is that true ? BIANCA. Ay — men call those eagles Sforza the First and Second ! ( The bell tolls, and enter a messenger.) MESSENGER. Pardon, Madam ! SCENE III.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 71 For my sad news ! your royal Father's dead ! bianca, (aside, with great energy.) (Sforza'llbeDuke!) ( Turning to the messenger.) Died he in much pain, know you ? MESSENGER. Madam — bianca, (aside.) (The crown is mine ! He will remember The crown was mine.) ( Turns to the messenger.) Sent he for any one In his extremity ? MESSENGER. Most honor'd Madam — bianca, (aside.) (Ingratitude is not the lion's fault — He cannot hate me when I make him royal ! It would be monstrous if he did not love me !) ( To the messenger.) Said you my father sent for me 1 MESSENGER. No! Madam, He died as he had lived, unseen of any Save his physician ! 72 BIANCAVISCONTI. [ACT III. bianca, (aside.) (Sforza must be crowned And then our mourning will shut out the world ! He'll be alone with me and his new glory — All royal, and all mine !) ( To Sf.) Please you, my Lord, Dismiss the revellers ! My father's dead ! (Aside.) (There are no more Viscontis — Sforza's children Shall now be Duke of Milan ! Think on that ! He'll think on't, and his heart will come down to me, Or there's no truth in nature !) ( To Sf.) My brave Lord ! Shall we go in? SFORZA. Go you in first ! (hands her in) Rossano Will forth with me, to see the funeral Fitly arrang'd. BIANCA. You'll come back soon, my Lord ! SFORZA. Ay — presently ! \JExit Bianca. ROSSANO. With what a majesty She walks ! SFORZA. She knows not that she has a brother, And in her port already mocks the duchess. SCENE III.] BIANCAVISCONTI. 73 ROSSANO. She would have made a glorious queen, my Lord ! SFORZA. She should have made one — but I cannot talk on't ! Let's forth upon our errand, and forget There was a crown in Milan. [Exeunt END OP THE THIRD ACT, ACT IV. SCENE I. [PasquaWs chamber. Fiametta sitting with his cap in her hand.~\ FIAMETTA. What wilt thou do for a black feather, Pasquali? PASQ.UALI. Hast thou no money ? FIAMETTA. No — save my dowry of six pieces. PASGIUALI. Give the pieces to me, and thy dowry will be ten times greater. FIAMETTA. An it be not six times less, I will never trust counting upon fingers. PASQUALI. Hast thou no dread of dying uncelebrated ? SCENE 1. J BIANCAVISCONTI. 75 FIAMETTA. If it be sin, I have a dread of it by baptism. PASQUALI. Is it a sin to neglect thy immortality ? FIAMETTA. Ay — it is. PASQUALI. Then take heed how thou fallest into sin — for to be the friend of a poet is to be immortal, and thou art no friend of mine if I have not thy six pieces. FIAMETTA. But how shall I have six times more, master Pasquali ? PASQUALI. In reputation ! Wouldst thou marry a fool 1 FIAMETTA. No, truly. PASQUALI. Then if thy husband be wise, he will be more proud that thou art famous, than covetous of thy six pieces. FIAMETTA. And shall I be famous? (Gives him the money.) PASQUALI. Thou wilt live when Sforza is dead ! 76 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT IV. FIAMETTA. Is not Sforza famous, then % PASQUALI. He hath fame while he lives, and so had king Priam of Troy. But if Homer had not written, Priam would have been forgot and Troy too ; and if Sforza live not in poetry, he is as dead in a century — as thou and Laura were, but for thy favors to Petrarch and Pasquali. FIAMETTA. Why does not Sforza give thee six pieces and be im- mortal ? PASQUALI. Truly — he pays more for a less matter ! It is the blind- ness of great men that they slight the poets. Look here now — hath not Sforza shed blood, and wasted treasure, and taken a thousand murders on his soul, to leave a name after him? FIAMETTA. I misdoubt he hath. PASQUALI. Now will I, whom he thinks less worthy than a trum- peter, sit down, and with a scrape of my pen, make a dog's name more known to posterity. FIAMETTA. When thou speakest of a dog, I think of my Lady's SCENE!.