_The Jewel Merchants_ _A Comedy in One Act_ By James Branch Cabell _"Io non posso ritrar di tutti appieno: pero chi si mi caccia il lungo tema, che molte volte al fatto il dir vieti meno. "_ NEW YORK 1921 TO LOUISE BURLEIGH _This latest avatar of so many notions which were originally hers. _ THE AUTHOR'S PROLOGUE Prudence urges me here to forestall detection, by conceding that thisbrief play has no pretension to "literary" quality. It is a piece inits inception designed for, and in its making swayed by, the requirementsof the little theatre stage. The one virtue which anybody anywhere couldclaim for _The Jewel Merchants_ is the fact that it "acts" easily andrather effectively. And candor compels the admission forthwith that the presence of thisanchoritic merit in the wilderness is hardly due to me. When circumstancesand the Little Theatre League of Richmond combined to bully me intocontriving the dramatization of a short story called _Balthazar'sDaughter_, I docilely converted this tale into a one-act play of whichyou will find hereinafter no sentence. The comedy I wrote is now at onewith the lost dramaturgy of Pollio and of Posidippus, and is even lesslikely ever to be resurrected for mortal auditors. It read, I still think, well enough: I am certain that, when we came torehearse, the thing did not "act" at all, and that its dialogue, whateverits other graces, had the defect of being unspeakable. So at eachrehearsal we--by which inclusive pronoun I would embrace the actors andthe producing staff at large, and with especial (metaphorical) ardor MissLouise Burleigh, who directed all--changed here a little, and there alittle more; and shifted this bit, and deleted the other, and "tried out"everybody's suggestions generally, until we got at least the relief ofwitnessing at each rehearsal a different play. And steadily my manuscriptwas enriched with interlineations, to and beyond the verge of legibility, as steadily I substituted, for the speeches I had rewritten yesterday, the speeches which the actor (having perfectly in mind the gist but notthe phrasing of what was meant) delivered naturally. This process made, at all events, for what we in particular wanted, which was a play that the League could stage for half an evening'sentertainment; but it left existent not a shred of the rhetoricalfripperies which I had in the beginning concocted, and it made of theactual first public performance a collaboration with almost as manycontributing authors as though the production had been a musical comedy. And if only fate had gifted me with an exigent conscience and a turn fororatory, I would, I like to think, have publicly confessed, at that firstpublic performance, to all those tributary clarifying rills to the play'sprogress: but, as it was, vainglory combined with an aversion to"speech-making" to compel a taciturn if smirking acceptance of thecurtain-call with which an indulgent audience flustered the nominal authorof _The Jewel Merchants_. . . . Now, in any case, it is due my collaboratorsto tell you that _The Jewel Merchants_ has amply fulfilled the purposeof its makers by being enacted to considerable applause, --and is apleasure to add that this _succès d'estime_ was very little chargeable toanything which I contributed to the play. For another matter, I would here confess that _The Jewel Merchants_, in addition to its "literary" deficiencies, lacks moral fervor. It will, I trust, corrupt no reader irretrievably, to untraversable leagues beyondthe last hope of redemption: but, even so, it is a frankly unethicalperformance. You must accept this resuscitated trio, if at all, very muchas they actually went about Tuscany, in long ago discarded young flesh, when the one trait everywhere common to their milieu was the absence ofany moral excitement over such-and-such an action's being or not being"wicked. " This phenomenon of Renaissance life, as lived in Italy inparticular, has elsewhere been discussed time and again, and I lack herethe space, and the desire, either to explain or to apologize for the era'sdelinquencies. I would merely indicate that this point of conduct is thefulcrum of _The Jewel Merchants_. The play presents three persons, to any one of whom the committing ofmurder or theft or adultery or any other suchlike interdicted feat, isjust the risking of the penalty provided against the breaking of thatespecial law if you have the vile luck to be caught at it: and this tothem is all that "wickedness" can mean. We nowadays are encouraged tothink differently: but such dear privileges do not entitle us to ignorethe truth that had any of these three advanced a dissenting code ofconduct, it would, in the time and locality, have been in radicalirreverence of the best-thought-of tenets. There was no generallyrecognized criminality in crime, but only a perceptible risk. So mustthis trio thriftily adhere to the accepted customs of their era, andregard an infraction of the Decalogue (for an instance) very much as wetoday look on a violation of our prohibition enactments. In fact, we have accorded to the Eighteenth Amendment almost exactly thestatus then reserved for Omnipotence. You found yourself confronted byoccasionally enforced if obviously unreasonable supernal statutorydecrees, which every one broke now and then as a matter of convenience:and every now and then, also, somebody was caught and punished, either inthis world or in the next, without his ill-fortune's involving anydisgrace or particular reprehension. As has been finely said, righteousness and sinfulness were for the while "in strange and dreadfulpeace with each other. The wicked man did not dislike virtue, nor the goodman vice: the villain could admire a saint, and the saint could excuse avillain, in things which we often shrink from repeating, and sometimesrecoil from believing. " Such was the sixteenth-century Tuscan view of "wickedness. " I haveendeavored to reproduce it without comment. So much of ink and paper and typography may be needed, I fear, to remindyou, in a more exhortatory civilization, that Graciosa is really, by allthe standards of her day, a well reared girl. To the prostitution of herbody, whether with or without the assistance of an ecclesiasticallyacquired