Kid flO? IF 3PI OR, THE BRIDALS OF MESSINA. BY JAMES SHERIDAN KNOAVLES. TRICE FOUR SHILLINGS. JOHN OF PROCIDA; THE BRIDALS OF MESSINA. IN FIVE ACTS. JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 'I AUTHOR OF "VIRGINIUS," " THK HUNCHBACK," ETC. LONDON: EDWARD MOXON, DOVER STREET. N MDCCCXL. tONDONt BRADBORY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITKFRTARS. CAPTAIN CHARLES H. TOWNLEY, R.N. 4, GREAT GEORGE'S SQUARE, LIVERPOOL. My Dear Friend, I have the greatest pride and pleasure in now redeeming an old promise that of dedicating a PLAY of mine to you. Whether as a gallant naval officer, an accomplished seaman, or an amiable private citizen, I do not know the man who ought to supersede you in receiving this humble heart-tribute from your affectionate and grateful servant, JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 29, ALFRED PLACH, BEDFORD SQUARE. 829134 ADVERTISEMENT. IN the sweet solitudes of Loch Ard, while domesticated under the roof of my friend Mr. Robert Dick, this tragedy, like my last drama, " Love," was rapidly composed. My kind host, upon this occasion, as well as upon the former one, controlled my passion for the angle as much as he could, proportioning my indulgence in my favourite amuse- ment to my industry and progress, which he daily watched with tyrannical scrutiny. It was needed. To him and to his amiable family I owe some of the happiest and most profitable weeks I ever spent. The manner in which this play has been got up reflects the highest credit on Mr. and Mrs. Mathews. No expense has been shrunk from. The scenery, dresses, everything' have been supplied with lavish liberality. Zealously and ably have Mr. Bartley and Mr. Cooper superintended the rehearsals of the play. vi ADVERTISEMENT. The Messrs. Grieve have laboured hard, and not in vain, to divide with the author the credit of success and I thank them most cordially. I am sure the performers will carry the tragedy through triumphantly, as far as triumph depends on their talents and exertions. To one of them I feel bound to allude in particular, inasmuch as he is comparatively a stranger on the London boards I mean Mr. Moore. To this gentle- man I have entrusted the hero of my play ; my confidence in his abilities is perfect, and will, I am satisfied, be thoroughly borne out by the result. CHARACTERS. SICILIANS. PROCIDA . Mr. Moore. FERNANDO . Mr. Anderson. GUISCARDO Mr. Cooper. MARTINI . ...... Mr. W. H. Payne. ANDREA Mr. Hemming. CARLO Mr. Binge. STEPHANO ....... Mr. C. J. Smith. THOMASO Mr. Colletl. FRANCISCO Mr. Morelli. FRENCH. GOVERNOR Mr. Diddear. MARTEL ........ Mr. Brindal. Louis Mr. Fitzjames. AMBROSE Mr. Bland. LE CLERC ........ Mr. Wigan. FRANCOIS Mr. Honner. PIERRE Mr. Connell. ANTHONIO ....... Mr. S. Smith. EUGENE ....... Mr. Thompson. IsOLFNE ........ MissE. Tree. MARGUERITE Miss Fifaiames. JOHN OF PROCIDA; OR, THE BRIDALS OF MESSINA. ACT L SCENE I. A Pass in the Mountains near Messina. Enter GUISCARDO and STEPHANO. GUJSCARDO. His words were fire both light and heat ! At once "With zeal they warm'd us, and convinced with reason, I had read and heard of eloquence before, How 'tis despotic ; takes the heart by storm, Whate'er the ramparts, prejudice, or use Environ it withal ; how, 'fore its march, Stony resolves have given way like flax ; How it can raise, or lay, the mighty surge Of popular commotion, as the wind, The wave that frets the sea ; but, till to-day, I never proved its power. When he began, A thousand hearers prick'd their ears to list, With each a different heart ; when he left off, Each man could tell his neighbour's, by his own. ' '. - JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACTI J >,?-'. -. ' STEPHANO. Is't John of Procida ? GUISCARDO. So rumour says. Who else ? The constant's! friend of Sicily ; The friend that loves, yet suffers for his love. Heard'st ever lips before, with power like his ? A holy man, and brigand, near me stood, Wedged by the press together ; churlishly They first endured their compell'd neighbourhood, And shrank from contact, they would fain escape ; The one with terror ; and with scorn the other, Who blaz'd with life and passion, like a torch Beside a taper ; such the man of prayer Appeared, in contrast with the freebooter. But, lo ! the change ! soon as the orator That universal chord, with master skill, Essay'd the love of country like two springs, Ravines apart, whose waters blend at last In some sweet valley ; leaning cheek to cheek, Attracted by resistless sympathy, Their tears together ran, one goodly river ! Hark ! the dispersing crowd, taking their leave From the last hill-tops. Let us join them. [.They cheer. STEPHANO. Hither Come Andrea and John of Procida. Let's on, my friend, nor interrupt their converse, For it seems deep, and earnest. GUISCARDO. Have with you. j- SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 3 I would Fernando had been here, that friend I scarce can boast, yet canH refrain to love. If there be latent virtue in his blood, O' the kind endears the land that gives us birth, Such heart enforcement sure had calFd it forth ! [ They go out. Enter PROCIDA, disguised as a Cordelier, and ANDREA. ANDREA. You move my wonder past the speaking on't. I never dream 'd in such extremity, Such hope could be so near ! PROCIDA. 'Tis in the crisis The fever does or dies. Our friends abroad Are warm and not a few ; the fleet you see In the offing, and supposed the Pope's, is ours ; At home, Sicilians are as one single man, Their thoughts, their feelings, their resolves, the same. In this disguise, each quarter of the isle Where man hath habitation, house, or cave, I have visited ; and tuned the minds of all To the same temper and the self-same aim, Vengeance and Liberty ! Before a week The hordes of France shall dwindle to the man Whose execution ends them. ANDREA. Retribution Indeed ! PROCIDA. Yes ; sweeping and definitive. Thou seem'st to lower at it. Hast any part 4 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. In France ? Dost owe her kindliness or ruth ? The tyranny that Sicily weeps daily With blood ? her children's scourge, as testify Murder and rapine, that unblushingly Enact their parts in open day, and lust With quite as little shame ? I know that men Will turn to tigers in a stormed town That's yielded them to sack ; but Syracuse, Palermo, and Messina, stood no siege, And yet they sack'd them, and the game goes on, And in cold blood. What weighs upon thy heart ? Or what can weigh when thy dear native land Is nigh to throw her grievous burden off? ANDREA. Twas not with heed for France my visage fell, But thee. PROCIDA. But me ! For what ? ANDREA. Those who devote themselves To virtuous causes, where bad men prevail And breed contamination, have at times A hard and most ungracious part to play, When those they love behoves they mark to suffer. PROCIDA. Whom do I mark to suffer, yet do love ? I have no kindred, have I ? If I have, It must be only in that far degree Where distance genders strangeness. ANDREA. Hadst thou not A son? SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. PROC1DA. Thou know^st I had ! Thou know'st he's dead ! The infant perish'd in the sacking of My castle ! So it was affirmed by one Who brought the horrid tale Is he alive ? ANDREA. Be patient ! You remember, do you not, When he was four years old, or thereabouts You told me his age, for he was then a boy Might pass for six, and I did take him for it, He was so fine a child you recollect At e'en that tender age a hard excrescence, And something like a wart, but larger, which Like threatening mischief had begun to grow, At thy request I from his fore-arm cut. 'Twas rooted deep ; as deep of course the wound, And, answering to the knife, of crucial form ! PROCIDA. I recollect it ! Is the boy alive ? ANDREA. Listen ! 'Twas here I cut it from his arm. 'Tis true another might have such a cause For surgery in even such a place, And such a scar the remedy might leave ; Though to my own hand I could safely swear. PROCIDA. Hast seen the mark on any one ? ANDREA. I pray you Hear what I have to tell, then draw yourself The inference. 6 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT T. PROCIDA. Heaven ! I have a son, And he's in jeopardy, and I the cause ! ANDREA. Remember you one Angelo Martini ? PROCIDA. Master of arms ? ANDREA. The same ; I went to see The practice at his school. One a young man Of most commanding person, and of 'haviour To win all hearts took up the foil to play, And baring his right arm for freer use PROCIDA. You saw the mark ! You saw the scar ! ANDREA. 1 did. The very cicatrix my knife had left. PROCIDA. I have not heard news of late and such as this Comes somewhat suddenly. Is he a man Of honour ? ANDREA. I would think him so. PROCIDA. Would think ? Nay, then, I see what he is ! ANDREA. Indeed, my friend, I cannot say he is, nor yet, is not. SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. PROCIDA. You say he stands in danger, and from me. 