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 77 page. Canst thou tell me why she should love him so out of reason ? PASaUALI. Canst thou tell me why the moon riseth not every night, as the sun every day ? FIAMETTA. No— truly. PASQUALI. Neither can I give thee reason for a woman's fancy — which is as unaccountable in its caprice as the moon in its changes. Hence the sun is called " he," the moon "she." FIAMETTA. Holy Virgin — what it is to be learned ! PASaUALI. Come, Fiametta! spend thy dowry while^thy mind is enlightened ! FIAMETTA. If I should repent now ! PASQUALI. Think not of it. If thou should'st repent to-morrow, I shall still go beseemingly to the funeral, and thou wilt be famous past praying for. Come away ! 7* 78 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT IY> SCENE II. [ The garden of the palace of Milan. Enter Bianca. in mourning, followed by Sarpellione.~\ BIANCA. Liar — 'tis not true ! SARPELLIONE. Wil't please you read this letter from the King, Writ when he sent him to you — biancAj (plucks it from him, and tears it to pieces.'} 5 Tis a lie Writ by thyself— sarpellione, (taking up the pieces.) The King has written here The story of his birth, and that he is Your brother, pledges his most royal honor— BIANCA. Lie upon lie — SARPELLIONE. And will maintain the same With sword and battle ! BIANCA. Let him ! There's a Sforza SCENE II.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 7 7 Will whip him back to Naples ! Tell him so ! There'll be a Duke upon the throne of Milan In three days more, whose children will be kings '. SARPELLIONE. Your brother, Madam ! BIANCA. Liar, no ! my husband !. The crown is mine, and /will give it him ! SARPELLIONE. Pardon me, Lady, 'tis not yours to give ! While a Visconti lives — and one does live — Princely, and like his father — 'tis not yours— And Sforza dare not take it. BIANCA. He has taken it, In taking me, Sforza is Duke, I say ! SARPELLIONE. Am I dismissed to Naples with this news ? BIANCA, Ay — on the instant ! SARPELLIONE. Will you give me leave To bid the Prince make ready for his journey % BIANCA. What Prince? 80 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ ACT IV, SARPELLIONE. Your brother, Madam, who'll come back With the whole league of armed Italy To take the crown he's born to. BIANCA. I've a page I love, called Giulio ! If you mean to ask me If he goes with you — lying traitor ! no ! I love him, and will keep him ! SARPELLIONE. Ay— till Milan Knows him for Prince, and then farewell to Sforza I He's flown too near the sun ! BIANCA. Foul raven, silence ! What dost thou know of eagles who wert born To mumble over carrion ! Hast thou look'd On the high front of Sforza ! Hast thou heard The thunder of his voice ? Has met his eye ? 'Tis writ upon his forehead : "born a king!" Read it, blind liar ! SARPELLIONE. Upon your brother's, Lady, The world shall read it. BIANCA. Wilt thou drive me mad ? SCENE Ii.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 81 They say all breathing nature has an instinct Of that which would destroy it. I of thee Feel that abhorrence ! If a glistering serpent Hiss'd in my path, I could not shudder more, Nor would I kill it sooner — so begone ! I'll strike thee dead else ! SARPELLIONE. Madam ! {Exit Sarpellione.) 'Tis my brother ! At the first word with which he broke it to me My heart gave nature's echo ! 'Tis my brother ! I would that he were dead — and yet I love him — Love him so well, that I could die for him — Yet hate him that he bars the crown from Sforza, He's betwixt me and Heaven ! were he but dead ! Sforza and I would, like the sun and moon, Have all the light the world has ! He must die l : Milan will rise for him — his boyish spirit Is known and loved in every quarter of it. Naples is powerful, and Venice holds Direct succession holy, and the lords Of all the Marches will cry " down usurper !" For Sforza's glory has o'ershadowed their's. Both cannot live, or I must live unloved — And that were hell — or die,, and Heaven without him 82 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT IV. Were but a hell — for I've no soul to go there ! Nothing but love ! no memory but that ! No hope ! no sense ! — Heaven were a madhouse to me ! Hark ! who comes here 1 {Enter Sarpellione and Brunorio. Bianca conceals herself.) SARPELLIONE. Strike but this blow, Brunorio — And thou'rt a made man ! BRUNORIO. Sforza sleeps not well. SARPELLIONE. Art thou less strong of arm than he who called thee A brainless ass ! BRUNORIO. 