Part 3 (1/2)

_Cesario._ Release?

_Lucio (mocking a chant within the Chapel)._ From priests and petticoats Deliver us, Good Lord!

_Gamba (strikes a chord on viol). AMEN!_

_Cesario._ Count Lucio, These seven years agone, when the Duke sailed, You were a child--a pretty, forward boy; And I a young lieutenant of the Guard, Burning to serve abroad. But that day, rather, I clenched my nails over an inward wound: For that a something manlier than my years-- Look, bearing, what-not--by the Duke not miss'd, Condemned me to promotion: I must bide At home, command the Guard! 'Tis an old hurt, But scalded on my memory.... Well, they sailed!

And from the terrace here, sick with self-pity, Wrapped in my wrong, forgetful of devoir, I watch'd them through a mist--turned with a sob-- Uptore my rooted sight-- There, there she stood; Her hand press'd to her girdle, where the babe Stirred in her body while she gazed--she gazed-- But slowly back controlled her eyes, met mine; So--with how wan, how small, how brave a smile!-- Reached me her hands to kiss ...

O royal hands!

What burdens since they have borne let Adria tell.

But hear me swear by them, Count Lucio-- Who slights our Regent throws his glove to me.

_Lucio._ Why, soothly, she's my sister!

_Cesario._ 'But the court Is dull? No masques, few banquetings--and prayers Be long, and youth for pastime leaps the gate?'

Yet if the money husbanded on feasts Have fed our soldiery against the Turk, Year after year, and still the State not starved; Was't not well done? And if, responsible To G.o.d, and lonely, she has leaned on G.o.d Too heavily for our patience, was't not wise?-- And well, though weary?

_Lucio._ I tell you, she's my sister!

_Cesario._ Well, an you will, bridle on that. Lord Lucio, You named the Countess Fulvia. To my sorrow, Two hours ago I called on her and laid her Under arrest.

_Lucio._ The devil! For what?

_Cesario._ For that A lady, whose lord keeps summer in the hills To nurse a gouty foot, should penalize His dutiful return by shutting doors And hanging out a ladder made of rope, Or prove its safety by rehearsing it Upon a heavier man.

_Lucio._ I'll go to her.

Oh, this is infamous!

_Cesario._ Nay, be advised: No hards.h.i.+p irks the lady, save to sit At home and feed her sparrows; nor no worse Annoy than from her balcony to spy (Should the eye rove) a Switzer of the Guard At post between her raspberry-canes, to watch And fright the thrushes from forbidden fruit.

_Lucio._ Infamous! infamous!

_Cesario._ Enough, my lord: The Regent!

[_Doors of the Chapel open. The organ sounds, with voices of choir chanting the recessional.

The Court enters from Ma.s.s, attending the Regent Ottilia and her son Tonino. She wears a crown and heavy dalmatic. Her brother Lucio, controlling himself with an effort, kisses her hand and conducts her to the marble bench, which serves for her Chair of State. She bows, receiving the homage of the crowd; but, after seating herself, appears for a few moments unconscious of her surroundings. Then, as her rosary slips from her fingers and falls heavily at her feet, she speaks._

_Regent._ So slips the chain linking this world with Heaven, And drops me back to earth: so slips the chain That hangs my spirit to the Redeemer's cross Above pollution in the pure swept air Whereunder frets this hive: so slips the chain-- _(She starts up)_--G.o.d! the dear sound! Was that his anchor dropped?

Speak to the watchman, one! Call to the watch!

What news?

_Cesario._ Aloft! What news?

_Voice above._ No sail as yet!

_Regent._ Ah, pardon, sirs! My ears are strung to-day, And play false airs invented by the wind.