LITMIR.BIZ

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[Passes across the stage to foot of staircase.]

       Ah! who art thou

       That sittest on the stair, like unto Death

       Waiting a guilty soul? [A pause.]

       Canst thou not speak?

       Or has this storm laid palsy on thy tongue,

       And chilled thy utterance?

       [The figure rises and takes off his mask.]

      MORANZONE

       Guido Ferranti,

       Thy murdered father laughs for joy tonight.

      GUIDO

       [confusedly]

       What, art thou here?

      MORANZONE

       Ay, waiting for your coming.

      GUIDO

       [looking away from him]

       I did not think to see you, but am glad,

       That you may know the thing I mean to do.

      MORANZONE

       First, I would have you know my well-laid plans;

       Listen: I have set horses at the gate

       Which leads to Parma: when you have done your business

       We will ride hence, and by tomorrow night -

      GUIDO

       It cannot be.

      MORANZONE

       Nay, but it shall.

      GUIDO

       Listen, Lord Moranzone,

       I am resolved not to kill this man.

      MORANZONE

       Surely my ears are traitors, speak again:

       It cannot be but age has dulled my powers,

       I am an old man now: what did you say?

       You said that with that dagger in your belt

       You would avenge your father’s bloody murder;

       Did you not say that?

      GUIDO

       No, my lord, I said

       I was resolved not to kill the Duke.

      MORANZONE

       You said not that; it is my senses mock me;

       Or else this midnight air o’ercharged with storm

       Alters your message in the giving it.

      GUIDO

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

      MORANZONE

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

      GUIDO

       I am resolved not to keep that oath.

      MORANZONE

       What of thy murdered father?

      GUIDO

       Dost thou think

       My father would be glad to see me coming,

       This old man’s blood still hot upon mine hands?

      MORANZONE

       Ay! he would laugh for joy.

      GUIDO

       I do not think so,

       There is better knowledge in the other world;

       Vengeance is God’s, let God himself revenge.

      MORANZONE

       Thou art God’s minister of vengeance.

      GUIDO

       No!

       God hath no minister but his own hand.

       I will not kill this man.

      MORANZONE

       Why are you here,

       If not to kill him, then?

      GUIDO

       Lord Moranzone,

       I purpose to ascend to the Duke’s chamber,

       And as he lies asleep lay on his breast

       The dagger and this writing; when he awakes

       Then he will know who held him in his power

       And slew him not: this is the noblest vengeance

       Which I can take.

      MORANZONE

       You will not slay him?

      GUIDO

       No.

      MORANZONE

       Ignoble son of a noble father,

       Who sufferest this man who sold that father

       To live an hour.

      GUIDO

       ‘Twas thou that hindered me;

       I would have killed him in the open square,

       The day I saw him first.

      MORANZONE

       It was not yet time;

       Now it is time, and, like some green-faced girl,

       Thou pratest of forgiveness.

      GUIDO

       No! revenge:

       The right revenge my father’s son should take.

      MORANZONE

       You are a coward,

       Take out the knife, get to the Duke’s chamber,

       And bring me back his heart upon the blade.

       When he is dead, then you can talk to me

       Of noble vengeances.

      GUIDO

       Upon thine honour,

       And by the love thou bearest my father’s name,

       Dost thou think my father, that great gentleman,

       That generous soldier, that most chivalrous lord,

       Would have crept at night-time, like a common thief,

       And stabbed an old man sleeping in his bed,

       However he had wronged him: tell me that.

      MORANZONE

       [after some hesitation]

       You have sworn an oath, see that you keep that oath.

       Boy, do you think I do not know your secret,

       Your traffic with the Duchess?

      GUIDO

       Silence, liar!

       The very moon in heaven is not more chaste.

       Nor the white stars so pure.

      MORANZONE

       And yet, you love her;

       Weak fool, to let love in upon your life,

       Save as a plaything.

      GUIDO

       You do well to talk:

       Within your veins, old man, the pulse of youth

       Throbs with no ardour. Your eyes full of rheum

       Have against Beauty closed their filmy doors,

       And your clogged ears, losing their natural sense,

       Have shut you from the music of the world.

       You talk of love! You know not what it is.

      MORANZONE

       Oh, in my time, boy, have I walked i’ the moon,

       Swore

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