'S death, he did call me so ! SARPELLIONE. And more I never told thee. Pay him for it — And thou wilt save a Prince who'll cherish thee, And Sforza's soul a murder — for he'll kill him Ere one might ride to Naples. BRUNORIO. Think'st thou so ? SARPELLIONE. Is it not certain? If this boy were dead SCENE II.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 83 Sforza were Duke. With Milan at his back He were the devil. Rather than see this, Alfonso would share half his kingdom with thee. BRUNORIO. I'll do it ! SARPELLIONE. Thou wilt save a Prince's life Whom he would murder. Now collect thy senses, And look around thee ! On that rustic bank, Close by the fountain, with his armor off, He sleeps away the noon. BRUNORIO. With face uncovered 1 SARPELLIONE. Sometimes — but oftener with his mantle drawn Quite over him ! But thou must strike so well, That, should he see thee, he will never tell on't. BRUNORIO. I'd rather he were covered. SARPELLIONE. 'Tis most likely — But mark the ground well. By this alley here, You'll creep on unperceived. If he's awake — You're his Lieutenant, and may have good reason To seek him any hour ! Are you resolved ? 34 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT IV. BRUNORIO. I am! SARPELLIONE. Once more look round you ! BRUNORIO. If he sleep To-morrow, he'll ne'er wake ! SARPELLIONE. Why, that's well said — Come now and try the horse I've chosen for you. We'll fly like birds with welcome news to Naples ! {Exeunt Sarpellione and Brunorio.) BIANCA. Thank God that I was here ! Can there be souls So black as these — to plot so foul a murder ! Oh unretributive and silent Heavens ! Heard you these men 1 Thank God that I can save him ! The sun shone on them — on these murderers — As it shines now on me ! — Would it were Giulio They thought to murder ! — Ha ! what ready fiend Whisper'd me that? Giulio instead of Sforza ! Why that were murder — too ! — Brunorio's murder ! — Not mine ! — my hands would show no blood for it ! If Giulio were asleep beneath the mantle To-morrow noon, and Sforza in his chamber — SCENE II.] BIANCAVISCONTI. 85 What murder lies upon my soul for that? I'll come again to-night, and see the place, And think on't in the dark ! \Exit Bianca, END OF THE FOURTH ACT, ACT V. SCENE I. [Same scene in the garden. Enter Bianca.'] BIANCA. No ! no ! come hate — come worse indifference ! Come any thing — I will not ! He is gone To bring me flowers now, for he sees I'm sad ; Yet, with his delicate thought, asks not the reason, But tries to steal it from me ! — could I kill him ! His eyes grew moist this morn, for I was pale — With thinking of his murder ! could I kill him ! Oh Sforza ! I could walk on burning ploughshares, But not kill pitying Giulio ! I could starve — Or freeze with wintry cold — or swallow fire — Or die a death for every drop of blood Kneeling at my sad heart, but not kill Giulio ! No — no — no ! no ! (Sforza comes in dejectedly.) My Lord ! My noble Lord ! SFORZA. Give you good day, Bianca ! SCENE I.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 87 BIANCA. Are yoif ill, That you should drop your words so sorrowfully? SFORZA. I am not ill, nor well ! BIANCA. Not well? SFORZA. The pulse Beats on sometimes, when the heart quite runs down. I'm very well ! BIANCA. My Lord, you married me — The priest said so — to share both joy and sorrow. For the last privilege I've shed sweet tears ! — If I'm not worthy — SFORZA. Nay — you are ! — I thank you For many proofs of gentle disposition, Which, to say truth, I scarcely look'd for in you — Knowing that policy, and not your choice, United us ! BIANCA. My Lord ! BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT V. I say you're worthy, For this, to see my heart — if you could do so, But there's a grief in't now which brings you joy. And so you'll pardon me ! {Giulio comes in with a heap of flowers, which he throws down and listens.) BIANCA. That cannot be S SFORZA. Listen to this. I had a falcon lately, That I had train'd, till, in the sky above himj He was the monarch of all. birds that flew. I loved him next my heart, and had no joy, But to unloose his feet, and see the eagle Quail at his fiery swoop ! I brought him here ! Sitting one day upon my wrist, he heard The nightingale you love, sing in the tree, While I applauded him. With jealous heart My falcon sprang to kill him ; and with fear For your sweet bird, I struck him to my feet; And since that hour, he droops. His heart is broke. And he'll ne'er soar again ! Why, one such bird Were worth a thousand nightingales.. SCENE I.J BFANCA VISCONTI. 