husband, she looks forward as unconcernedly as you must byordinary glance out of your front window, to face a vista so familiarthat the discovery of any change therein would be troubling. Meanwhileshe wishes this sorrow-bringing Eglamore assassinated, as the obvious, the most convenient, and indeed the only way of getting rid of him: andtoward the end of the play, alike for her and Guido, the presence of acorpse in her garden is merely an inconvenience without any touch of thegruesome. Precautions have, of course, to be taken to meet the emergencywhich has arisen: but in the dead body of a man _per se_, the lovers candetect nothing more appalling, or more to be shrunk from, than would beapparent if the lifeless object in the walkway were a dead flower. Thething ought to be removed, if only in the interest of tidiness, but thereis no call to make a pother over it. As for our Guido, he is best kept conformable to modern tastes, I suspect, by nobody's prying too closely into the earlier relations between theDuke and his handsome minion. The insistently curious may resort tohistory to learn at what price the favors of Duke Alessandro were securedand retained: it is no part of the play. Above all, though, I must remind you that the Duke is unspurred bymalevolence. A twinge of jealousy there may be, just at first, to find hispampered Eglamore so far advanced in the good graces of this pretty girl, but that is hardly important. Thereafter the Duke is breaking no law, for the large reason that his preference in any matter is the only lawthus far divulged to him. As concerns the man and the girl he discovers onthis hill-top, they, in common with all else in Tuscany, are possessionsof Duke Alessandro's. They can raise no question as to how he "ought" todeal with them, for to your chattels, whether they be your finger rings oryour subjects or your pomatum pots or the fair quires whereon you inditeyour verses, you cannot rationally he said to "owe" anything. . . . No, theDuke is but a spirited lad in quest of amusement: and Guido and Graciosaare the playthings with which, on this fine sunlit morning, he attempts todivert himself. This much being granted--and confessed, --we let the play begin. _Dumbarton Grange, __June, 1921_ * * * * * ["Alessandro de Medici is generally styled by the Italian authors thefirst duke of Florence; but in this they are not strictly accurate. Histitle of duke was derived from Città, or Cività di Penna, and had beenassumed by him several years before he obtained the direction of theFlorentine state. It must also be observed, that, after the evasion ofEglamore, Duke Alessandro did not, as Robertson observes, 'enjoy thesame absolute dominion as his family have retained to the present times, '(Hist. Charles V. Book v. ) he being only declared chief or prince of therepublic, and his authority being in some measure counteracted orrestrained by two councils chosen from the citizens, for life, one ofwhich consisted of forty-eight, and the other of two hundred members. (Varchi, Storia Fior. P. 497: Nerli, Com. Lib. Xi. Pp. 257, 264. )"] * * * * * THE JEWEL MERCHANTS _"Diamente nè smeraldo nè zaffino. "_ Originally produced by the Little Theatre League of Richmond, Virginia, at the Binford High School Auditorium, 22 February, 1921. _Original Cast_ GRACIOSA. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Elinor Fry Daughter of Balthazar Valori GUIDO. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Roderick Maybee A jewel merchant ALESSANDRO DE MEDICI. . . . . . . . . Francis F. Bierne Duke of Florence Produced under the direction of Louise Burleigh. * * * * * _THE JEWEL MERCHANTS_ _The play begins with the sound of a woman's voice singing a song(adapted from Rossetti's version) which is delivered to the accompanimentof a lute. _ SONG: Let me have dames and damsels richly clad To feed and tend my mirth, Singing by day and night to make me glad. Let me have fruitful gardens of great girth Filled with the strife of birds, With water-springs and beasts that house i' the earth. Let me seem Solomon for lore of words, Samson for strength, for beauty Absalom. Knights as my serfs be given; And as I will, let music go and come, Till, when I will, I will to enter Heaven. _As the singing ends, the curtain rises upon a corner of BalthazarValori's garden near the northern border of Tuscany. The garden is walled. There is a shrine in the wall: the tortured figure upon the crucifix isconspicuous. To the right stands a rather high-backed stone bench: bymounting from the seat to the top of the bench it is possible to scalethe wall. To the left a crimson pennant on a pole shows against the sky. The period is 1533, and a few miles southward the Florentines, after threeyears of formally recognizing Jesus Christ as the sole lord and king ofFlorence, have lately altered matters as profoundly as was possible byelecting Alessandro de Medici to be their Duke. _ _GRACIOSA is seated upon the bench, with a lute. The girl is, to ourmodern taste, very quaintly dressed in gold-colored satin, with a shorttight bodice, cut square and low at the neck, and with long full skirts. When she stands erect, her preposterous "flowing" sleeves, lined withsky blue, reach to the ground. Her blonde hair, of which she has a greatdeal, is braided, in the intricate early sixteenth fashion, under ajeweled cap and a veil the exact color of this hair. _ _There is a call. Smiling, GRACIOSA answers this call by striking herlute. She pats straight her hair and gown, and puts aside the instrument. GUIDO appears at the top of the wall. All you can see of the handsomeyoung fellow, in this posture, is that he wears a green skull-cap and adark blue smock, the slashed sleeves of which are lined with green. _ GUIDOAh, madonna. . . . GRACIOSAWelcome, Ser Guido. Your journey has been brief. GUIDOIt has not seemed brief to me. GRACIOSAWhy, it was only three days ago you told me it would be a fortnightbefore you came this way again. GUIDOYes, but I did not then know that each day spent apart from you, MadonnaGraciosa, would be a century in passing. GRACIOSADear me, but your search must have been desperate! GUIDO(_Who speaks, as almost always hereinafter, with sober enjoyment of thefact that