'Tis clear as day I comprehend it all ! He takes the part of France ! His heart is French ! What Sicily gave him he gives to France, The curse of Sicily ! And if a sword Lights on his head for that, who'll blame the smiter ? Not his own father ! Where abideth he ? ANDREA. Ill Messina, with the governor. PROCIDA. Perdition ! Scarce is the worst told ere worse follows it ! The governor ! ANDREA. Nay, John of Procida, Command thyself ! PROCIDA. Could'st thou, if thou wast I ? Did'st question him about that scar ? Perhaps 'Tis not my son ! O Heaven .' in what a strait A father may be put. I wished him dead Just now. I own I did. Did'st speak to him About that mark ? ANDREA. No there were standers by. PROCIDA. You followed him out ? ANDREA. No. PROCIDA. No! JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. ANDREA. One beckon'd me Apart, and held mine ear ; and when I turn'd To look for him, I missM him. He had gone ! PROCIDA. You have seen him since, and spoken with him . ANDREA. No: I have craved an audience, but was out of time. PROCIDA. Indeed ! A mighty man ! You should have thrust All let aside, and walk'd into his chamber, And told him who you were and what he was ! ANDREA. You do forget I was a stranger to him. PROCIDA. You did forget you were his father's friend, And by that title had a right to see him At any place, at any hour o' the day. Whom does he pass for? ANDREA. Not thy son. PROCIDA. That's right ! I am very glad of that ! ANDREA. All I could learn Was this ; that in the sacking of thy castle He only did escape, a little child. The governor adopted him, and gave him The liberal training of a cavalier. Favour on kindness grew, and love on favour, SCENE ii.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 9 And e'en to-day the governor bestows His only daughter on him. PROCIDA. Pestilence Spring from their union if they wed ! ANDREA. My friend ! PROCIDA. When is the ceremony ? ANDREA. I have said To-day. PROCIDA. The hour I mean the very hour. ANDREA. At twelve. PROCJDA. Let the world end ere it takes place ! It must be stopped. ANDREA. And who shall stop it ? PROCIDA. I! Straight to Messina. Come ! The shortest way ! {They go out. SCENE II. A Street in Messina. Enter STEPHANO, THOMASO, CARLO. CARLO. No mischief come last night to any friends Of yours ? 10 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. STEPHANO. None, sir, that I have heard. CARLO. No throat In frolic cut ? No gamesome robbery ? No courtesy on wife or daughter forced Of any that you know? STEPHANO. None. CARLO. Luckless man ! My brother was compell'd keep open shop After the hour of shutting customers So hot, there's not a shelf he hath but gapes For new replenishing ! And that took place Not half a month before. No pleasant news With you ? [ToTHOMASO. THOMASO. None yet ! CARLO. Take comfort, it will come Before we get to the end of the next street. The French do love us, sirs ; and, like true friends, Will keep our spirits from stagnation, though It be against our wills. You know 'tis health. Come on. We^ll have more news, and plenty on't. [Going. curscARDO (without, at the opposite side). Thomaso ! Stephano ! Stop ! Turn ! (Enters.) At last You hear me, sirs ! I am breathed with chasing you ! Why were you not at home ? THOMASO. Why, what's the matter ? SCENE ii.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 11 GUISCARDO. Blood, sirs ! CARLO. There's news ! GUISCAllDO. News ! 'Tis the common cry Of every day ! THOMASO. Yes ; but the common'st thing That affects others, hath a stranger's face When it comes home to us. Whose blood, Guiscardo? Take breath and tell us. GUISCARDO. Are you not akin To Angelo Martini ? THOMASO and STEPHANO. What of him ? GUISCARDO. His house did suffer shame last night ! his daughter ! His only child ! That force should dare assail A temple of such holy chastity ! The spoiler of her honour and her life For with her virgin jewel did he take The witness of the theft a mangled corse, Cast into the street by Angelo, who came Too late to save, but timely for revenge, Lies 'fore the father's gate, which hounds beset, More monstrous for the human forms they wear, Howling to lap the blood of Angelo ; And casting looks of savage purposes On the few friends, that, holding yet aloof, With augmentation might defy their fangs. Have you your weapons ? 12 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACTI. STEPHANO. Yes. Who goes without That walks through streets of licensed murderers? GUISCARDO. Grasp them then ! Hie ye straight to Angelo, While I unto the castle speed to move A friend's good offices to stop the fray, The favourite of the governor Fernando. And be ye resolute, comes it to more blood ! Death's nothing to the fear ! There lies the pang, And that we suffer every hour in the day. [ They go out severally. SCENE III. A Chamber in the Castle. Enter M ARTEL and Louis. MARTEL. What uproar keeps this din without the castle ? LOUIS. I know not, but the town is all astir ; Hither and thither fly the citizens. What can it mean ? MARTEL. Here's one will give the cause. [Enter AMBROSE, Well, Ambrose ? AMBROSE. Count de Marlez has been murdered, And cast into the street ! his body hack'd From head to foot. SCENE HI.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 13 MARTEL. Who did it? AMBROSE. Angelo Martini. MARTEL. Was it in a quarrel, or Did he assassinate him ? AMBROSE. I know not. This moment come I from before the house Of Angelo Martini, which the friends Of the slain Count beset, while close at hand Those of Martini wait, as if prepared To take part with the murderer ; who, the while, From open casement in the upper floor, With savage looks, holds forth a gory arm, Grasping a blade of the same ghastly hue, And, waving't o'er the body of his child, Blanch'd milk-white of her blood, and half exposed, Declares he 1 !! ne'er surrender, save a corse Mangled like his below. MARTEL. Some love affair ! Conquerors do not brook coy mistresses ! LOUIS. This falls out ominously, does it not, Upon the nuptial day? MARTEL. The nuptial hour ! Strange nuptials, sir ! It oft has moved my wonder The Governor, a stern and gloomy man, 14 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. Should so affect the young Sicilian. Is't love? I have mark'd him oft, with looks that spoke Aught but content, gazing upon Fernando Minutes together ; then, with deepest sigh, Break off the scrutiny for such it seem'd And turn to moody pondering. His daughter Were better wed, methinks, to one of France Than to a son of Sicily, of blood Unknown, and all unfriended like her bridegroom. LE CLERC (without). Prevent him ! Stop him ! GUISCARDO (without). Nay, I will pass in ! MARTEL. Suffer him, good Le Clerc ; I know him . He's Fernando's friend, and comes Doubtless to speak with him. LOUIS. How wild he looks ! AMBROSE. And spectre-like, GUISCARDO (rushing in, followed fo/ LE CLERC). Fernando ! Sirs ! Fernando ! MARTEL. Why, what's amiss? GUISCARDO. Don't question me, dear sirs ; Fernando ! MARTEL. Here he is. [Enter FERNANDO. SCENE in.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 15 GUISCARDO (catching FERNANDO by the arm). Come forth with me ! Come ! Angelo Martini ! FERNANDO (resisting ) . Stop. GUISCARDO. Nay, come ! Come ! FERNANDO. What's the matter? GUISCARDO. Read it in my looks, And save the time of telling on't ! or come And I will tell you as we go along ! Come ! FERNANDO. Hold ! you'll tear my sleeve. Do you not know It is my wedding day ? GUISCARDO. Do you not know A man call'd Angelo Martini, and Seest not he is in danger ? FERNANDO. I infer so. GUISCARDO. Thou dost ? and art not now upon the way To his house ? Thy tutor ! Angelo Martini ! 'Sdeath, art thou flesh or stone? Offer'st thou not To move ! FERNANDO. You'll find it husbandry of time To spend what's needed ; else, you save to waste. What of Martini ? 