89 bianca, (aside.) (Poor boy ! He utters his own doom!) (To Sf.) My Lord, I have A slight request, which you will not refuse me. Please you, to-day sleep in your chamber. I Will give you reason for't. SFORZA. Be't as you will ! The noon creeps on apace, and in my dreams I may forget this heaviness. ( Goes in.) BIANCA. Be stern, Strong heart ! and think on Sforza ! Giulio ! PAGE. Madam S bianca, (aside.) (He's hot and weary now, and will drink freely This opiate in his cup, and from his sound And sudden sleep he'll wake in Paradise.) Giulio, I say ! (She mixes an opiate.) Sweet Lady, pardon me ! I dream'd I was in Heaven, and fear'd to stir Lest I should jar some music. Was't your voice I heard sing, ' Giulio V 8* 90 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT "VT. bianca, (aside.) (Oh, ye pitying angels. Let him not love me most, when I would kill him.) Drink! Giulio! PAGE. Is it sweet? BIANCA. The sweetest cup You'll drink in this world ! PAGE. I can make it sweeter — BIANCA. And how? PAGE. With your health in it ! BIANCA. Drink it not ! Not my health ! Drink what other health thou wilt ! Not mine — not mine ! PAGE. Then here's the noble falcon That Sforza' told us of ! Would you not kill The nightingale that broke his spirit, Madam ? BIANCA. Oh Giulio ! Giulio ! ( Weeps.) SCENE I.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 91 Nay — I did not think You loved your singing bird so well, dear lady ! BIANCA. (He'll break my heart !) PAGE. Say truly ! if the falcon Must pine unless the nightingale were dead. Would you not kill it ? BIANCA. Tho' my life went with it— I must do so ! PAGE. Why — so I think I And yet If I had fed the nightingale, and lov'd him ; And he were innocent, as, after all, He is, you know — I should not like to kill him — Not with my own hands ! BIANCA. Now, relentless Heavens, Must I be struck with daggers thro' and through ! Speaks not a mocking demon with his lips ? I will not kill him ! PAGE. Sforza has gone in— 92 BIANCA VISC ON TI. [ACT V. May I sleep there, sweet lady, in his place ? BIANCA. No — boy ! thou shalt not ! PAGE. Then will you ? BIANCA. Oh God I I would I could ! and have no waking after ! Come hither, Giulio! nay — nay — stop not there ! Come on a little, and I'll make thy pillow Softer than ever mine will be again ! Tell me you love me ere you go to sleep ! PAGE. With all my soul, dear Mistress ! (Drops asleep.) BIANCA. Now he sleeps ! This mantle for his pall — but stay — his shape Looks not like Sforza under it. Fair flowers (Heaps them at Ms feet, and spreads the mantle over all) Your innocence to his ! Exhale together, Pure spirit and sweet fragrance ! So — one kiss ! Giulio ! my brother ! Who comes there ? Wake, Giulio ! Or thou'lt be murdered ! Nay — 'twas but the wind ! ( Withdraws on tiptoe, and crouches behind a tree.) SCENE II.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 93 I will kneel here and pray ! (Brunorio creeps in, followed by Sarpellione at a dis- tance.) Hark ! SARPELLIONE. See — he sleeps. Strike well, and fear not ! bianca, (springing forward as he strikes.) Giulio ! Giulio I wake ! Ah God! (She drops on the body, the murderer escapes and Sforza rushes in. As he bends over her the scene closes.) SCENE II. [A road outside the walls of Milan. Enter Sarpelli- one and Brunorio, flying from the city, and met by Pasqitali.~\ pasquali. What news, sirs ? (.4s they attempt to pass him without answer, he steps before Sarpellione.) Stay, Count, IVe a word with you ! 