he is stating the exact truth unintelligibly. _) Yes, my searchis desperate. GRACIOSADid you find gems worthy of your search? GUIDOVery certainly, since at my journey's end I find Madonna Graciosa, thechief jewel of Tuscany. GRACIOSASuch compliments, Guido, make your speech less like a merchant's than acourtier's. GUIDOAh, well, to balance that, you will presently find courtiers in Florencewho will barter for you like merchants. May I descend? GRACIOSAYes, if you have something of interest to show me. GUIDOAm I to be welcomed merely for the sake of my gems? You were moregracious, you were more beautifully like your lovely name, on thefortunate day that I first encountered you . . . Only six weeks ago, andonly yonder, where the path crosses the highway. But now that I esteemmyself your friend, you greet me like a stranger. You do not even inviteme into your garden. I much prefer the manner in which you told me theway to the inn when I was an unknown passer-by. And yet your pennantpromised greeting. GRACIOSA(_With the smile of an exceptionally candid angel. _) Ah, Guido, I flewit the very minute the boy from the inn brought me your message! GUIDONow, there is the greeting I had hoped for! But how do you escape yourfather's watch so easily? GRACIOSAMy father has no need to watch me in this lonely hill castle. Ever sinceI can remember I have wandered at will in the forest. My father knows thatto me every path is as familiar as one of the corridors in his house; andin no one of them did I ever meet anybody except charcoal-burners, andsometimes a nun from the convent, and--oh, yes!--you. But descend, friendGuido. _Thus encouraged, GUIDO descends from the top of the wall to the top ofthe bench, and thence, via its seat, to the ground. You are therebyenabled to discover that his nether portions are clad in dark blue tightsand soft leather shoes with pointed turned-up toes. It is also noticeablethat he carries a jewel pack of purple, which, when opened, reveals anorange lining. _ GUIDO(_With as much irony as the pleasure he takes in being again with thisdear child permits. _) That "Oh, yes, you!" is a very fitting reward formy devotion. For I find that nowadays I travel about the kingdom buyingjewels less for my patrons at court than for the pleasure of having youreyes appraise them, and smile at me. GRACIOSA(_With the condescension of a great lady. _) Guido, you have in point offact been very kind to me, and very amusing, too, in my loneliness onthe top of this hill. (_Drawing back the sleeve from her left arm, shereveals the trinket there. _) See, here is the turquoise bracelet I hadfrom you the second time you passed. I wear it always--secretly. GUIDOThat is wise, for the turquoise is a talisman. They say that the womanwho wears a turquoise is thereby assured of marrying the person whom sheprefers. GRACIOSAI do not know about that, nor do I expect to have much choice as to whatrich nobleman marries me, but I know that I love this bracelet-- GUIDOIn fact, they are handsome stones. GRACIOSABecause it reminds me constantly of the hours which I have spent herewith my lute-- GUIDOOh, with your lute! GRACIOSAAnd with your pack of lovely jewels-- GUIDOYes, to be sure! with my jewels. GRACIOSAAnd with you. GUIDOThere is again my gracious lady. Now, in reward for that, you shallfeast your eyes. GRACIOSA(_All eagerness. _) And what have you to-day? _GUIDO opens his pack. She bends above it with hands outstretched. _ GUIDO(_Taking out a necklace. _) For one thing, pearls, black pearls, set witha clasp of emeralds. See! They will become you. GRACIOSA(_Taking them, pressing them to her cheek. _) How cool! But I--poor childof a poor noble--I cannot afford such. GUIDOOh, I did not mean to offer them to you to-day. No, this string isintended for the Duke's favorite, Count Eglamore. GRACIOSA(_Stiffening. _) Count Eglamore! These are for him? GUIDOFor Count Eglamore. GRACIOSAHas the upstart such taste? GUIDOIf it be taste to appreciate pearls, then the Duke's chief officer hasexcellent taste. He seeks them far and wide. He will be very generous inpaying for this string. _GRACIOSA drops the pearls, in which she no longer delights. She returnsto the bench, and sits down and speaks with a sort of disappointment. _ GRACIOSAI am sorry to learn that this Eglamore is among your patrons. GUIDO(_Still half engrossed by the contents of his pack. The man loves jewelsequally for their value and their beauty. _) Oh, the nobles complain ofhim, but we merchants have no quarrel with Eglamore. He buys too lavishly. GRACIOSADo you think only of buying and selling, Guido? GUIDOIt is a pursuit not limited to us who frankly live by sale and purchase. Count Eglamore, for example, knows that men may be bought as readily asmerchandise. It is one reason why he is so hated--by the unbought. GRACIOSA(_Irritated by the title. _) Count Eglamore, indeed! I ask in my prayersevery night that some honest gentleman may contrive to cut the throat ofthis abominable creature. GUIDO(_His hand going to his throat. _) You pray too much, madonna. Even verypious people ought to be reasonable. GRACIOSA(_Rising from the bench. _) Have I not reason to hate the man who killedmy kinsman? GUIDO(_Rising from his gems. _) The Marquis of Cibo conspired, or so the courtjudged-- GRACIOSAI know nothing of the judgment. But it was this Eglamore who discoveredthe plot, if there indeed was any plot, and who sent my cousin Cibo toa death--(_pointing to the shrine_)--oh, to a death as horrible as that. So I hate him. GUIDOYet you have never even seen him, I believe? GRACIOSAAnd it would be better for him never to see me or any of my kin. Myfather, my uncles and my cousins have all sworn to kill him-- GUIDOSo I have gathered. They remain among the unbought. GRACIOSA(_Returning, sits upon the bench, and speaks regretfully. _) But theyhave never any luck. Cousin Pietro contrived to have a beam dropped onEglamore's head, and it missed him by not half a foot-- GUIDOAh, yes, I remember. GRACIOSAAnd Cousin Georgio stabbed him in the back one night, but the coward hadon chain-armor under his finery-- GUIDOI remember that also. GRACIOSAAnd Uncle Lorenzo poisoned his soup, but a pet dog got at it first. Thatwas very