16 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. GUISCARDO. Ay ! So ! Is't the way ? Ought friends to take it leisurely in straits Where hottest speed is slow to those they love Lying in jeopardy ? Sit down, sir. Well. [Seats himself. We sit as stand we progress either way As fast. Sit down and listen. Yesternight Pray you your chair I cannot well go on Until I see you at your ease. (FERNANDO sits.) Last night, As I said, a thief not such as filches coin Was the unbidden guest of Angelo ; Chamber'd with his fair child, without her leave, As her gored breast can vouch for you ; Angelo I trust my tongue does not outstep your ear ? FERNANDO. Go on ! GUISCARDO. In good time, sir. Well ! Angelo, Waked by a shriek 'twas not without the house, But came from the quarter where his daughter couch'd And taking the strange summons with more heat Of apprehension, than will suffer one That hath the use of limb to lie abed, Or sit his chair as we do to afford The aid was needed, rush'd where he might give it, And at the door encountered him who'd made him A host without his privity or wish, Dagger in hand, sir, slinking from the bier Had been, an hour before, the virgin's bed ! FERNANDO. What followed? SCENE in.] JOHN OF PROC1DA. 17 GUISCARDO. One might guess, a blow! Yes, sir While the blood runs 'twill heat or cool upon Occasion. Yes, sir ; Angelo, our friend, A generous man, although we say it, like To exact penalty for injury Done to a common friend (and how much more An only child !) struck nor with naked hand, Nor easily contented ! Blow begot Blow, till the body of the Count FERNANDO. What Count ? GUISCARDO. The Count de Marlez. FERNANDO. Was he stabb'd by Angelo ? GUISCARDO. And stabb'd till not a palm's breadth of his body But bears the crimson seal that witnesses The glut of ravening vengeance ! as it lies In the street cast forth the casement, of whose sill Angelo makes a bier to show his child To the amaze-benumbed lookers-on. While the retainers, countrymen, and friends Of the Count assault the gate of Angelo To get at him and tear him limb from limb. The which thy timely presence had prevented. But not enough thou know'st thy friend doth need thee. Behoves his need be woven a history, And while the loom's a-going I must ply, They massacre the man who taught and loved thee ! c 18 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. FERNANDO. Go forth, my friends, and succour Angelo. Take others with you all the aid you can. Dissuade his enemies from violence. Use the Duke's name. Command them to forbear, And leave rebuke to him. ARTEL and others rush out. GUISCARDO. Go'st thou not too ? Play'st thou the friend by heartless deputy, To foil the foes that work with all their hearts ? Keep'st thou the castle when Martini's house Is made the stall of savage butchery ? Lend'st him a finger when he wants thy hand, Thy limbs, and body ? FERNANDO. 'Tis my wedding-day ; The very hour I lead my bride to church. GUISCARDO. Thou wast his son to Angelo Martini, And when thy presence would be life to him, And it is ask'd of thee, thou givest it not, But send'st him that of men who'd look with coldness, If not with joy, upon Martini's carcass ! Because thy nuptials may not be delayed ! Ached thy bride's head, would it not stop them ? or Would they go on, fell the Duke sudden sick ? Or chanced to shake Messina with a fit Of the earthquake ? or the cataracts of Etna Began to play ? But not a pause, although Thou heard'st the life blood gurgling in the throat SCENE in.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 19 Of Angelo Martini ! Fare thee well If well ingratitude did ever fare. Mingle thy blood with those, at thought of whom, Wast thou the tithe of a Sicilian, Thy blood would curdle. We were brothers once ; One mind one soul ! We now are two apart ! Disjoined ! Opposed ! Never to meet again Except to the woe of the one or other of us ! [Goes out. FERNANDO. Come back ! Fool ! Meddler ! Braggart ! ISOLINE (entering). How is this ? What dost thou with thy weapon in thy hand ? Ha ! by thy looks, it was not without need Thou drewest it ! Sweet Heaven ! I saw thee thus Last night! FERNANDO. Where, dearest? ISOLINE. In my dreams, Fernando ; That brought me naught but fearful images ! Tumults where daggers gleam'd and blood did run Along the kennels of the streets, instead Of its own channels. There, my friend, were you And I in the midst, your one arm circling me, Your other my defence 'gainst horrid men That stood around, a stride or two aloof, Like hounds, awhile at bay, prepared to spring ! Ah ! then had I a taste of death great Heavens ! The sickness on't ! Yet e'en that sickness still Sweetness, methought, to die along with thee. c 2 20 , JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT They struck you fell ! I waked while yet the room Rang with a shriek. Put up thy sword, lest now A prodigy should harrow up my soul, And drops of gore, uncalled, start on its blade ! Is'tup? FERNANDO. It is. ISOLINE. "Tis very strange, Fernando ; This is our wedding-day, and yet I feel As though we should not marry. FERNANDO. Wouldst thou then Our nuptials should be marrM ? ISOLINE. No ! Would you think 'Twas the coy maid of but a week ago That answered you so promptly ? 'Twas not quickly I learned to love you though, to do you justice, No master ever labour'd more to teach. But now, methinks, I have the lesson better By heart than you have. FERNANDO. Better ! ISOLINE. Yes, Fernando ! And so youM find, were you to slight the pupil You took such pains with once. I would not have Our nuptials marr'd and, more, they shan^t be so Have I the power to help it. SCENE HI.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 21 FERNANDO. Isoline, Thy father ! ISOLINE. Well ? Say on ; I'd hear thee say't though all the world were by. FERNANDO. I bless thee for thy bounteous love ! Enter GOVERNOR. GOVERNOR. Come, child. And on my other hand, Fernando come. The bridal company, in readiness To attend you to the altar, wait for you. [As they are going, MARTEL and Louis enter hastily. What would you, friends ? MARTEL. A word, sir, with Fernando. GOVERNOR. Be brief, then, as you may. [Leading ISOLINE off. ISOLINE (stopping and turning). Fernando ! FERNANDO. Love, A moment and I'm with you ! GOVERNOR. Isoline ! ISOLINE. I come ! the ground appears to hold my steps. [She goes out with the GOVERNOR. JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. FERNANDO. Well, friends ; were you in time ? MARTEL. To see the house Of Angelo Martini in a blaze ; Lit by his own hand, the funereal pyre Of his slain child. Whence, soon as 'twas in flames, Taking advantage of the pause in which Amaze enchained his foes, with clotted blade Did Angelo burst forth, a spectacle Of blood-congealing horror, that awhile Deprived of use the members which unless For such a frost had dealt him fifty deaths. But soon it turned to thaw, yet not until Martini's friends surrounded him ; and now Along the streets a running fight they keep, Leaving an ample, ghastly track, with blood, And here and there a body drain'd of it. FERNANDO. For mercy's sake provide you with a guard And use all pains to stop this hideous fray, And above all to save Martini's life ! Fly friends ! O spare not speed ! Do all you can This swift untimely mischief to overtake ! [MARTEL and Louis go out ; FERNANDO following. SCENE iv.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 23 SCENE IV. The outside of a Church. Enter VIRGINS strewing Flowers after the Bridal Party. CHORUS OF VIRGINS. As now the track with flowers we strew Your path of life with joys be fair ! Though wither these, no fading there ; Nor thorny care your footsteps rue. (At the end of the Singing, Tumult is heard without at a dis- tance.) GOVERNOR. What din is this that seems approaching us? LE CLERC. \_Entering hastily. My lord, take shelter in the church ! There's death In the streets. GOVERNOR. What ! Of Messina, sir ; and 1 Its governor ? Am I to slink away In fear? Swords, gentlemen ! What man is he Comes first ? who flies, yet halts, whom they in chase of Do strive, yet seem to fear, to overtake, Turning pursuit to flight whene'er he stops And shows them front? LE CLERC. 'Tis Angelo Martini. GOVERNOR. What savage deed hath made a brute of him That men become a pack, and hunt him thus ? LE CLERC. He has kuTd the Count de Marlez. 24 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. FERNANDO. Life for life ! The Count did kill his daughter. Little wrong, To wrong most grievous that preceded it. GOVERNOR. You are sure of this ? FERNANDO. I am. GOVERNOR. Succour him, sirs. FERNANDO. Too late ! MARTINI (without). Take that ! [Enters staggering, followed by GUISCARDO and others with swords drawn. full payment, slave, and prompt ! As you are Christian men, don't suffer them Hack me to death. I am wounded mortally ! (Falls.) FERNANDO. How is it, Angelo Martini ? MARTINI. Thus, Fernando, thus ! My daughter ! Where were you ? But I forgive you ! (Dies.) FERNANDO. O, look up, old man ! GUISCARDO. He sleeps too sound, Fernando, to awake ! My lord, the Governor, protection for The friends of Angelo Martini, who, With naked weapons, had not stood in the streets SCENE iv.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 25 But to protect him from foul butchery. His house did suffer violence last night, And murder in the person of his child, Now burn'd to ashes with her natal roof, Which Angelo himself in frenzy fired. He caught and slew the caitiff, for which act, By nature warranted, if not by law, Began this game of death, which we would spoil, But thus the just yet weaker side hath lost. GrOVERNOR. Though great his crime first slain, the blood so shed Was French ! Moreover, it was noble ! Look Yourselves to your lives I will not answer for them Beyond Messina. Hence, and sheathe your blades. Marks are upon them that offend our eyes, And breed you danger. GUISCARDO. Are we safe the while ? GOVERNOR. You are, but quit Messina. Guard them to The outskirts of the town. GUISCARDO. Fernando, speak. Look there. Your bridal flowers have gone, you see, To deck a bloody bier. So fare thy joys ! [_Goes out with others guarded. GOVERNOR. Remove the body. In our way it lies. JSOLINE. Nay, father ; sooner let us go about ! 