94 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT V. SARPELLIONE. Stand off, and let me pass ! PASaUALI. Nay, with your leave, One single word ! SARPELLIONE. Brunorio 1 hasten forward, And loose my bridle ! I'll be there o' th' instant I {Brunorio hastens on.) What would you say ? PASO.UALI. My Lord ! I hear the bell Tolling in Milan, that is never heard But at some dread alarm. sarpellione, (pressing to go on.} Is that all 1 PASQUAL1. Stay! I met a flying peasant here just now, Who mutter'd of some murder, and flew on ! SARPELLIONE. Slave ! let me pass ! (Draws, and Pasquali confronts him with his sword.) SCENE II.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 95 PASQUALI. My Lord ! you once essayed To tempt me to a murder. Something tells me That this hot haste has guilt upon its heels, And you shall stay till I know more of it. Down with your point ! SARPELLIONE. Villain ! respect my office ! PASQUALI. No " villain," and no murderer ! In Milan They've soldiers' law, and if your skirts are bloody, You'll get small honor for your coat, Ambassador ! Bear back, I say ! ( They fight, and Sarpellione falls, disarmed, on his knee.) SARPELLIONE. In mercy, spare my life ! PASQUALI. Up, coward ! You shall go before to Milan, And meet the news ! If you are innocent, I'll ne'er believe a secret prompting more. If not, I've done the state a worthy service. On, on, I say ! (Drives Sarpellione out before him at the point of his sicord.) 96 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT V. SCENE III. [A room of state in the palace. Enter Rossano and a Priest.'] ROSSANO. Will she not eat ? PRIEST. She hath not taken food Since the boy died ! ROSSANO. Nor slept? PRIEST. Nor closed an eyelid ! ROSSANO. What does she? PRIEST. Still, with breathless repetition, Goes thro' the Page's murder — makes his couch As he lay down i' the garden — heaps again The flowers upon him to eke out his length ; Then kisses him, and hides to see him kill'd ! 'Twould break your heart to look on't. ROSSANO. Is't the law That she must crown him ? SCENE III.] BIANCAVISCONTI. 97 PRIEST. If, upon the death Of any Duke of Milan, the succession Fall to a daughter, she may rule alone, Giving her husband neither voice nor power If she so please. But if she delegate The crown to him, or in extremity Impose it, it is not legitimate, Save he is crown'd by her own living hands In presence of the council. {Enter Sforza, hastily, in full armor, except the hel- met.) SFORZA. Ho ! Rossano ! ROSSANO. My Lord ! SFORZA. Send quick, and summon in the council To see the crown imposed ! Bianca dies ! My throne hangs on your speed ! Fly ! {Exit Rossano.) Sentry, ho ! Despatch a hundred of my swiftest horse Tow'rd Naples ! Bring me back Sarpellione ! Alive or dead, a thousand ducats for him ! Quick! {Exit sentinel, re-enter Rossano.) 9 98 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT V. ROSSANO. I have sped your orders ! {Enter a messenger.) Please, my Lord, Lady Bianca prays your presence with her! SFORZA. Away ! I'll come ! ( To Rossano.) Go, man the citadel With my choice troops ! Post them at every gate ! Send for the Milanese to scout or forage, I care not what, so they're without the wall ! And hark, Rossano ! if you hear a knell Wail out before the coronation peal, — Telling to Milan that Bianca's dead, And there's no Duke — down with the ducal banner, And, like an eagle, to the topmost tower Up with my gonfalon ! Away ! {Re-enter the messenger from Bianca.) My Lord— SFORZA. I come ! I come ! PASQUALI, (ivitJlOUt.) In, in! {Enter Sarpellione, followed by Pasquali.) sarfeluone, {aghast at the sight of Sforza.) Alive ! SCENE III.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 99 SFORZA. Ha, devil! Have you come back to get some fresher news 1 Alfonso'd know who's Duke ! While you are hanging, I'll ride to Naples with the news myself! Ha ! ha ! my star smiles on me ! (Bianca rushes in, and crouches at the side of Sforza, as if hiding from something beyond him.) BIANCA. Hark ! I hear them ! Come ! come ! Brunorio ! — If you come not quick, My heart will break and wake him ! (Presses her hand painfully to her side.) Crack not yet ! Nay, think on Sforza ! Think 'tis for his love ! Giulio will be an angel up in Heaven, And Sforza will drink glory from my hand ! Come! come! Brunorio! (Screams piercingly.) Ah, who murder'd Giulio ! Not I!