I have heard That sailors dying of thirst upon a raft, Poor castaways upon a lonely sea, Dream of green fields and pleasant water-courses, And then wake up with red thirst in their throats, And die more miserably because sleep Has cheated them: so they die cursing sleep For having sent them dreams: I will not curse you Though I am cast away upon the sea Which men call Desolation.
GUIDO
O God, God!
DUCHESS
But you will stay: listen, I love you, Guido.
[She waits a little.]
Is echo dead, that when I say I love you There is no answer?
GUIDO
Everything is dead, Save one thing only, which shall die to-night!
DUCHESS
If you are going, touch me not, but go.
[Exit GUIDO.]
Barrier! Barrier!
Why did he say there was a barrier?
There is no barrier between us two.
He lied to me, and shall I for that reason Loathe what I love, and what I worshipped, hate?
I think we women do not love like that.
For if I cut his image from my heart, My heart would, like a bleeding pilgrim, follow That image through the world, and call it back With little cries of love.
[Enter DUKE equipped for the chase, with falconers and hounds.]
DUKE
Madam, you keep us waiting;
You keep my dogs waiting.
DUCHESS
I will not ride to-day.
DUKE
How now, what's this?
DUCHESS
My Lord, I cannot go.
DUKE
What, pale face, do you dare to stand against me?
Why, I could set you on a sorry jade And lead you through the town, till the low rabble You feed toss up their hats and mock at you.
DUCHESS
Have you no word of kindness ever for me?
DUKE
I hold you in the hollow of my hand And have no need on you to waste kind words.
DUCHESS
Well, I will go.
DUKE
[slapping his boot with his whip]
No, I have changed my mind, You will stay here, and like a faithful wife Watch from the window for our coming back.
Were it not dreadful if some accident By chance should happen to your loving Lord?
Come, gentlemen, my hounds begin to chafe, And I chafe too, having a patient wife.
Where is young Guido?
MAFFIO
My liege, I have not seen him For a full hour past.
DUKE
It matters not, I dare say I shall see him soon enough.
Well, Madam, you will sit at home and spin.
I do protest, sirs, the domestic virtues Are often very beautiful in others.
[Exit DUKE with his Court.]
DUCHESS
The stars have fought against me, that is all, And thus to-night when my Lord lieth asleep, Will I fall upon my dagger, and so cease.
My heart is such a stone nothing can reach it Except the dagger's edge: let it go there, To find what name it carries: ay! to-night Death will divorce the Duke; and yet to-night He may die also, he is very old.
Why should he not die? Yesterday his hand Shook with a palsy: men have died from palsy, And why not he? Are there not fevers also, Agues and chills, and other maladies Most incident to old age?
No, no, he will not die, he is too sinful;
Honest men die before their proper time.
Good men will die: men by whose side the Duke In all the sick pollution of his life Seems like a leper: women and children die, But the Duke will not die, he is too sinful.
Oh, can it be There is some immortality in sin, Which virtue has not? And does the wicked man Draw life from what to other men were death, Like poisonous plants that on corruption live?
No, no, I think God would not suffer that:
Yet the Duke will not die: he is too sinful.
But I will die alone, and on this night Grim Death shall be my bridegroom, and the tomb My secret house of pleasure: well, what of that?
The world's a graveyard, and we each, like coffins, Within us bear a skeleton.
[Enter LORD MORANZONE all in black; he passes across the back of the stage looking anxiously about.]
MORANZONE
Where is Guido?
I cannot find him anywhere.
DUCHESS
[catches sight of him] O God!
'Twas thou who took my love away from me.
MORANZONE
[with a look of joy]
What, has he left you?
DUCHESS
Nay, you know he has.
Oh, give him back to me, give him back, I say, Or I will tear your body limb from limb, And to the common gibbet nail your head Until the carrion crows have stripped it bare.
Better you had crossed a hungry lioness Before you came between me and my love.
[With more pathos.]
Nay, give him back, you know not how I love him.
Here by this chair he knelt a half hour since;
'Twas there he stood, and there he looked at me;
This is the hand he kissed, and these the ears Into whose open portals he did pour A tale of love so musical that all The birds stopped singing! Oh, give him back to me.
MORANZONE
He does not love you, Madam.
DUCHESS
May the plague Wither the tongue that says so! Give him back.
MORANZONE
Madam, I tell you you will never see him, Neither to-night, nor any other night.
DUCHESS
What is your name?
MORANZONE
My name? Revenge!
[Exit.]
DUCHESS
Revenge!
I think I never harmed a little child.
What should Revenge do coming to my door?
It matters not, for Death is there already, Waiting with his dim torch to light my way.
'Tis true men hate thee, Death, and yet I think Thou wilt be kinder to me than my lover, And so dispatch the messengers at once, Harry the lazy steeds of lingering day, And let the night, thy sister, come instead, And drape the world in mourning; let the owl, Who is thy minister, scream from his tower And wake the toad with hooting, and the bat, That is the slave of dim Persephone, Wheel through the sombre air on wandering wing!
Tear up the shrieking mandrakes from the earth And bid them make us music, and tell the mole To dig deep down thy cold and narrow bed, For I shall lie within thine arms to-night.