26 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. GOVERNOR. Come on, then. PROCIDA (coming from the back of the stage). Stop. The rites must not proceed, GOVERNOR. They have not yet begun ! PROCIDA. Nor must begin. GOVERNOR. Who shall prevent them ? PROCIDA. Heaven. In the name of which I charge you to desist. GOVERNOR. Your reasons? PROCIDA. Those The bridegroom shall be told ; for him They most regard. FERNANDO. Impart them, then ! PROCIDA. Not here. GOVERNOR. You juggle with us ! PROCIDA. No ; the part I act Is honest. GOVERNOR. You are a religious man ? PROCIDA. A man devoted to a holy cause. Young man, let go that hand and come with me. SCENE iv.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 27 ISOLINE. Is this the dark fulfilling of my dream ? Respect you, my Fernando, what he says ? FERNANDO. His tone, his words, his looks, his gestures, all Declare authority. ISOLINE. O, do not go ! PROCIDA. He must, would he escape my curse, which here On him, and all who hold alliance with him, I shall invoke, resisting my commands. GOVERNOR. You dare not do it ! PROCIDA. Dare not ! listen then ISOLINE. Peace ! drop my hand and go. PROCIDA. She bids thee go. Come. ISOLINE. Go, Fernando ! PROCIDA. Mark, again she bids thee. Why shouldst thou hesitate ? The cause is thine, And thou thyself art constituted judge. I hope thou 'rt a brave man, and not afraid To trust thyself with me. If idly, or On slight pretence I interpose, thou knowest Thou canst come back, and then the rites go on. So mayst thou gain thy bride, and 'scape my curse. 28 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT i. ISOLINE. Shall he come back in any case ? PROCIDA. He shall. ISOLINE. Go ! go ! Fernando. PROCIDA. That is the third time She bade thee go. FERNANDO. I follow ! PROCIDA. Come along. [PROCIDA and FERNANDO go out. ISOLINE faints in her fathers arms, as the latter disappears. END OF ACT FIRST. SCKNE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 29 ACT II. SCENE I. A Mountain Pass. Etna in the distance. Enter PROCIDA and FERNANDO. PROCIDA. LOOK up. What seest thou? FERNANDO. Etna. PROCIDA. Where stands Etna? FERNANDO. In Sicily. PROCIDA. Then this is Sicily, Where Etna stands, and thou look'st up to it. And yet, methinks, thou knowest not thou stand'st In Sicily. FERNANDO. I know it as well as thou. PROCIDA. Deny it, then ! Tell him who says thou stand'st there He is mistaken ! Rather say thou stand'st In any other isle that spots the sea; And give thy oath to it, though Etna there, Before thee, should break silence at the lie, And bellow forth 'Tis Sicily thou stand'st in ! " FERNANDO. Beware ! young blood is hot. 30 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT ir. PROCIDA. Behoves it, then, Beware it runs no peril from its heat. Young blood is generous, too ! not always ! then Its heat is virtue bringing virtue forth, As sun the healthful plant in stronger flower. Its heat is as the thing it acts upon, As summer in the garden genders fruit, But in the swamp breeds poison. Know me, sir, So far. I wear a sword ! (throws off his gown) Now, of thy Why should I stand in fear? [heat, FERNANDO. Lest thou offend Mine honour ! PROCIDA. Show it me, I'll not offend it ; Else I offend mine own. If I gainsay The square, the plummet, or the level, what Shall I gain credence for ? I am a fool Or knave. I either know not ; or deny, Yet know. But honour is the name as well As thing, and with the thing not always goes, But serves a spurious owner, as the stamp Of gold at times is given to base coin. The gambler that will load a die, will cut Your throat, so you dare tell him onH for honour ! The libertine who uses, for your shame, Your hospitable trust a felon, worse Than he who filches purses with his sword Demands your blood, if you impugn his honour ! Whence, with a coward world, the bully lust SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. . 31 Hath gracious entertainment at the hands Which hold the custody of maidens' snow, And never question'd matrons. What do you say To the honour of a traitor false at once To his liege lord and country ? taking part With their arch, pitiless, contentless foes ? Shall such a man have honour ? Ay, shall he so, Hath he the bloodhound^s quality to vouch The barefaced lie a truth ! FEENANDO. Thou lovest danger ! PROCIDA. No, I love virtue, sir, and fear not danger. Art thou Sicilian ? FERNANDO. Yes. PROCIDA. Sicilian born ? F Ell NAN DO. Yes. PROCIDA. In the mountain island first drew breath ? FERNANDO. Yes. PROCIDA. Art thou sure ? Where saw'st thou first the sun, To know him as thou recollectest ? FERNANDO. In Messina. PROCIDA. Knowest thou the history Of this thy native land? Who was her king When first thou madest acquaintance with the sun, 32 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT 11. The blessed sun God gave thee leave to see When he vouchsafed thee draw the breath of life In Sicily ? FERNANDO. Why Manfred then was king. PROCIDA. What came of him ? FERNANDO. He lost his crown. PROCIDA. 'Tis false ! FERNANDO (aside). What power hath this mysterious man That while he chafes me thus, I thus forbear ! PROCIDA. Were one to take thy purse from thee by force, Wouldst say that thou hadst lost it ? Thou wouldst say That thou wast robb'd of it. So Manfred was Robb'd of his crown. Lost it ! Who say you now Is king of Sicily ? FERNANDO. Charles of Anjou. PROCIDA. That's false Again ! Charles of Anjou is usurper And not a king not king of Sicily. Manfred was slain in battle, was he not? FERNANDO. He was. PROCIDA. He was. He died as became a king Defending his own crown against the robber Who wrench'd it from his brow. You answer well. SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 33 You know your country's history. What next ? Who folio w'd in the strife ? Who struggled next With the arch felon? held his throat to him For it was nothing else, with powers so broken Ere he would tamely be a looker-on, And see him wear the spoil ? FERNANDO. Conradine. PROCIDA. Yes! The chivalrous, the patriotic prince ! He took the cause up but he lost the day. FERNANDO. And with the day his life. PROCIDA. How ? Can't you tell ? Know you so far the tragedy so well, And do you halt at the catastrophe Which brings the crowning horror of the whole ? The Prince was taken captive taken alive Whole ! without scaith ! No wound, the matter even Of a pin's scratch ! Now mark the freebooter In Charles of Anjou him thou namedst now The King of Sicily. Mark now how blood And plunder go together like sworn friends Conradine was a captive. What had he done ? What Charles himself had done in such a case, And had a right so to have done, were he A saint and not a robber. Fought for the crown Of his forefathers ! What could Conradine That Charles need fear ? He was bound hand and foot. 34 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACTII. He was as one that's bedridden ! that's struck With a palsy ! Charles had just as much to fear From Conradine as from an infant in the cradle. What did he to him ? He beheaded him ! FERNANDO. 'Twas sacrilege i PROCIDA. 'Twas murder ! murder, sir ! Murder and sacrilege ! Conradine met the scaffold In his own kingdom, like a host that's butchered In his own house, by thieves ! Now mark, young man, How bruised, broken, lost in fortunes, still The noble spirit to the last bears up And towers above its fate. Beside the block, Within the axe's glare, yet would not he Give up his righteous cause, but from his hand His gauntlet drew and flung into the space 'Twixt him and those who came to see him die. " For Jesu' sake," he cried, " who loves me there Pick up my gage, and with it take the charge A dying man gives with his parting breath, That he present it to that kinsman of My house who takes its rightful quarrel up, And whom with all my rights I here invest !" I see the story somewhat touches thee. FERNANDO. I never heard it told so well before. Wast thou a stander by ? PROCIDA. I was. What then ? FERNANDO. Didst thou pick up the gage? SCENEI.