unfortunate. GUIDOYes, the dog seemed to think so, I remember. GRACIOSAHowever, perseverance is always rewarded. So I still hope that one oranother of my kinsmen will contrive to kill this Eglamore before I go tocourt. GUIDO(_Sits at her feet. _) Has my Lord Balthazar yet set a day for thatpresentation? GRACIOSANot yet. GUIDOI wish to have this Eglamore's accounts all settled by that date. GRACIOSABut in three months, Guido, I shall be sixteen. My sisters went to courtwhen they were sixteen. GUIDOIn fact, a noble who is not rich cannot afford to continue supporting adaughter who is salable in marriage. GRACIOSANo, of course not. (_She speaks in the most matter-of-fact tone possible. Then, more impulsively, the girl slips down from the bench, and sits byhim on the around. _) Do you think I shall make as good a match as mysisters, Guido? Do you think some great rich nobleman will marry me verysoon? And shall I like the court! What shall I see there? GUIDOMarvels. I think--yes, I am afraid that you will like them. GRACIOSAAnd Duke Alessandro--shall I like him? GUIDOFew courtiers have expressed dislike of him in my presence. GRACIOSADo you like him? Does he too buy lavishly? GUIDOEh, madonna! some day, when you have seen his jewels-- GRACIOSAOh! I shall see them when I go to court? GUIDOYes, he will show them to you, I think, without fail, for the Duke lovesbeauty in all its forms. So he will take pleasure in confronting thebrightness of your eyes with the brightness of the four kinds of sapphires, of the twelve kinds of rubies, and of many extraordinary pearls-- GRACIOSA(_With eyes shining, and lips parted. _) Oh! GUIDOAnd you will see his famous emerald necklace, and all his diamonds, andhis huge turquoises, which will make you ashamed of your poor talisman-- GRACIOSAHe will show all these jewels to me! GUIDO(_Looking at her, and still smiling thoughtfully. _) He will show you thevery finest of his gems, assuredly. And then, worse still, he will bemaking verses in your honor. GRACIOSAIt would be droll to have a great duke making songs about me! GUIDOIt is a preposterous feature of Duke Alessandro's character that he isalways making songs about some beautiful thing or another. GRACIOSASuch strange songs, Guido! I was singing over one of them just beforeyou came, -- Let me have dames and damsels richly clad To feed and tend my mirth, Singing by day and night to make me glad-- But I could not quite understand it. Are his songs thought good? GUIDOThe songs of a reigning duke are always good. GRACIOSAAnd is he as handsome as people report? GUIDOTastes differ, of course-- GRACIOSAAnd is he--? GUIDOI have a portrait of the Duke. It does not, I think, unduly flatter him. Will you look at it? GRACIOSAYes, yes! GUIDO(_Drawing out a miniature on a chain. _) Here is the likeness. GRACIOSABut how should you--? GUIDO(_Seeing her surprise. _) Oh, it was a gift to me from his highness for aspecial service I did him, and as such must be treasured. GRACIOSAPerhaps, then, I shall see yon at court, Messer Guido, who are the friendof princes? GUIDOIf you do, I ask only that in noisy Florence you remember this quietgarden. GRACIOSA(_Looks at him silently, then glances at the portrait. She speaks withevident disappointment. _) Is this the Duke? GUIDOYou may see his arms on it, and on the back his inscription. GRACIOSAYes, but--(_looking at the portrait again_)--but . . . He is . . . So . . . GUIDOYou are astonished at his highness' coloring? That he inherits from hismother. She was, you know, a blackamoor. GRACIOSAAnd my sisters wrote me he was like a god! GUIDOSuch observations are court etiquette. GRACIOSA(_With an outburst of disgust. _) Take it back! Though how can you bear tolook at it, far less to have it touching you! And only yesterday I wasangry because I had not seen the Duke riding past! GUIDOSeen him! here! riding past! GRACIOSAOld Ursula told me that the Duke had gone by with twenty men, riding downtoward the convent at the border. And I flung my sewing-bag straight ather head because she had not called me. GUIDOThat was idle gossip, I fancy. The Duke rarely rides abroad withoutmy--(_he stops_)--without my lavish patron Eglamore, the friend of allhonest merchants. GRACIOSABut that abominable Eglamore may have been with him. I heard nothing tothe contrary. GUIDOTrue, madonna, true. I had forgotten you did not see them. GRACIOSANo. What is he like, this Eglamore? Is he as appalling to look at as theDuke? GUIDOMadonna! but wise persons do not apply such adjectives to dukes. And wisepersons do not criticize Count Eglamore's appearance, either, now thatEglamore is indispensable to the all-powerful Duke of Florence. GRACIOSAIndispensable? GUIDOIt is thanks to the Eglamore whom you hate that the Duke has ample leisureto indulge in recreations which are reputed to be--curious. GRACIOSAI do not understand you, Guido. GUIDOThat is perhaps quite as well. (_Attempting to explain as much as isdecently expressible. _) To be brief, madonna, business annoys the Duke. GRACIOSAWhy? GUIDOIt interferes with the pursuit of all the beautiful things he asks forin that song. GRACIOSABut how does that make Eglamore indispensable? GUIDOEglamore is an industrious person who affixes seals, and signs treaties, and musters armies, and collects revenues, upon the whole, quite asefficiently as Alessandro would be capable of doing these things. GRACIOSASo Duke Alessandro merely makes verses? GUIDOAnd otherwise amuses himself as his inclinations prompt, while Eglamorerules Tuscany--and the Tuscans are none the worse off on account of it. (_He rises, and his hand goes to the dagger at his belt. _) But is notthat a horseman? GRACIOSA(_She too has risen, and is now standing on the bench, looking over thewall. _) A solitary rider, far down by the convent, so far away that heseems hardly larger than a scarlet dragon-fly. GUIDOI confess I wish to run no risk of being found here, by your respectedfather or by your ingenious cousins and uncles. GRACIOSA(_She turns, but remains standing upon the bench. _) I think your Duke ismuch more dangerous looking than any of them. Heigho! I can quite foreseethat I shall never fall in love with this Duke. GUIDOA prince has means to overcome all obstacles. GRACIOSANo. It