Chapter 2 No.2

ROME.-A Lady's Apartment, with a window open and looking into a garden. LALAGE, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which lie some books and a hand-mirror. In the background JACINTA (a servant maid) leans carelessly upon a chair.

Lalage Jacinta! is it thou?

Jacinta (pertly) Yes, ma'am, I'm here.

Lalage I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting.

Sit down!-let not my presence trouble you-

Sit down!-for I am humble, most humble.

Jacinta (aside) 'Tis time.

(Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon the chair, resting her elbows upon the back, and regarding her mistress with a contemptuous look. Lalage continues to read.)

Lalage "It in another climate, so he said,

Bore a bright golden flower, but not i' this soil!"

[pauses-turns over some leaves and resumes.]

"No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower-

But Ocean ever to refresh mankind

Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind"

Oh, beautiful!-most beautiful!-how like

To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven!

O happy land! [pauses] She died!-the maiden died!

O still more happy maiden who couldst die!

Jacinta!

[Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes,]

Again!-a similar tale

Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea!

Thus speaketh one Ferdinand in the words of the play-

"She died full young"-one Bossola answers him-

"I think not so-her infelicity

Seemed to have years too many"-Ah, luckless lady!

Jacinta! [still no answer.]

Here's a far sterner story-

But like-oh, very like in its despair-

Of that Egyptian queen, winning so easily

A thousand hearts-losing at length her own.

She died. Thus endeth the history-and her maids

Lean over her and keep-two gentle maids

With gentle names-Eiros and Charmion!

Rainbow and Dove!-Jacinta!

Jacinta (pettishly) Madam, what is it?

Lalage Wilt thou, my good Jacinta, be so kind

As go down in the library and bring me

The Holy Evangelists?

Jacinta Pshaw!

[Exit]

Lalage If there be balm

For the wounded spirit in Gilead, it is there!

Dew in the night time of my bitter trouble

Will there be found-"dew sweeter far than that

Which hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill."

[re-enter Jacinta, and throws a volume on the table]

Jacinta

(aside) There, ma'am, 's the book.

Indeed she is very troublesome.

Lalage (astonished) What didst thou say, Jacinta?

Have I done aught

To grieve thee or to vex thee?-I am sorry.

For thou hast served me long and ever been

Trustworthy and respectful.

[resumes her reading.]

Jacinta (aside) I can't believe

She has any more jewels-no-no-she gave me all.

Lalage What didst thou say, Jacinta? Now I bethink me

Thou hast not spoken lately of thy wedding.

How fares good Ugo?-and when is it to be?

Can I do aught?-is there no further aid

Thou needest, Jacinta?

Jacinta (aside) Is there no further aid!

That's meant for me.

[aloud]

I'm sure, madam, you need not

Be always throwing those jewels in my teeth.

Lalage Jewels! Jacinta,-now indeed, Jacinta, I thought not of the jewels.

Jacinta Oh, perhaps not!

But then I might have sworn it. After all,

There's Ugo says the ring is only paste,

For he's sure the Count Castiglione never

Would have given a real diamond to such as you;

And at the best I'm certain, madam, you cannot

Have use for jewels now. But I might have sworn it.

[Exit]

[Lalage bursts into tears and leans her head upon the table-after a short pause raises it.]

Lalage Poor Lalage!-and is it come to this?

Thy servant maid!-but courage!-'tis but a viper

Whom thou hast cherished to sting thee to the soul!

[taking up the mirror]

Ha! here at least's a friend-too much a friend

In earlier days-a friend will not deceive thee.

Fair mirror and true! now tell me (for thou canst)

A tale-a pretty tale-and heed thou not

Though it be rife with woe. It answers me.

It speaks of sunken eyes, and wasted cheeks,

And beauty long deceased-remembers me,

Of Joy departed-Hope, the Seraph Hope,

Inurned and entombed!-now, in a tone

Low, sad, and solemn, but most audible,

Whispers of early grave untimely yawning

For ruined maid. Fair mirror and true!-thou liest not!

Thou hast no end to gain-no heart to break-

Castiglione lied who said he loved--

Thou true-he false!-false!-false!

[While she speaks, a monk enters her apartment and approaches unobserved.]

Monk Refuge thou hast,

Sweet daughter! in Heaven. Think of eternal things!

Give up thy soul to penitence, and pray!

Lalage (arising hurriedly) I cannot pray!-My soul is at war with God!

The frightful sounds of merriment below;

Disturb my senses-go! I cannot pray-

The sweet airs from the garden worry me!

Thy presence grieves me-go!-thy priestly raiment

Fills me with dread-thy ebony crucifix

With horror and awe!

Monk Think of thy precious soul!

Lalage Think of my early days!-think of my father

And mother in Heaven! think of our quiet home,

And the rivulet that ran before the door!

Think of my little sisters!-think of them!

And think of me!-think of my trusting love

And confidence-his vows-my ruin-think-think

Of my unspeakable misery!--begone!

Yet stay! yet stay!-what was it thou saidst of prayer

And penitence? Didst thou not speak of faith

And vows before the throne?

Monk I did.

Lalage 'Tis well.

There is a vow 'twere fitting should be made-

A sacred vow, imperative and urgent,

A solemn vow!

Monk Daughter, this zeal is well!

Lalage Father, this zeal is anything but well!

Hast thou a crucifix fit for this thing?

A crucifix whereon to register

This sacred vow? [he hands her his own.]

Not that-Oh! no!-no!-no [shuddering.]

Not that! Not that!-I tell thee, holy man,

Thy raiments and thy ebony cross affright me!

Stand back! I have a crucifix myself,-

I have a crucifix! Methinks 'twere fitting

The deed-the vow-the symbol of the deed-

And the deed's register should tally, father!

[draws a cross-handled dagger and raises it on high.]

Behold the cross wherewith a vow like mine

Is written in heaven!

Monk Thy words are madness, daughter,

And speak a purpose unholy-thy lips are livid-

Thine eyes are wild-tempt not the wrath divine!

Pause ere too late!-oh, be not-be not rash!

Swear not the oath-oh, swear it not!

Lalage 'Tis sworn!