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 35 PROCIDA. Wouldst thou have done it ? FERNANDO. I would. PROCIDA. And wherefore ? FERNANDO. Out of pity for That murdered king. PROCIDA. What! Given thy private cares, Hopes, havings, up, to consecrate thy life To his most desperate cause his throne usurp'd ! His land o'errun ! his people scatter'd, that Together not so many hang as one Might call a broken troop ! So seeming-lost A cause as that, at cost so dear hadst thou Embraced, and ta'en the gauntlet up ? FERNANDO. I had ! PROCIDA (taking a glove from his breast). There 'tis ! There ! as I plucked it from the scaffold foot ! The look that martyr cast upon me then, It shed more healing unction on my soul, Than fifty thousand masses at my death Could do, each chanted by as many lips, And all of holy men. Now mark how Right, Although, at setting out, a dwarf in thews, By holding on will gather sinew, till It moves that giant Might. With seconding, Levies, munitions, allies, subsidies None other than this empty glove, I went From Sicily ; where now I stand again, D 2 36 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT n. With monarchs and their kingdoms at my back, The sworn abettors of the righteous hand Which, fleshless, tendonless, reduced to bone, Its holy cause with life thus clothes again, And arms with retribution. That same hand Once fill'd this glove, which now I hold to thee. Take it. FERNANDO. For what ? r ROC i DA. To swear by it. FERNANDO. The oath ? PROCIDA. Death to the Gaul whoever he be, that now Has footing in the land ! Death without pause Of ruth eye, ear, be stone to voice or look Of deprecation ! Once your blade is out. While there's a tyrant's heart to lend a sheath, Never to let it know its own ! FERNANDO. That oath I will not take. PROCIDA. Thou wilt not ? ThouVt a traitor ! FERNANDO. Ha! PROCIDA. ThouVt a coward ! FERNANDO (drawing}. Try if I fear death ! PROCIDA. Death is a little thing to brave or fear. SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 37 Except a thought of the after reckoning, The which to fear becomes, not shames a man : 'Tis but a plunge and over, ta'en as oft By the feeble as the stout. Give me the man That's bold in the right too bold to do the wrong. Not bold as that, thou art a traitor still And coward ! FERNANDO. Draw! PROCIDA. For what ? To pleasure thee ? To place myself on base equality With one whom I look down upon ? FERNANDO. Or draw, Or I will spurn thee. PROCIDA. Villain, to thy knee ! FERNANDO. My knee ! PROCIDA. What ! fear'st thou degradation ? How Can he crouch lower than he does who kneels To his own weaknesses, when Duty bids him Stand up and take the manly post becomes him At the side of Virtue. Were thy mother she That bore thee in her womb in fetters, how Wouldst deal with those that put them on ? Wouldst talk And laugh with them shake hands with them embrace them? " Thou wouldst not !" But I tell thee, slave, thou wouldst. For what's thy country, be she not thy mother, And like a mother loved by thee ? Thou slave, 38 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT n. That seekest kindred with thy country's foes ! Hast thou a father ? FERNANDO. Draw ! PROCIDA. Hast thou a father ? FERNANDO. But with my 'sword's point will I answer thee ! PROCIDA. Hast thou a father, boy ? FERNANDO. Hast thou a hand ? Behoves that it be quick, and seek thy sword ! Thy life's in danger ! * PROCIDA. Hast thou a father, still I say to thee ? FERNANDO. Thy sword or I'm upon thee ! PROCIDA. Then wilt thou have a murder on thy soul, For from my stand I will not budge an inch, Nor move, so far, my arm to touch my sword, Until thou answer'st me. Hast thou a father ? FERNANDO (bursting into tears). No, no! thou churlish, harsh, remorseless man That bait'st me with thy coarse and biting words, As boors abroad let loose unmuzzled dogs Upon a tether'd beast ! my arm withheld By thy defencelessness, that hast defence At hand, but will not use it who art thou To use me thus? to do me shameful wrong And then deny me means to right myself? SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 39 What have I done to thee to use my heart As if its strings were thine to strain or rend ! Thou mak'st my veins hot with my boiling blood, And not content, thou followest it up, Mine eyes inflaming with my scalding tears, Thou landless, ruthless man ! Hast thou a father ? I never knew one ! PROCIDA (aside). I thank God ! FERNANDO. Thou hadst A father hadst a father's training O How blest the son that hath. O Providence, What is there like a father to a son ? A father, quick in love, wakeful in care, Tenacious of his trust, proof in experience. Severe in honour, perfect in example, StampM with authority ! Hadst such a father ? I knew no training, save what fostering Did give me, in the mood ; and was bestowM Like bounty to a poor dependant ; which He might take or leave. Those who protected me Were masters of my native land, not sons. How could I learn the patriot's lofty lesson ? They told me Sicily had given me birth, But then they taught me also I was son To a contentless and ungracious mother. And they were kind to me. What wouldst thou have Of a young heart, but what you'd ask of wax To take the first impression given to it ? Except that, unlike wax, it is not quick 40 JOHN OF PROC1DA. [ACT n. What once it takes to render up again. rnociDA (aside). O, my poor boy ! FERNANDO. If thou badst a father, 7 Twas cruel, knowing that thou wast so rich, To taunt me, where, knew'st not that I was poor, Thou mightst at least suspect my poverty. How had I loved my father ! He had had The whole of my heart. I would have given it him As a book to write in it whatever he would. I never had gainsaid him never run Counter to him. I had copied him, as one A statue doth of the rare olden virtue, In jealous, humble imitation. I had lived to pleasure him. Before I had Disgraced him, I had died. PROCIDA (aside). My son ! My son ! FERNANDO. Thou weep'st ! O Heaven ! PROCIDA. Thou wast made captive in A stormed hold. FERNANDO. I was. < PROCIDA. That hold belonged To John of Procida. FERNANDO. Ilrdid. SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCTDA. 41 >- PROCIDA. 'Twas storm'd And taken, in his absence. FERNANDO. So 'tis said. PROCIDA. That John of Procida had then a son Just four years old. FERNANDO. That age was mine, I have heard, When first the Governor adopted me. PROCIDA. There was no other child within the castle. FERNANDO. Was there not ? PROCJDA. No! FERNANDO. I must have been that child ! PROCIDA. Upon his right fore-arm he bore a mark. FERNANDO. Yes; here! PROCIDA. Yes ; in the very place thou point'st to. FERNANDO. I am the son of John of Procida ! , PROCIDA. Thou art ; and I am John of Procida. FERNANDO (falling on his knee). Father ! PROCIDA. My son ! -My boy! My child I left 42 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT n. *> At four years old and thought was dead ! FERNANDO. Thou own'st'me ? PROCIDA. Own thee ! Ay ! Look at me and tell me, boy, Dost thou not see thy father ? FERNANDO. Yes ! Thy looks Are words of love that call me from thy feet Up to thy arms. PROCIDA. Up to them, then ! FERNANDO (rising, and throwing himself into the arms of PROCIDA). My father ! PROCIDA. O, my son ! FERNANDO. What shall I do? PROCIDA. What mean you ? FERNANDO. What shall I do? Give me the glove ! PROCIDA. My son ! FERNANDO. The gauntlet of The martyr king ! PROCIDA. There ! Stop ! Not now, my son ; I find thee quick in the affection Thou owest me, and which, like a new spring Just struck upon, doth bubble richly up And run an ample torrent. No, my son ; SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 43 I will not take advantage of the burst To let it hurry thee along with it. A sudden change and violent, is scarce A lasting one. Thou mightst repent it. No ; 111 prove thee ere thou join'st the holy cause. Thou to Messina shalt return once more, Before thou see'st her free. My word was given. Thou art a man. Men that uphold the name Act, not from impulse, but reflection. Declare thy meditated nuptials things Thy duty to thy neighbour and thy God Compels thee to abandon. Then come back, From every let released, and take the oath, And live the son of John of Procida. FERNANDO. When I can say thy first behest is done, I'll show myself to thee. Farewell ! [Goes out. PROCIDA. Farewell ! How suddenly his visage brightened up, At mention of returning to Messina. What speed is there ! Is't all on my account ? Now he is gone my heart misgives me. What Have I done ? Why do we pray that we be spared Temptation, but that 'tis a whirlpool, which, Once we're within its vortex, draws us in And sucks us down to ruin Charybdis like ! Which of the huge war-galley makes as light, As boat, compared to that, a cockle-shell ! Whence should all men that love their souls beware 44 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT n. Temptation. I will call him back ! He is out Of hearing. Should his love for her be strong ? I did not note if she was very fair. But souls were never made for eyes to read, And there lies woman's beauty. If she loves Strongly and O how strongly woman loves The force of two hearts must he struggle with. I '11 trust in Heaven ! Alas ! how many men Do trust in Heaven, when they betray themselves ! If he's my son! I talk with fifty years For counsellors! O, it was oversight, Preposterous in a father ! If I have found My son to lose him best I ne'er had found him. Yet ere I lose him I will risk my life Risk all except the sacred cause I'm sworn to. [Goes out. END OF ACT SECOND. SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCTDA. 45 ACT III. SCENE I. Isolines Chamber. Enter GOVERNOR and ISOLINE. GOVERNOR. THUS, save the nature of the grievous wrong Which on my conscience weighs which to repair I to Fernando would have wedded thee, Will wed thee still, comes he to claim thy hand Of all have I possess'd thee : who he is ; The mortal enmity his father bears me ; The public foe join'd to the private one; His hatred of our race, love for his own ; Devotion to the dynasty, held sway In Sicily ere France supplanted it ; Hopes to make head again ; efforts, intrigues With foreign powers to raise up foes to France. That he, whose presence stopped the rites to-day, May act in concert with the Procida, Though past the scope of probability, Lies within that of chance; for, though Fernando Knows not his parentage, yet accident May have reveal'd the son to Procida. View then these nuptials thus. If solemnised, Joy not without regrets if frustrated, Regrets with yet their solaces. 