is unbefitting and a little cowardly for Duke Alessandro to shirkthe duties of his station for verse-making and eternal pleasure-seeking. Now if I were Duke-- GUIDOWhat would you do? GRACIOSA(_Posturing a little as she stands upon the bench. _) If I were duke?Oh . . . I would grant my father a pension . . . And I would have Eglamorehanged . . . And I would purchase a new gown of silvery green-- GUIDOIn which you would be very ravishingly beautiful. _His tone has become rather ardent, and he is now standing nearer to herthan the size of the garden necessitates. So GRACIOSA demurely stepsdown from the bench, and sits at the far end. _ GRACIOSAAnd that is all I can think of. What would you do if you were duke, Messer Guido? GUIDO(_Who is now sitting beside her at closer quarters than the length of thebench quite strictly demands. _) I? What would I do if I were a great lordinstead of a tradesman! (_Softly. _) I think you know the answer, madonna. GRACIOSAOh, you would make me your duchess, of course. That is quite understood. But I was speaking seriously, Guido. GUIDOAnd is it not a serious matter that a pedler of crystals should have daredto love a nobleman's daughter? GRACIOSA(_Delighted. _) This is the first I have heard of it. GUIDOBut you are perfectly right. It is not a serious matter. That I worshipyou is an affair which does not seriously concern any person save me inany way whatsoever. Yet I think that knowledge of the fact would put yourfather to the trouble of sharpening his dagger. GRACIOSAYe-es. But not even Father would deny that you were showing excellenttaste. GUIDOIndeed, I am not certain that I do worship you; for in order to adorewhole-heartedly the idolater must believe his idol to be perfect. (_Taking her hand. _) Now your nails are of an ugly shape, like that oflittle fans. Your nose is nothing to boast of. And your mouth is toolarge. I do not admire these faults, for faults they are undoubtedly-- GRACIOSADo they make me very ugly? I know that I have not a really good mouth, Guido, but do you think it is positively repulsive? GUIDONo. . . . Then, too, I know that you are vain and self-seeking, and lookforward contentedly to the time when your father will transfer hisownership of your physical attractions to that nobleman who offers thehighest price for them. GRACIOSABut we daughters of the poor Valori are compelled to marry--suitably. Wehave only the choice between that and the convent yonder. GUIDOThat is true, and nobody disputes it. Still, you participate in amonstrous bargain, and I would prefer to have you exhibit distaste for it. _Bending forward, GUIDO draws from his jewel pack the string of pearls, and this he moodily contemplates, in order to evince his completedisinterestedness. The pose has its effect. GRACIOSA looks at him for amoment, rises, draws a deep breath, and speaks with a sort of humility. _ GRACIOSAAnd to what end, Guido? What good would weeping do? GUIDO(_Smiling whimsically. _) I am afraid that men do not always loveaccording to the strict laws of logic. (_He drops the pearls, and, rising, follows her. _) I desire your happiness above all things, yet tosee you so abysmally untroubled by anything which troubles me is--anothermatter. GRACIOSABut I am not untroubled, Guido. GUIDONo? GRACIOSANo. (_Rather tremulously. _) Sometimes I sit here dreading my life atcourt. I want never to leave my father's bleak house. I fear that I maynot like the man who offers the highest price for me. And it seems asif the court were a horrible painted animal, dressed in bright silks, andshining with jewels, and waiting to devour me. _Beyond the wall appears a hat of scarlet satin with a divided brim, which, rising, is revealed to surmount the head of an extraordinarilyswarthy person, to whose dark skin much powder has only loaned the hue ofdeath: his cheeks, however, are vividly carmined. This is all that theaudience can now see of the young DUKE of FLORENCE, whose proximity thetwo in the garden are just now too much engrossed to notice. _ _The DUKE looks from one to the other. His eyes narrow, his teeth aredisplayed in a wide grin; he now understands the situation. He lowers hishead as GRACIOSA moves. _ GRACIOSANo, I am not untroubled. For I cannot fathom you, and that troubles me. Iam very fond of you--and yet I do not trust you. GUIDOYou know that I love you. GRACIOSAYou tell me so. It pleases me to have you say it-- GUIDOMadonna is candid this morning. GRACIOSAYes, I am candid. It does please me. And I know that for the sake ofseeing me you endanger your life, for if my father heard of our meetingshere he would have you killed. GUIDOWould I incur such risks without caring? GRACIOSANo, --and yet, somehow, I do not believe it is altogether for me that youcare. _The DUKE laughs. GUIDO starts, half drawing his dagger. GRACIOSA turnswith an instinctive gesture of seeking protection. The DUKE'S head andshoulders appear above the wall. _ THE DUKEAnd you will find, my friend, that the most charming women have just theseawkward intuitions. _The DUKE ascends the wall, while the two stand motionless and silent. When he is on top of the wall, GUIDO, who now remembers that omnipotenceperches there, makes haste to serve it, and obsequiously assists the DUKEto descend. The DUKE then comes well forward, in smiling meditation, andhands first his gloves, then his scarlet cloak (which you now perceive tobe lined with ermine and sable in four stripes) to GUIDO, who takes themas a servant would attend his master. _ _The removal of this cloak reveals the DUKE to be clad in a scarlet satindoublet, which has a high military collar and sleeves puffed with black. His tights also are of scarlet, and he wears shining soft blackriding-boots. Jewels glisten at his neck. About his middle, too, there isa metallic gleaming, for he is equipped with a noticeably long sword anda dagger. Such is the personage who now addresses himself more explicitlyto GRACIOSA. _ THE DUKE(_Sitting upon the bench, very much at his ease while the others standuncomfortably before him. _) Yes, madonna, I suspect that Eglamore herecares greatly for the fact that you are Balthazar Valori's daughter, andcousin to the late Marquis of Cibo. GRACIOSA(_Just in bewilderment. _) Eglamore! THE DUKEFor Cibo left many kinsmen. These still resent the circumstance thatthe matching of his wits against Eglamore's wits earned for Cibo anunpleasantly public death-bed. So they pursue their feud against Eglamorewith vexatious industry. And Eglamore goes about in hourly apprehensionof another falling beam, another knife-thrust in the back, or anotherplate of poison. GRACIOSA(_She comprehends now. _) Eglamore! THE DUKE(_Who is pleased alike by Eglamore's neat plan and by his own clevernessin unriddling it. _) But if rich Eglamore should make a stolen match withyou, your father--good thrifty man!