— not I! not I! sforza, (watching her with emotion.) Oh God ! how dearly Are bought the proudest triumphs of this world ! BIANCA. Will the bell never peal! 100 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT V. priest, (to an attendant.) On that string only Her mind plays truly now. Her life hangs on it ! The waiting for the bell of coronation Is the last link that holds ! sforza, (raising her.) My much-lov'd wife ! BIANCA. Is it thee, Sforza 1 Has the bell pealed yet % SFORZA. Think not of that, but take some drink, Bianca! You'll kill me this way ! bianca, (dashing down the cup.) Think you I'll drink fire ! SFORZA. Then taste of this ! (Offers her a pomegranate.) bianca, (laughing bitterly.) I'm not a fool ! I know The fruit of Hell has ashes at the core ! Mock me some other way ! SFORZA. My poor Bianca ! BIANCA. !Ha ! ha ! that's well done ! You've the shape of Sforza, And you're a devil, and can mock his voice", SCENE III.] BIANCA VISC0NTI. 101 But Sforza never spoke so tenderly ! You overdo it ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! SPORZA. God help me, I would her brother had been Duke in Milan And I his slave — so she had liv'd and lov'd me ! BIANCA. Can you see Heaven from hence ! I thought 'twas part Of a soul's agony in Hell to see The blest afar off? Can I not see Giulio ? (Struggles, as if to escape something before her eyes.) Sforza's between ! SFORZA. Bianca ! sayst thou that? (Struggles with himself a moment.) Nay, then, 'tis time to say farewell Ambition ! (Tarns to the Priest.) Look, father ! I'm unskill'd in holy things, But I have heard, the sacrifice of that ; j Which the repenting soul lov'd more than Heaven, Will work a miracle ! ( Takes his sword from his scabbard, and proceeds in a deeper voice.) I love my sword As never mother loved her rosy child ! My heart is in its hilt — my life, my soul, 9* 102 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT T. Follow it like the light ! Say thou dost think If I give that up for a life of peace, Heav'n will give back her reason — priest, {eagerly.) Doubt it not ! SFORZA. Then— take it ! (Drops the hilt into his hand, and holds it a moment.) sarpellione, (in a hoarse whisper.) Welcome news for King Alfonso ! sforza, (starting.) Fiend ! sayst thou so ! Nay, then, come back my sword. I'll follow in its gleaming track to Naples If the world perish ! (Enter Rossano.) Now, what news, Rossano? ROSSANO. In answer to your wish, the noble council Consent to see the crown imposed in private, Three delegated lords will presently Attend you here ! sforza, (energetically.) Tell him who strikes the bell, To look forth from his tower and watch this window ! When he shall see a handkerchief wave hence Let him peal out. (Attendant goes out.) SCENE HI.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 103 My gonfalon shall float Over St. Mark's before Foscari dreams There's a new Duke in Milan ! Let Alfonso Look to the north ! (Enter attendant.) ATTENDANT. My Lord ! the noble council Wait to come in ! (Sforza waves his hand, and they enter.) 1st lord. Health to the noble Sforza ! SFORZA. My lords, the deep calamity we suffer Must cut off ceremony. Milan's heiress Lies there before you, failing momently, But holds in life to give away the crown. If you're content to see her put it on me Let it be so as quickly as it may ! Give signal for the bell ! ( The handkerchief is waved and the bell peals. Bi- anca rises to her feet.) BIANCA. It peals at last ! Where am I ? Bring some wine, dear Giulio ! (Looks round fearfully.) 104 bianca visconti. [act v. Am I awake now ! I've been dreaming here That he was dead ! Oh God ! a horrid dream ! Come hither, Sforza ! I have dreamt a dream, If I can tell it you — will make your hair Stand up with horror ! SFORZA. Tell it not ! BIANCA. This Giulio Was, in my dream, my brother ! how I knew it I do not now remember — but I did I And lov'd him — (that you know must be a dream) Better than you ! SFORZA. What— better 1 BIANCA. Was't not strange 7 Being my brother, he must have the crown ! Stay ! — is my father dead — or was't i' the dream too? SFORZAo. He's dead, Bianca ! BIANCA. Well ! you lov'd me not, And Giulio did — and somehow you should hate me If he were Duke ; and so I kill'd him, loving me, For you that lotfd me not ! Is it not strange SCENE HI.