46 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT in. ISOLINE. I will, sir. GOVERNOR. Do so; and so good night. Another word. Set not thy heart on seeing him again ; He never may return. Or say he should, Expect him to depart and come no more. You mark ? ISOLINE. I do, sir. GOVERNOR. Now good night again. \_Goes out. ISOLINE. What, Marguerite ! Come hither, Marguerite. Hast done it ? (To MARGUERITE, who enters.} MARGUERITE. He is in the oratory. ISOLINE. I thank the holy man. He will remain there ? MARGUERITE. Ay, madam. ISOLINE. He was ever good to me. Fernando will return to-night I know He will. My heart doth prophesy he will, And lovers' hearts a strange foreknowledge have, Though they read not the stars. That's he ! Go, look ! (MARGUERITE goes out.) O, that this hour were past ! Alas, 'tis thus We wish us ever nearer to our graves, With fear of this, and with desire for that, SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 47 Flying from one thing, following another, As rushing from the very thing itself For which we pray, towards that we pray against ! Knew I the moment ay, the very moment I wedded him I should be spouse to death, Away with life ! at once he should be mine ! Enter MARGUERITE. MARGUERITE. 'Tis not Fernando. ISOLINE. Keep upon the watch. [^MARGUERITE goes out He shall be mine ! Shall private enmities On others' parts set bars ""twixt those that love ? Make of two hearts, grown one, -two hearts again Distinct and alienate ? Or rather for Judging mine own Fernando's heart by mine, That can't be done untwine two lives, which love Has drawn together till they grow like tendrils, Knotted and inter wreathed, that without bruising You cannot part them may be killing them ? It should not be and shall not. Now the chances ? No let can I divine to sway Fernando, Except that father, yet he knows not of, And whom, new found, new feelings welcoming, Will at the moment large surrender make, Haply at cost of love itself ! What then ! Love that is steadfast brooks not sacrifice. It may submit a while ; but, in the end, It ever claims its own the paramount Of all affections ! So, his love, at first 48 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT in. O'ercome, anon will vindicate itself. Whereto no weak retreating, no false shame On the part of mine, shall offer hindrance to me, From giving't all my help. Enter MARGUERITE. MARGUERITE. I hear a step. ISOLINE. Goseeifitbehis. (MARGUERITE^^OM^.) Why should I blush To own mine honest love? Is love a thing To blush for? Love! the sacred root of all The household pure affections, things of truth And piety next what we owe to Heaven. Love that makes friendship poor that mocks enhancement Itself possession endless ! That's example Of loyalty ! Its master better served Than monarchs on their thrones, his throne himself! That more abounds in sunshine of content, Than destiny in clouds to quench the light. Whole in itself! Love, that is chastity Of more than vestal perfectness ! The world For choice, yet one with leave of Heaven selecting And giving all the rest to negligence ! As the refiner the alloy, when once He finds the extracted gold. He shall be mine ! The maid that's not stanch stickler for her love Hath little on ? t to strive for. She may smile Scornful good-bye, and turn upon her heel ; Forget and love again ; or think she does For by the love I feel she knows not love. My lovers a heap takes all my heart to hold, As rich as large, and shan't be cast away. SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 47 FERNANDO. Never didst thou reflect that I was born In Sicily ? ISOLINE. I know thou'rt a Sicilian. FERNANDO. Didst ne'er reflect upon it ? ISOLINE. To what end Should I reflect ? FERNANDO. To spurn me as a man Devoid of honour! ISOLINE. Who dares call thee so ? FERNANDO. He who dares speak the truth. Thou know'st thou must The wrongs my country suffers ! ISOLINE. Yes : I know She suffers wrongs. I have wept for them, Fernando. FERNANDO. Have you ? Have you wept for them ? I have heard them Without a tear ! Am I a man of honour ? ISOLINE. What good were it to weep ? FERNANDO. None but to feel As you could weep and then, with manlier thought, Let fiery revenge instead of pity 58 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT in. Start into your eye and look the wronger dead ! That that were good. It were becoming, too, In one who owes his birth to Sicily. I have not done so ! O, I have play'd a part Most mean and spiritless! Have proffer'd smiles Where it behoved me to hurl frowns ! exchanged Kind speech for curses, and grip'd hands with men, With whom, had I clash' d daggers, I had done The proper thing ! What must men think of me ? Is there a lip I know, which, did it speak The heart of the owner, would not curl at me? O, God ! to be despised ! regarded as A thing, the man who understood himself Would use his foot to ! To despise one's self ! That's it ! The scorn of all the world beside I could endure, had I mine own content. But that is lost. No man can call me worse Than I do know myself. ISOLINE. Fernando FERNANDO. Nay! Suffer me speak, for it relieves my heart ! And as you love me which I know you do Do not gainsay me ! I am a wretch more fit To die than live ! and yet not fit to die ! For of all sins that on their heads men bear, The heaviest, because the instrument Of widest injury, are those which they Commit against their country. I am fit For nothing but a beacon to point out SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 59 The rock whereon my honour suffered wreck That other men's may 'scape it. ISOLINE. Was that rock Thy love for me ? FERNANDO. Love? Love? What do I know Of love ? Where is the love I ought to bear My country ? Love ? It is a holy passion ! Generous ! exalted ! with integrity. Lasting as adamant ! He can know nothing Of love like that who does not love his country ! ISOLINE. Lov'st thou not me ? FERNANDO. Old Angelo Martini ! ISOLINE. Lov'st thou not me ? FERNANDO. Angelo, my old master, Who taught me how to guard a life, and take one, Was murderM yesterday, because he slew A miscreant the foulest in the list Of Infamy's pernicious sons ! Was hunted Like a wild beast that's from a thicket sprung By dogs, and chased for sport ! I might have saved him, And didn't ! Why ? Because my heart was rotten ! I owed him manly knowledge kindness love. He loved me as his son. I suffer'd them To hunt him ! worry him to death ! I did. Am I a man at all ? 60 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT HI. ISOLINE. Lovest thou not me ? FERNANDO. Ay, Tsoline, as much As such a wretch can love ! Love thee ? I do, And holily if holy thing can dwell In most unhallow'd habitation. Love thee ? How dare I love thee ? Temple as thou art Of tenderness, and chastity, and truth ; Truth most ingenuous ! Is it thy arms I should aspire to ? Thine, my Isoline ! "Whose foot ne'er spurn'd from thee a thing so base As that which now, in utter misery, I cast before it. [Dashing himself upon the ground. ISOLINE. Rise, Fernando, rise, My lord my love ! What has afflicted thee To this severe extremity ? Fernando ! Thou scarest me ! This passion hath no reason ! 'Tis wantonness of frenzy ! Dost thou hear me ? If not thyself, dear love consider me ! That's right ! that's kind ! Give me thy hand and rise. I dream'd not this. Thank Heaven you're calmer 1 O I thought I loved thee all that I could love, But now I find my love, disdaining bounds, Is endless and unfathomable. Now I find I loved thee but a little, and With that remain'd contented ; never dreaming How misery endears, and what a heap Of love was yet to come in company With thy affliction. What shall I do for thee? SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 61 I am thy bane ! a blight a canker to thee ! Shall I die ? [Plucks a dagger from his girdle. FERNANDO. Hold !