--could be appeased without muchtrouble. Your cousins, those very angry but penniless Valori, would notstay over-obdurate to a kinsman who had at his disposal so many pensionsand public offices. Honor would permit a truce with their new cousinEglamore, a truce very profitable to everybody. GRACIOSAHe said they must be bought somehow! THE DUKEYes, Eglamore could bind them all to his interest within ten days. Allcould be bought at a stroke by marrying you. And Eglamore would be ridof the necessity of sleeping in chain-armor. Have I not unraveled thescheme correctly, Eglamore? GUIDO(_Smiling and deferential. _) Your highness was never lacking inpenetration. _GRACIOSA, at this, turns puzzled from one man to the other. _ GRACIOSAAre you--? THE DUKEI am Alessandro de Medici, madonna. GRACIOSAThe Duke! THE DUKEA sadly neglected prince, who wondered over the frequent absences of hischief counselor, and secretly set spies upon him. Eglamore here willattest as much--(_As GRACIOSA draws away from GUIDO_)--or if you cannotbelieve Eglamore any longer in anything, I shall have other witnesseswithin the half-hour. Yes, my twenty cut-throats are fetching back for mea brace of nuns from the convent yonder. I can imagine that, just now, mycut-throats will be in your opinion more trustworthy witnesses than ispoor Eglamore. And my stout knaves will presently assure you that I amthe Duke. GUIDO(_Suavely. _) It happens that not a moment ago we were admiring yourhighness' portrait. GRACIOSAAnd so you are Count Eglamore. That is very strange. So it was the handof Eglamore (_rubbing her hands as if to clean them_) that I touched justnow. I thought it was the hand of my friend Guido. But I forget. There isno Guido. You are Eglamore. It is strange you should have been capable ofso much wickedness, for to me you seem only a smirking and harmlesslackey. _The DUKE is watching as if at a play. He is aesthetically pleased by thegirl's anguish. GUIDO winces. As GRACIOSA begins again to speak, they turnfacing her, so that to the audience the faces of both men are invisible. _ GRACIOSAAnd it was you who detected--so you said--the Marquis of Cibo'sconspiracy. Tebaldeo was my cousin, Count Eglamore. I loved him. We werereared together. We used to play here in this garden. I remember howTebaldeo once fetched me a wren's nest from that maple yonder. I stoodjust here. I was weeping, because I was afraid he would fall. If he hadfallen, if he had been killed then, it would have been the luckier forhim. They say that he conspired. I do not know. I only know that by yourorders, Count Eglamore, my playmate Tebaldeo was fastened to a cross, likethat (_pointing to the shrine_). I know that his arms and legs were eachbroken in two places with an iron bar. I know that this cross was then setupon a pivot, so that it turned slowly. I know that my dear Tebaldeo diedvery slowly in the sunlit marketplace, while the cross turned, and turned, and turned. I know this was a public holiday; the shopkeepers took holidayto watch him die, the boy who fetched me a wren's nest from yonder maple. And I know that you are Eglamore, who ordered these things done. GUIDOI gave orders for the Marquis of Cibo's execution, as was the duty of myoffice. I did not devise the manner of his punishment. The punishment forCibo's crime was long ago fixed by our laws. All who attack the Duke'sperson must die thus. GRACIOSA(_Waves his excuses aside. _) And then you plan this masquerade. You planto make me care for you so greatly that even when I know you to be CountEglamore I must still care for you. You plan to marry me, so as to placateTebaldeo's kinsmen, so as to leave them--in your huckster's phrase--nolonger unbought. It was a fine bold stroke of policy, I know, to use meas a stepping-stone to safety. But was it fair to me? GUIDOGraciosa . . . You shame me-- GRACIOSALook you, Count Eglamore, I was only a child, playing here, alone, andnot unhappy. Oh, was it fair, was it worth while to match your skillagainst my ignorance? THE DUKEFie, Donna Graciosa, you must not be too harsh with Eglamore-- GRACIOSAThink how unhappy I would be if even now I loved you, and how I wouldloathe myself! THE DUKEIt is his nature to scheme, and he weaves his plots as inevitably as thespider does her web-- GRACIOSABut I am getting angry over nothing. Nothing has happened except thatI have dreamed--of a Guido. And there is no Guido. There is only anEglamore, a lackey in attendance upon his master. THE DUKEBelieve me, it is wiser to forget this clever lackey--as I do--except whenthere is need of his services. I think that you have no more need toconsider him-- _He takes the girl's hand. GRACIOSA now looks at him as though seeing himfor the first time. She is vaguely frightened by this predatory beast, butin the main her emotion is as yet bewilderment. _ THE DUKEFor you are very beautiful, Graciosa. You are as slim as a lily, andmore white. Your eyes are two purple mirrors in each of which I see atiny image of Duke Alessandro. (_GUIDO takes a step forward, and the DUKEnow addresses him affably. _) Those nuns they are fetching me are bighigh-colored wenches with cheeks like apples. It is not desirable thatwomen should be so large. Such women do not inspire a poet. Women shouldbe little creatures that fear you. They should have thin plaintive voices, and in shrinking from you should be as slight to the touch as a cobweb. It is not possible to draw inspiration from a woman's beauty unless youcomprehend how easy it would be to murder her. GUIDO(_Softly, without expression. _) God, God! _The DUKE looks with delight at GRACIOSA, who