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 105 That we can dream such things ? The manner of it— To see it in a play would break your heart — It was so pitiless ! Look here ! this boy Brings me a heap of flowers ! — I'll show it you As it was done before me in the dream! Don't weep ! 'twas hut a dream — but I'll not sleep Again till I've seen Giulio — the blood seem'd So ghastly natural ! I shall see it, Sforza, Till I have pass'd my hand across his side ! ( Turning to the attendants.) Will some one call my Page ? SFORZA. My own Bianca, Will you not drink ? (She drops the cup in horror.) BIANCA. Just such a cup as that Had liquid fire in't when the deed was done — A devil mock'd me with it ! (Another cup is brought, and she drinks.) This is wine ! Thank God, I wake now ! (She turns to an attendant.) Will you see if Giulio Is in the garden ? SFORZA. Strike the bell once more ? 106 BIANCA VISCONTI. [ACT T> BIANCA. He kiss'd me ere he slept — wilt listen, Sforza 1 SFORZA. Tell me no more, sweet one ! BIANCA. And then I heaped The very flowers he brought me, at his feet. To eke his body out as long as yours — Was't not a hellish dream ? [{The* bell strikes again, and she covers her ears in horror.') That bell! Oh God, 'Tis no dream — now I know — yes — -yes — I know , These be the councillors — and you are Sforza, And that's Rossano — and I kill'd my brother To make, you Duke ! Yes, yes ! I see it all ! Oh God ! Oh God r (She covers her face, and weeps.) SFORZA. My Lords! her reason rallies Little by little. With this flood of tears, Her brain's reliev'd, and she'll give over raving. My wife ! Bianca ! If thou ever lovd'st me, Look on my face ! BIANCA. Oh, Sforza, I have givea SCENE III.] BIANCA VISCONTI. 107 For thy dear love, the eyes I had to see it, The ears to hear it. I have broke my heart In reaching for't. SFORZA. Ay — but 'tis thine now, sweet one ! The life-drops in my heart are less dear to me ! BIANCA. Too late ! you've crush'd the light out of a gem You did not know the price of! Had you spoken But one kind word upon my bridal night ! SFORZA. Forgive me, my Bianca ! BIANCA. I am parch'd With thirst now, and my eyes grow faint and dim. Are you here, Sforza ! mourn not for me long ! But bury me with Giulio ! (Starts from him.) Hark ! I hear His voice now ! Do the walls of Paradise Jut over Hell ? I heard his voice, I say ! (Strikes off Sforza, who approaches her.) Unhand me, devil! You've the shape of one Who upon earth had no heart ! Can you take No shape but that? Can you not look like Giulio 1 (Sforza falls back, struck with remorse.) Hark! 'tis his low, imploring voice again — He prays for poor Bianca ! And look, see you ! The portals stir ! Slow, slow— and difficult ! — 108 BIANCA V ISC NT I. [ACT V. (Creeps forward with her eyes upward.) Pray on, my brother ! Pray on, Giulio ! I come ! (Falls on her face.) (Sforza drops on his knee, pale and trembling.) SFORZA. My sou] shrinks with unnatural fear ! What heard I then ? " Sforza, give up thy sword !" Was it from Heaven or Hell ! (Shrinks, as if from some spectre in the air.) I will! I will! (Holds out his sword as if to the monk, and Sarpelli- one, who has been straining forward to watch Is- abella, springs suddenly to her side.) SARPELLIONE. She's dead ! Ha ! ha ! who's Duke in Milan now ? (Sforza rises with a bound.) SFORZA. Sforza ! (He flies to the window, and leaves the handkerchief. The bell peals out, and as he rushes to Isabella, she moves, lifts her head, looks wildly around, and struggles to her feet. Rossano gives her the crown — she looks an instant smi- lingly on Sforza, and with a difficult but calm effort pla- ces it on his head. All drop on one knee to do allegiance^ . and as Sforza lifts himself to his loftiest height, with a look of triumph at Sarpellione, Bianca sinks dead at his feet.) [ Curtain falls. ERRATA. On page 108, for " Isabella," on the 12th and 20ih lines from the top, read " BiancaP % /ZjL£. JZ*. ■<<£->/