- Stop ! Nay let my dagger go ! ISOLINE. You have grip'd hands, you said, with those with whom You ought to have clash'd daggers, and 'twas done For me ! Don't hurt me, dear Fernando ! There ! [Lets go the dagger. FERNANDO. Are you mad ? ISOLINE. No ! Calm as you are you^ shall see. [_Goes to the door, and throws it open. The door is free ! The first, the last embrace ! And go ! FERNANDO. Part ? Never ! Thou art in my arms ! Be this embrace the knot unites us ever ! Come woe ! come death ! come every kind of bane ! Thou pattern of devotion ! Thou true woman ! Thou ruby worth a mine, and fitly set ! Which is the way ? Where bides the holy man ? Is that the portal to the oratory ? What means thy cheek by dropping on my breast? Does it say " Yes " ? Hold up, mine own dear love, And come along. We'll kneel to Heaven to-night, And trust to it for to-morrow. Come, love, come. [ They go out. END OF ACT THIRD. 62 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. ACT IV. SCENE I. A Chamber in the Castle. Enter LE CLERC and FRANCOIS. FRANCOIS. I NEVER saw a feast resembled it ! LE CLERC. Liker a mourning, sir, where people wake The dead ; and to my thought, the bridegroom was The corse ; the body whence the soul had fled ; And whereupon the bride look'd vacantly Like widow at her husband on a bier, In whose deep woe the signs are swallowed up, While those around look on and show they grieve ! FRANCOIS. When were their nuptials solemnized? LE CLERC. Last night, And very privately. You did not know You are but new arrived from Syracuse? FRANCOIS. Only in time to see the festival, If I may call it so, in honour of them. LE CLERC. You know not then their nuptials were appointed For yesterday were on the very eve Of taking place ; nor what prevented them ? SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. G3 FRANCOIS. No. LE CLERC. This way, then, and t will tell you. Here Are company might interrupt us. Come ! [They go out. Enter MARTEL and AMBROSE. MARTEL. Abstraction of that hue ne'er saw I yet In one so high in favour with good fortune ! Excess of happiness, like that of grief, Will palsy feeling, till the owner seems not To know how hugely blest he is ; but still Some token shows the nature of the lapse. Here, none. Within the table's breadth of him I sat, and marked him. 'Twas not feasting, sir ; He seemed as he were jealous of the viands, Like one upon his guard 'gainst poisonM meats. He did not eat, but taste ; while, at his side, His bride whose eyes, purveyors never weary Of catering for their lord, did range and range The table over, to select for him Whatever was daintiest with busy lips, Like pages who their errands blushing tell, Did ever and anon commend to him The well-selected cheer, but all in vain. AMBROSE. I craved his leave to pledge him in a cup. He took the cup ; but, straight its use forgetting, Began to pore upon the rich contents : Then, as a thing one does mechanically, Raising it to his lip, without the due 64 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. And custom'd courtesy, he quaff 'd it off And set it down again. M ARTEL. Remarked you not How strainingly he fixM upon the door His eyes, whene'er it chanced to open, as He look'd for one to enter, he had rather Should keep away ? AMBROSE. That struck me very much, And brought to mind the unwelcome visitor, Broke in upon his nuptials yesterday. MARTEL. So was't with me. For him, or some one like him, Be sure he look'd, with more of certainty Than doubt. The bride and bridegroom, and alone ! Let us withdraw nor mar their privacy. \They go out. Enter FERNANDO and ISOLINE. FERNANDO. You are right, my love ; the grape is generous, And, used in the wise proportion, cheers the heart, ISOLINE. You are better ! are you not ? FERNANDO. Much ! very much ! JSOLINE. O, blessed union that of two makes one ! Could I, dear love, have bought the world just now By paying down for it one hearty smile, I must have lost the bargain, seeing thee Without one ! It was otherwise before ! SCENEI.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 65 How often have I smiled at that same want ! But, now, comes o'er your looks the slightest cloud, All light of mine is gone. Fernando ! Love ! Is it not sweetest partnery ? FERNANDO. It is. ISOLINE. It is, indeed, my love ! Say as I do ! It is, indeed, most sweet ! FERNANDO. Indeed it is. Was't not the castle portal open'd now ? I know its ponderous sound ! 'Tis shut again ! Yes ; it was it ! ISOLINE. Whom look you for, dear love ? All your good spirits gone ? FERNANDO. No, Isoline ; Not all of them ! not half ! not any of them ! We'll spend the evening joyously, dear love ! Out-do the god of merriment himself; And when he's out of laughter lend him some And still ourselves hold on ! Who^s there ? Enter EUGENE and OTHERS. EUGENE. My lord, We are passing to the ball-room. FERNANDO. Pray pass on. And keep the measure up ! EUGENE. We will, my lord. {Going out with others. 66 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. FERNANDO. That's right ; and so will I ! ISOLINE. So do, dear love ! For me ! Your Isoline ! your bride ! your wife ! FERNANDO. You are my wife ! The treasure of my heart Is treasure of my arms ! Who is rich as I, And says he is not happy ? Then is he Beyond the ministering of content. And be despair his portion ! I am not A man like that. ISOLINE. My love, this cheer makes sad. FERNANDO. Makes sad ? ISOLTNE. It is not of the kind gives cheer. It wants a quiet. FERNANDO. Wants a quiet ? Here Lay on my brow this white and velvet hand Thou gavest me yesterday. ISOLINE. It burns, dear love ; And yet how pale it is ! FERNANDO. I have seen a man In fever he did burn, and yet was pale Pale as a corpse. ISOLINE. Thou hast no fever ? SCENE i.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 67 FERNANDO. No. The cup has pass'd too often to my lips Not much only a time or two ! What proves A spark to one, another finds a fire. Don't heed it, dearest life ! Heaven, what a hand ! Were it ethereal, yet were given to sense, What could be spared of it, or added to it ? [It does ! Shape ? No ! Hue ? No ! Touch ? No ! Does it breathe ? The airs of Heaven ! I will inhale them nearer ! \_Kissing her hand. ISOI.INE. You flatter, dearest lord ! FERNANDO. No, by my love. ISOLINE. Yea, by your love, indeed, dear lord, you do ! You are a culprit, who for witness calls The arch accomplice that would swear him off. FERNANDO. By all (Louis enters.) Ha ! 'Sdeath,you tread on tiptoe, You are at my elbow ere I think you there ! [sir, LOUIS. Your pardon ! I was musing, sir, and thus Moved slow. 'Tis strange ! but in the ball-room, now, One cross'd me in a mask, and made me start, By something in his carriage and his form Resembling one I must have met, but where I cannot recollect. Whoe'er it was, A fearful feeling that cross'd o'er my heart Assures me 'twas no friend. F2 68 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. FERNANDO. What ? Seem'd he old Or young ? LOUIS. Men's figures do not tell their years Well as their faces do ; yet would I say, Guessing thereby his progress on life's road, He was more near the end than setting out. FERNANDO. Commanding in his air ? LOUIS. Very. FERNANDO. His gait Of most assured tread ? LOUIS. As he did spurn The ground he walk'd on. He and I have met, But when, or where, or upon what occasion, I can't recal, nor rest until I do. Farewell, and pardon me. 'Tis very strange ! [Goes out. ISOLINE (to FERNANDO, who is lost in thought). Dear husband, what is it possesses you? FERNANDO. Nothing ! ISOLINE. O, love, be honest ! It is best Always. If evil comes of it, at worst We have been honest that will comfort us. Come ! I will show you, what I teach, I do. I don't believe our union will be blest. . SCENE ii.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 69 Y ou start ! and you yourself did tell me so, And now I tell it you ! I don't believe it. What then ? Do I repent our union ? No ! My heart has had its wish I am thy wife. Knew I that I should die the very moment The priest should bless us and declare us one, I had married thee and yielded up my spirit, Thanking the gracious Heavens, most bountiful, Which for that little moment made thee mine. Then cheer thee, love ; and be assured of this Were we to live the three-score years and ten, And then to die, being what now we are, We could not die more happy. Lose not now With care for ly-and-by, whatever may come ; But leave 't with trust to Heaven ! , FERNANDO. I'll do thy will ! I'll be myself! The ball-room ! Come, love, come ! SCENE II. A Ball-Room. FERNANDO, ISOLINE, and OTHERS, discovered) A Dance. FERNANDO. Surely the lightsomest, most graceful form, And act of merriment ! I'd give the world To have the mood of him who danced just now. How he did seem to poise him in the air, 70 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. As he could hang there at his will, by which Alone he seemM to come to earth again ! He did not spring, but fly, from step to step ! With joints that had not free-er playM, methinks, Were hinges made of air and theirs were such ! Yet could they plant themselves, I warrant me, To meet a shock ! These spirits are fine things, Subtle as quicksilver; only they freeze Sooner than water ; one cold breath, and ice ! 