stands bewildered andchildlike. _ THE DUKEYou fear me, do you not, Graciosa? Your hand is soft and cold as the skinof a viper. When I touch it you shudder. I am very tired of women wholove me, of women who are infatuated by my beauty. You, I can see, are notinfatuated. To you my touch will always be a martyrdom, you will alwaysloathe me. And therefore I shall not weary of you for a long while, because the misery and the helplessness of my lovely victim will inciteme to make very lovely verses. _He draws her to the bench, sitting beside her. _ THE DUKEYes, Graciosa, you will inspire me. Your father shall have all the wealthand state that even his greedy imaginings can devise, so long as you cancontrive to loathe me. We will find you a suitable husband--say, inEglamore here. You shall have flattery and titles, gold and fine glass, soft stuffs and superb palaces and many lovely jewels-- _The DUKE glances down at the pedler's pack. _ THE DUKEBut Eglamore also has been wooing you with jewels. You must see mine, dear Graciosa. GRACIOSA(_Without expression. _) Count Eglamore said that I must. THE DUKE(_Raises the necklace, and lets it drop contemptuously. _) Oh, not suchtrumpery as this. I have in Florence gems which have not their fellowsanywhere, gems which have not even a name, and the value of which isincalculable. I have jewels engendered by the thunder, jewels taken fromthe heart of the Arabian deer. I have jewels cut from the brain of a toad, and from the eyes of serpents. I have jewels which are authentically knownto have fallen from the moon. Well, we will select the rarest, and have apair of slippers encrusted with them, and in these slippers you shalldance for me, in a room that I know of-- GUIDO(_Without moving. _) Highness--! THE DUKEIt will all be very amusing, for I think that she is now quite innocent, as pure as the high angels. Yes, it will be diverting to make her as I am. It will be an atrocious action that will inspire me to write lovelierverses than even I have ever written. GUIDOShe is a child-- THE DUKEYes, yes, a frightened child who cannot speak, who stays as still as alark that has been taken in a snare. Why, neither of her sisters cancompare with this, and, besides, the elder one had a quite ugly mole uponher thigh--But that old rogue Balthazar Valori has a real jewel to offer, this time. Well, I will buy it. GUIDOHighness, I love this child-- THE DUKEAh, then you cannot ever be her husband. You would have suited otherwise. But we will find some other person of discretion-- _For a moment the two men regard each other in silence. The DUKE becomesaware that he is being opposed. His brows contract a little, but he risesfrom the bench rather as if in meditation than in anger. Then GUIDO dropsthe cloak and gloves he has been holding until this. His lackeyship isover. _ GUIDONo! THE DUKEMy friend, some long-faced people say you made a beast of me-- GUIDONo, I will not have it. THE DUKESo do you beware lest the beast turn and rend you. GUIDOI have never been too nice to profit by your vices. I have taken mythrifty toll of abomination. I have stood by contentedly, not urging youon, yet never trying to stay you as you waded deeper and ever deeper intothe filth of your debaucheries, because meanwhile you left me so muchpower. THE DUKEWould you reshape your handiwork more piously? Come, come, man, be contentwith it as I am. And be content with the kingdom I leave you to play with. GUIDOIt was not altogether I who made of you a brainsick beast. But what youare is in part my handiwork. Nevertheless, you shall not harm this child. THE DUKE"Shall not" is a delightfully quaint expression. I only regret that youare not likely ever to use it to me again. GUIDOI know this means my ruin. THE DUKEIndeed, I must venture to remind you, Count Eglamore, that I am still aruling prince-- GUIDOThat is nothing to me. THE DUKEAnd that, where you are master of very admirable sentiments, I happen tobe master of all Tuscany. GUIDOAt court you are the master. At your court in Florence I have seen manymothers raise the veil from their daughters' faces because you werepassing. But here upon this hill-top I can see only the woman I love andthe man who has insulted her. THE DUKESo all the world is changed, and Pandarus is transformed into Hector!Your words are very sonorous words, dear Eglamore, but by what deedsdo you propose to back them? GUIDOBy killing you, your highness. THE DUKEBut in what manner? By stifling me with virtuous rhetoric? Hah, it israther awkward for you--is it not--that our sumptuary laws forbid youmerchants to carry swords? GUIDO(_Draws his dagger. _) I think this knife will serve me, highness, to makeearth a cleaner place. THE DUKE(_Drawing his long sword. _) It would save trouble now to split you like achicken for roasting. . . . (_He shrugs, and sheathes his sword. He unbuckleshis sword-belt, and lays it aside. _) No, no, this farce ascends ininterest. So let us play it fairly to the end. I risk nothing, since fromthis moment you are useless to me, my rebellious lackey-- GUIDOYou risk your life, for very certainly I mean to kill you. THE DUKETwo go to every bargain, my friend. Now, if I kill you, it is alwaysdiverting to kill; and if by any chance you should kill me, I shall atleast be rid of the intolerable knowledge that to-morrow will be just liketo-day. _He draws his dagger. The two men engage warily but with determination, the DUKE presently advancing. GUIDO steps backward, and in the act tripsover the pedler's pack, and falls prostrate. His dagger flies from hishand. GRACIOSA, with a little cry, has covered her face. Nobody strikesan attitude, because nobody is conscious of any need to be heroic, butthere is a perceptible silence, which is broken by the DUKE'S quietvoice. _ THE DUKEWell! am I to be kept waiting forever? You were quicker in obeying mycaprices yesterday. Get up, you muddy lout, and let us kill each otherwith some pretension of adroitness. GUIDO(_Rising, with a sob. _) Ah! _He catches up the fallen dagger, and attacks the DUKE, this time withutter disregard of the rules of fence and his own safety. GUIDO drives theDUKE back. GUIDO is careless of defence, and desirous only to kill. TheDUKE is wounded, and falls