LITMIR.BIZ

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That when I was a child in my dear France,

       Being at Court at Fontainebleau, the King

       Wore such a collar.

      GUIDO

      Will you not say you love me?

      DUCHESS

      [smiling]

       He was a very royal man, King Francis,

       Yet he was not royal as you are.

       Why need I tell you, Guido, that I love you?

       [Takes his head in her hands and turns his face up to her.]

       Do you not know that I am yours for ever,

       Body and soul?

       [Kisses him, and then suddenly catches sight of MORANZONE and leaps up.]

       Oh, what is that? [MORANZONE disappears.]

      GUIDO

      What, love?

      DUCHESS

      Methought I saw a face with eyes of flame

       Look at us through the doorway.

      GUIDO

      Nay, ‘twas nothing:

       The passing shadow of the man on guard.

       [The DUCHESS still stands looking at the window.]

       ‘Twas nothing, sweet.

      DUCHESS

      Ay! what can harm us now,

       Who are in Love’s hand? I do not think I’d care

       Though the vile world should with its lackey Slander

       Trample and tread upon my life; why should I?

       They say the common field-flowers of the field

       Have sweeter scent when they are trodden on

       Than when they bloom alone, and that some herbs

       Which have no perfume, on being bruiséd die

       With all Arabia round them; so it is

       With the young lives this dull world seeks to crush,

       It does but bring the sweetness out of them,

       And makes them lovelier often. And besides,

       While we have love we have the best of life:

       Is it not so?

      GUIDO

      Dear, shall we play or sing?

       I think that I could sing now.

      DUCHESS

      Do not speak,

       For there are times when all existences

       Seem narrowed to one single ecstasy,

       And Passion sets a seal upon the lips.

      GUIDO

      Oh, with mine own lips let me break that seal!

       You love me, Beatrice?

      DUCHESS

      Ay! is it not strange

       I should so love mine enemy?

      GUIDO

      Who is he?

      DUCHESS

      Why, you: that with your shaft did pierce my heart!

       Poor heart, that lived its little lonely life

       Until it met your arrow.

      GUIDO

      Ah, dear love,

       I am so wounded by that bolt myself

       That with untended wounds I lie a-dying,

       Unless you cure me, dear Physician.

      DUCHESS

      I would not have you cured; for I am sick

       With the same malady.

      GUIDO

      Oh, how I love you!

       See, I must steal the cuckoo’s voice, and tell

       The one tale over.

      DUCHESS

      Tell no other tale!

       For, if that is the little cuckoo’s song,

       The nightingale is hoarse, and the loud lark

       Has lost its music.

      GUIDO

      Kiss me, Beatrice!

       [She takes his face in her hands and bends down and kisses him; a loud knocking then comes at the door, and GUIDO leaps up; enter a Servant.]

      SERVANT

      A package for you, sir.

      GUIDO

      [carelessly] Ah! give it to me. [Servant hands package wrapped in vermilion silk, and exit; as GUIDO is about to open it the DUCHESS comes up behind, and in sport takes it from him.]

      DUCHESS

      [laughing]

       Now I will wager it is from some girl

       Who would have you wear her favour; I am so jealous

       I will not give up the least part in you,

       But like a miser keep you to myself,

       And spoil you perhaps in keeping.

      GUIDO

      It is nothing.

      DUCHESS

      Nay, it is from some girl.

      GUIDO

      You know ‘tis not.

      DUCHESS

      [turns her back and opens it]

       Now, traitor, tell me what does this sign mean,

       A dagger with two leopards wrought in steel?

      GUIDO

      [taking it from her] O God!

      DUCHESS

      I’ll from the window look, and try

       If I can’t see the porter’s livery

       Who left it at the gate! I will not rest

       Till I have learned your secret.

       [Runs laughing into the corridor.]

      GUIDO

      Oh, horrible!

       Had I so soon forgot my father’s death,

       Did I so soon let love into my heart,

       And must I banish love, and let in murder

       That beats and clamours at the outer gate?

       Ay, that I must! Have I not sworn an oath?

       Yet not tonight; nay, it must be tonight.

       Farewell then all the joy and light of life,

       All dear recorded memories, farewell,

       Farewell all love! Could I with bloody hands

       Fondle and paddle with her innocent hands?

       Could I with lips fresh from this butchery

       Play with her lips? Could I with murderous eyes

       Look in those violet eyes, whose purity

       Would strike

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