That, on next Sunday, the Lord Cardinal Shall, after Holy Mass, preach you a sermon Upon the Beauty of Obedience.
[Citizens murmur.]
FIRST CITIZEN
I' faith, that will not fill our stomachs!
SECOND CITIZEN
A sermon is but a sorry sauce, when You have nothing to eat with it.
DUCHESS
Poor people, You see I have no power with the Duke, But if you go into the court without, My almoner shall from my private purse, Divide a hundred ducats 'mongst you all.
FIRST CITIZEN
God save the Duchess, say I.
SECOND CITIZEN
God save her.
DUCHESS
And every Monday morn shall bread be set For those who lack it.
[Citizens applaud and go out.]
FIRST CITIZEN
[going out]
Why, God save the Duchess again!
DUKE
[calling him back]
Come hither, fellow! what is your name?
FIRST CITIZEN
Dominick, sir.
DUKE
A good name! Why were you called Dominick?
FIRST CITIZEN
[scratching his head]
Marry, because I was born on St. George's day.
DUKE
A good reason! here is a ducat for you!
Will you not cry for me God save the Duke?
FIRST CITIZEN
[feebly]
God save the Duke.
DUKE
Nay! louder, fellow, louder.
FIRST CITIZEN
[a little louder]
God save the Duke!
DUKE
More lustily, fellow, put more heart in it!
Here is another ducat for you.
FIRST CITIZEN
[enthusiastically]
God save the Duke!
DUKE
[mockingly]
Why, gentlemen, this simple fellow's love Touches me much. [To the Citizen, harshly.]
Go! [Exit Citizen, bowing.]
This is the way, my lords, You can buy popularity nowadays.
Oh, we are nothing if not democratic!
[To the DUCHESS.]
Well, Madam, You spread rebellion 'midst our citizens.
DUCHESS
My Lord, the poor have rights you cannot touch, The right to pity, and the right to mercy.
DUKE
So, so, you argue with me? This is she, The gentle Duchess for whose hand I yielded Three of the fairest towns in Italy, Pisa, and Genoa, and Orvieto.
DUCHESS
Promised, my Lord, not yielded: in that matter Brake you your word as ever.
DUKE
You wrong us, Madam, There were state reasons.
DUCHESS
What state reasons are there For breaking holy promises to a state?
DUKE
There are wild boars at Pisa in a forest Close to the city: when I promised Pisa Unto your noble and most trusting father, I had forgotten there was hunting there.
At Genoa they say, Indeed I doubt them not, that the red mullet Runs larger in the harbour of that town Than anywhere in Italy.
[Turning to one of the Court.]
You, my lord, Whose gluttonous appetite is your only god, Could satisfy our Duchess on that point.
DUCHESS
And Orvieto?
DUKE
[yawning]
I cannot now recall Why I did not surrender Orvieto According to the word of my contract.
Maybe it was because I did not choose.
[Goes over to the DUCHESS.]
Why look you, Madam, you are here alone;
'Tis many a dusty league to your grey France, And even there your father barely keeps A hundred ragged squires for his Court.
What hope have you, I say? Which of these lords And noble gentlemen of Padua Stands by your side.
DUCHESS
There is not one.
[GUIDO starts, but restrains himself.]
DUKE
Nor shall be, While I am Duke in Padua: listen, Madam, Being mine own, you shall do as I will, And if it be my will you keep the house, Why then, this palace shall your prison be;
And if it be my will you walk abroad, Why, you shall take the air from morn to night.
DUCHESS
Sir, by what right -?
DUKE
Madam, my second Duchess Asked the same question once: her monument Lies in the chapel of Bartholomew, Wrought in red marble; very beautiful.
Guido, your arm. Come, gentlemen, let us go And spur our falcons for the mid-day chase.
Bethink you, Madam, you are here alone.
[Exit the DUKE leaning on GUIDO, with his Court.]
DUCHESS
[looking after them]
The Duke said rightly that I was alone;
Deserted, and dishonoured, and defamed, Stood ever woman so alone indeed?
Men when they woo us call us pretty children, Tell us we have not wit to make our lives, And so they mar them for us. Did I say woo?
We are their chattels, and their common slaves, Less dear than the poor hound that licks their hand, Less fondled than the hawk upon their wrist.
Woo, did I say? bought rather, sold and bartered, Our very bodies being merchandise.
I know it is the general lot of women, Each miserably mated to some man Wrecks her own life upon his selfishness:
That it is general makes it not less bitter.
I think I never heard a woman laugh, Laugh for pure merriment, except one woman, That was at night time, in the public streets.
Poor soul, she walked with painted lips, and wore The mask of pleasure: I would not laugh like her;
No, death were better.
[Enter GUIDO behind unobserved; the DUCHESS flings herself down before a picture of the Madonna.]
O Mary mother, with your sweet pale face Bending between the little angel heads That hover round you, have you no help for me?
Mother of God, have you no help for me?
GUIDO
I can endure no longer.
This is my love, and I will speak to her.
Lady, am I a stranger to your prayers?
DUCHESS
[rising]
None but the wretched needs my prayers, my lord.
GUIDO
Then must I need them, lady.
DUCHESS
How is that?
Does not the Duke show thee sufficient honour?
GUIDO
Your Grace, I lack no favours from the Duke, Whom my soul loathes as I loathe wickedness, But come to proffer on my bended knees, My loyal service to thee unto death.
DUCHESS
Alas! I am so fallen in estate I can but give thee a poor meed of thanks.
GUIDO
[seizing her hand]
Hast thou no love to give me?
[The DUCHESS starts, and GUIDO falls at her feet.]
O dear saint, If I have been too daring, pardon me!
Thy beauty sets my boyish blood aflame, And, when my reverent lips touch thy white hand, Each little nerve with such wild passion thrills That there is nothing which I would not do To gain thy love. [Leaps up.]