1SOLINE. "Will you not dance? FERNANDO. No. ISOLINE. 'Tis expected, love, Upon your nuptial day. FERNANDO. I would not dance. ISOLINE. No more would I, dear love, to please myself ; But we must help the mirth that's made for us, And else will flag, and die. A feast, in this, Is like a fray, wherein the side is lost Whose leader is not foremost, cheering it. For my sake only ! I must bear the blame Seem you to lack content. They will believe You do repent you of your bargain, love. Would you like that ? What had you done a month Ago, had I refused to dance with you ? How had you look'd as all the world were lost ; Urged me again again ; at every turn Your voice yet more attuning to the tone SCENE ii.] JOHN OF PROC1DA. 71 That melts ; invoking me in the dear name Of pity and whate'er is kin to her. I had heard, in these things, marriage turns the tables, And she that once was woo'd must come to woo, But little dream'd to find it out so soon. FERNANDO. Sweet love, we'll dance ! Thy fair hand give to me, And, with it, give thy pardon. 1SOL1NE. There, Fernando. A set ! a set ! The bride and bridegroom's set ! Partners ! Your fair friends, gentlemen a set To try the breath ! Ho, music there ! a strain Of brilliant figure ! (PnociDA, in the dress of a cavalier, and masked, appears opposite to FERNANDO, who at once recognises him.) MARTEL. Hear you, sirs ? The bride Commands the dance your very newest strain, So 'tis the choicest, too. We are ready, madam, So please you take your place. ISOLINE. Fernando, what's The matter ! Who is he you gaze upon ? Do you know him ? FERNANDO. Don't you recollect him ? ISOLINE. No Not in that mask. Who is he ? FERNANDO. Never mind. 72 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. ISOLINE.. His presence troubles you ! Whoe'er he is Til have him straight remov'd. FERNANDO. Not for the world ! He wants me ! ISOLINE. Let him wait till by-and-by ! I'll speak to him myself and pray him go, And come some other time. FERNANDO. Stay, Isoline! 1 would not for a mine thou spokest to him ! I "11 speak to him myself! ISOLTNE. Remember, love, The dance is waiting. FERNANDO. Were't a King that waited, He must, until I spoke to him that's yonder ! Where can I take him to ? to be alone ? ISOLINE. The garden. FERNANDO. Right ! When we have made an end, By the west door he can depart unseen. ISOLINE. O, husband ! FERNANDO. Let me have my way in this, For I must ! Look, love ! Not surer to thy wrist Is knit thy hand than I am knit to tliee ! n.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 73 They cannot sever us, but I must perish ! So now, no let, love, if you value me ! ISOLINE. Our friends, who look for us FERNANDO. He looks for me ! Women, they say, are at invention quick Prove it so now, and never more be need ; And be my sweet apologist. [Crosses to PROCIDA. Say naught, But follow me ! [PROCIDA and FERNANDO disappear among the Company. ISOLINE. Your pardon, friends, I pray you. One, in some case of keenest urgency, That needs my husband's presence, takes him hence. Pray you proceed. I'll play the looker-on 'Till he repairs his fault to you and me, Taking his promised place. The music, there ! A Dance. LOUIS (entering hastily}. Break off the dance ! An enemy is here ! Lady, I have recalFd the name of him Whose presence struck me so unwelcomely A foe, the subtlest and most powerful That France could find in Sicily ! When lately On mission from the King I did sojourn At the court of Spain, came thither a Sicilian With charges foul 'gainst France, and praying aid 74 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. To second some great blow, lie said, the friends Of Sicily did meditate. That man Was he whose form came o'er my spirits like An apparition, even now his name Is John di Procida ! I have alarm'd The guard ; apprised your father of his danger, And search is now on foot which all must join. [ The Company at once disperse in various directions occasionally passing to and fro in the Back Ground. ISOLINE. Ambrose ! Le Clerc ! Sirs, you are men of honour. You know me, too, a woman of that kin. You'll do my bidding, whatsoe'er it is ? AMBROSE and LE CLERC. Yes ; by these tokens. [Kissing the hilts of their swords. ISOLINE. Good sirs, follow me ! [ They go out. SCENE III. The Garden of the Castle. Enter PROCIDA and FERNANDO. FERNANDO. Now, sir, your will with me? PROCIDA. That's right ! I am glad Thou darest not call me father ! 'Tis a sign SCENE in.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 75 Thou hast a sense of shame, and that's a virtue, Although a poor one, fitter far to weep at Than smile at. You have done your father's will ? You are ready for that oath ? FERNANDO. Til not deny My disobedience, sir. PROCIDA. You'll not deny? You can't ! You have married her ! Yet, if my son, Though in the one engagement thou hast fail'd, Thou yet wilt keep the other. FERNANDO. Take that oath ? I cannot now ! PROCIDA. You can ! You ought ! You shall ! FERNANDO. I am a man, sir ! PROCIDA. Ay ? What kind of one ? FERNANDO. Maybe a weak one ; yet I dare abide The issue of my weakness, and I will. Not breaking trust with those it has misled To knit their fates to mine. PROCIDA. You call this manhood ? -Ay, in a man not worth the name of one ! How darest thou prate of keeping trust to me, With whom thou hast so vilely broken trust ? So lately, too ! Thou promised st yesterday 76 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. Bring back a son to me ! Where is he, sir ? Why must I come to seek him, and, instead, Behold a recreant ! FERNANDO. Better, sir, we part, Than hold discourse on terms unequal thus, That I must bear alone, and you inflict. PROCIDA. No ! We won't part ! You come along with me ! FERNANDO. Never ! PROCIDA. As you're my son I'll have it so ! FERNANDO. Ill not forsake the woman of my soul, Who to my bosom hath herself surrendered. Come woe ! Come shame ! Come ruin ! True to me, 111 not forsake her ! Yea, come death, I'll clasp her Long as my breast doth heave ! PROCIDA. You think this manhood Again ? Sir ! 'tis not what a man dares do, Nor what's expected from him by a man, But what Heaven orders him to do, 'tis that He should do. Heaven expects we keep its laws ; May we make league then with the foes of Heaven ? Or having made it, may we keep it. No ! Else we shall forfeit Heaven ! This base alliance Is even such a league. Break it ! FERNANDO. No! SCENE in.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 77 PROCIDA. No?- Listen, degenerate boy ! I'll tell thee that, In tearing which from me thou dost as bad As though my breast thou didst rip open, and Pluck out my heart alive ! You never knew A mother ? FERNANDO. I remember there was one, Upon whose breast I used to lie. PROCIDA. 'Twas she. She had a mother's breast the heart within Becoming its fair lodge adorning it With all the sweet affections of her sex, And holy virtues that keep watch for them ! Thou art like her ! Dost thou mark ? Thou art like her And so, I saw thou wast, upon her lap ; [now ; A little baby looking up at her ! Thou wast her first child, and her only one ! Thou mayst believe she loved thee ! FERNANDO. Does she live ? PROCIDA. No ; did she live, I were not now, perhaps, Debating with thee. Thou hadst granted her What thou deniest me. Wouldst thou behold her? Look here ! Was that a woman ? Heavens ! how fair ! [Drawing a Miniature from his breast. FERNANDO. 78 JOHN OF PROCIDA. [ACT iv. PROC1DA. Was that a woman ? FERNANDO. Yes! PROCIDA. No, boy ! She was An angel ! [Putting up the miniature. FERNANDO. Let me look again ! [PROCIDA holds it to FERNANDO, who takes it, and after looking at it is about to kiss it. PROCIDA. Forbear ! Thou shalt not kiss it ! No, nor breathe upon it ! There is contact on thy lips, at thought of which, Had she survived the ruin of my hold, And now were living, that sweet face, thou seest The limning of, had to the 'haviour turn'd Of deadly loathing ! of black horror ! aught That's removed farthest from that smile of Heaven ! Had any mock'd that face, what were he to thee ? FERNANDO. An enemy ! PROCIDA. Had any smitten it ? FERNANDO. I had lopp'd his hand off, and then smitten him To the heart ! PROCIDA. Had any brought the blush upon it The burning blush which innocence endures, Compeird by him who does a deed so damn'd That murder spurns it, will not bide with it ? SCENE in.] JOHN OF PROCIDA. 7