with a cry at the foot of the shrine. GUIDOutters a sort of strangled growl. He raises his dagger, intending to hackat and mutilate his antagonist, who is now unconscious. As GUIDO stoops, GRACIOSA, from behind him, catches his arm. _ GRACIOSAHe gave you your life. _GUIDO turns. He drops the weapon. He speaks with great gentleness, almostwith weariness. _ GUIDOMadonna, the Duke is not yet dead. That wound is nothing serious. GRACIOSAHe spared your life. GUIDOIt is impossible to let him live. GRACIOSABut I think he only voiced a caprice-- GUIDOI think so, too, but I know that all this madman's whims are ruthless. GRACIOSABut you have power-- GUIDOPower! I, who have attacked the Duke's person! I, who have done what yourdead cousin merely planned to do! GRACIOSAGuido--! GUIDOLiving, this brain-sick beast will make of you his plaything--and, alittle later, his broken, soiled and cast-by plaything. It is thereforenecessary that I kill Duke Alessandro. _GRACIOSA moves away from him, and GUIDO rises. _ GRACIOSAAnd afterward--and afterward you must die just as Tebaldeo died! GUIDOThat is the law, madonna. But what he said is true. I am useless to him, a rebellious lackey to be punished. Whether I have his life or no, I am alost man. GRACIOSAA moment since you were Count Eglamore, whom all our nobles feared-- GUIDONow there is not a beggar in the kingdom who would change lots with me. But at least I shall first kill this kingdom's lord. _He picks up his dagger. _ GRACIOSAYou are a friendless and hunted man, in peril of a dreadful death. Buteven so, you are not penniless. These jewels here are of great value-- _GUIDO laughs, and hangs the pearls about her neck. _ GUIDODo you keep them, then. GRACIOSAThere is a world outside this kingdom. You have only to make your waythrough the forest to be out of Tuscany. GUIDO(_Coolly reflective. _) Perhaps I might escape, going north to Bologna, andthen to Venice, which is at war with the Duke-- GRACIOSAI can tell you the path to Bologna. GUIDOBut first the Duke must die, because his death saves you. GRACIOSANo, Guido! I would have Eglamore go hence with hands as clean as possible. GUIDONot even Eglamore would leave you at the mercy of this poet. GRACIOSAHow does that matter! It is no secret that my father intends to market meas best suits his interests. And the great Duke of Florence, no less, would have been my purchaser! You heard him, "I will buy this jewel, " hesaid. He would have paid thrice what any of my sisters' purchasers havepaid. You know very well that my father would have been delighted. GUIDO(_Since the truth of what she has just said is known to him by morestartling proofs than she dreams of, he speaks rather bitterly, as hesheathes the dagger. _) And I must need upset the bargain between thesejewel merchants! GRACIOSA(_Lightly. _) "No, I will not have it!" Count Eglamore must cry. (_Herhand upon his arm. _) My dear unthrifty pedler! it cost you a great deal tospeak those words. GUIDOI had no choice. I love you. (_A pause. As GRACIOSA does not speak, GUIDOcontinues, very quiet at first. _) It is a theme on which I shall notembroider. So long as I thought to use you as an instrument I could woofluently enough. Today I saw that you were frightened and helpless--oh, quite helpless. And something in me changed. I knew for the first timethat I loved you. And I knew I was not clean as you are clean. I knewthat I had more in common with this beast here than I had with you. GRACIOSA(_Who with feminine practicality, while the man talks, has reached herdecision. _) We daughters of the Valori are so much merchandise. . . . Heigho, since I cannot help it, since bought and sold I must be, one day oranother, at least I will go at a noble price. Yet I do not think I amquite worth the wealth and power which you have given up because of me. Soit will be necessary to make up the difference, dear, by loving you verymuch. _GUIDO takes her hands, only half-believing that he understands hermeaning. He puts an arm about her shoulder, holding her at a distance, thebetter to see her face. _ GUIDOYou, who had only scorn to give me when I was a kingdom's master! Wouldyou go with me now that I am homeless and friendless? GRACIOSA(_Archly. _) But to me you do not seem quite friendless. GUIDOGraciosa--! GRACIOSAAnd I doubt if you could ever find your way through the forest alone. (_But as she stands there with one hand raised to each of his shouldersher vindication is self-revealed, and she indicates her bracelet ratherindignantly. _) Besides, what else is a poor maid to do, when she isburdened with a talisman that compels her to marry the man whom she--sovery much--prefers? GUIDO(_Drawing her to him. _) Ah, you shall not regret that foolish preference. GRACIOSABut come! There is a path--(_They are gathering up the pack and itscontents, as GUIDO pauses by the DUKE. _) Is he--? GUIDOHe will not enter Hell to-day. (_The DUKE stirs. _) Already he revives, yousee. So let us begone before his attendants come. _GUIDO lifts her to the top of the wall. He lifts up the pack. _ GRACIOSAMy lute! GUIDO(_Giving it to her. _) So we may pass for minstrels on the road to Venice. GRACIOSAYes, singing the Duke's songs to pay our way. (_GUIDO climbs over thewall, and stands on the far side, examining the landscape beneath. _)Horsemen! GUIDOThe Duke's attendants fetching him new women--two more of those numerousdamsels that his song demands. They will revive this ruinous songmaker torule over Tuscany more foolishly than Eglamore governed when Eglamore wasa great lord. (_He speaks pensively, still looking down. _) It is a veryrich and lovely country, this kingdom which a half-hour since lay in thehollow of my hand. Now I am empty-handed. GRACIOSA(_With mocking reproach. _) Empty-handed! _She extends to him both her hands. GUIDO takes them, and laughs joyously, saying, _ "Come!" _as he lifts her down. _ _There is a moment's silence, then is heard the song and lute-playing withwhich the play began, growing ever more distant:. . . _ "Knights as my serfs be given; And as I will, let music go and come. " _. . . The DUKE moves. The DUKE half raises himself at the foot of thecrucifix. _ THE DUKEEglamore! I am hurt. Help me, Eglamore! (THE CURTAIN FALLS)