Porzia

For there has come of late into her mindA dread that has dried life within her breasts.Matteo (who pales).And am I God, woman, to keep dread from her?Marina.Tending to it a strangeness comes upon her,And with the sudden seizure of it, fear —Shudders of horror, instincts of some evilThat she somehow has suffered, or committed —

[Pauses.

Matteo (paler).What do you mean!Marina.As one within a trance.Matteo.And do you mean – ?Marina.A mood seizes her fleshThat creeps against her will whene'er unto herThe little one is pressed.Matteo (trembling).This is a lie!Marina.She cannot look upon it, but with terror,That brings remorseAwakening more terror!The blight of heresy, she strives to thinkOf her lord's heresy is sent upon her,Or of her own refusal, it may be,To wed the Convent, not the carnal world.Matteo.To you she said this?Marina.Ah! and Madonna! her sleep!She walks with eyes wide open.Matteo.I say you lie.You do! as if Eternity were not, —

[Seizes her wrist.

To frighten me and Signor Osio!Marina (coldly, stingingly).And yet you understand? ha, understand?And hoarsely stare at words upon my lipsThat should be meaningless as moony madness?You penetrateWhat not the Pope himself,Nor any could, but with a guilty knowledge?There's villainy I say, and you are in it,The tool of a blind villain, who should beWhere now his brother rots, but that the ChurchIs no more Christ's!Ah, ah! my nails could tearYour hated false caresses from my flesh,Your kisses from my memory and fling themUpon your wicked heart. And, for your master,The Virgin strangle him! She – or another!

[Meaningly.

Another!Matteo (startled).What? what say you?Marina.That – one – will!For do not think such sins go unavenged.

[Starts to go.

Matteo.I say, what do you hint! Stand! there is more!

[Seizes her and clasps her to him.

More! and I'll have it, by the crater of Hell!More – and your lips shall tell it with a kiss.Marina.Off me! (Struggling.) And if you do not get from here —

[Breaks free.

Before Signora Bianca —Matteo.Ah! Ahi!It has to do then with the Florentine?Who is as pagan as that devil Venus,

[Points to statue.

Yet prates to priests as subtly as my masterWho will not play Love with her?By the Passion and Blood of God, has she againGone jealous to Monsignor Querio,To get undone the doors of the Inquisition,So that your master …? has she?Marina.They are open! —O would I who o'erheard might tell my lady! —And Signor Rizzio goes free to-day!Free to return here unto his own home!Free to cast from him a year's ignorance,A year's imprisonment beyond the paleOf any word or messageAnd learn how on his wedding-day when heWas seized and on his wedding-night when heExpected to return… At that you quail?Begone then, or —Matteo (gnashing).The jealousy of women!Their hearts are devil-pots that ever boil. —But this is cud for Signor Osio,So get you in at once unto your mistressAnd say — Enter Bianca suddenly in agitationBianca (looking about, with alarm).Where is my cousin? (Calls) Porzia! Porzia! —She must return at once – unto the child:Her mood is perilous and must be pent.

[As they stare.

Did you not see her? (Impatient.) Am I ProserpineTo make such gaping ghosts of you? I say,Was she not here?Marina.Signora – ?Bianca.She hung, haunted,

[Searching again.

By the child's cradle – there a little since,But suddenly rose up and fled from it,Saying – she would wed death!Marina.Wed death! Signora!Bianca.Yes; I was near. Her words – that struck me stark.I could not speak. Do you know aught of this,You who have seen these dark distractions in her?Or does this … drone of Signor Osio?

[Toward Matteo.

What brings him here?Matteo.Marina there.Bianca.Ha, yes!

[At door rear.

The honey from that flower – but what else?

[At door right.

Marina, yes, for you have been with herToo often under the moon, but there is moreBehind you than yourself. Your master hasNot sent you?Matteo.Yes, Signora. To your beautyHe sends salute; and to your lady cousinWho … O Signora, see! (staring) upon the terrace!

[He has broken off awestruck.

See, see! Oh, in her hand there is … Oh! – oh!

[They turn and behold Porzia trancedly approaching, a stiletto before her and her lips moving obliviously.

Porzia.And should I not, Madonna, if … O should I?Would you in heaven not assuage and shrive me?Make the wound seem as holy as were Christ's?Miraculously make —Bianca.Porzia!Porzia.Make – (dazed)Bianca.Porzia, do you dream!Porzia (startled).Bianca! (dropping blade) You?

[A pause.

Bianca.This speech to weapons! this distraction. WhatAnd whence and why is it? Your child —Porzia (quickly).Yes, yes!..

[A little incoherent.

I went into the garden to wait Aloysius,My uncle Aloysius, who is a leech.I have not slept… What is it I am saying?

[Seeing Matteo.

Is that one come to tell —Bianca.He is the servant —Of Osio.Porzia (with recoil).Of Osio?.. Of Osio?

[Trembling.

Matteo.Signora, yes. He sends me with a message.He begs that he may see you.Porzia.See?Matteo.ImploresThat this strange shrinking from him and aversion,This pale … and unintelligible … repulsionYou have of late —Porzia.Go back to him! go, go!

[Struggling: with solemn abhorrence.

And say I cannot see him. He is my brother,My husband's brother,Whom I pray to honor.And is much like my husband:A likeness that unreasonably, it may be,I shudder to look upon: and yet —Matteo.He bade meTo say, Signora, nothing must prevent;That it concerns —Porzia.See him I will not, ever!

[With utter repugnance.

And cannot and should not tho he sought me inThat time which lies beyond eternity,That space which is beyond the brink of all.What thing it is haunting his heart I know not.But in his presence all my flesh becomesA shudder of horror,All my soul a fear.My husband's brother is he, my poor husband's,But he… Go, go!.. and tell him that strange drawingsAnd strange repulsions pass the hearts of thoseWhom grief has gathered upon; and that I whoUpon my wedding-day had torn from me —

[Suddenly, uncontrollably.

Say, say I would he were not on the earth!Bianca (amazed, suspicious).Porzia! what is this!Porzia.I know not: go!

[He goes, then Marina, fearful. An over-fraught pause.

Bianca (at length, jealously).For this there is a reason – and but one.You love, you love him!Porzia.Love … whom?Bianca.Osio!Yet dare not so you draw him with denials,Knowing that to repel is to entrain him.

[As Porzia stares, stupefied.

O mockery of it! fools my eyes were, fools,That stood within my head and did not see!To me he spoke of love – yearning for you,And in me heard but echoes of you … ever!Yet, since you loved him,Why unto his brother,A heretic o'erturning God with stars,Did you —Porzia (sinking to a divan).I pray you speak things possible,Tho to your sight I seem and to my ownLike one unnatural beyond belief!A child I have whom fever now is burning,A husband all unhallowed in a prison …Tho to my dreams last night he seemed to come.

[Bianca starts.

And so you must forgive me if blind shrinkings,That to your sight seem semblances of love,Unhelpably o'ertake me.Bianca.Then – confessWhy Osio seeks you and why so you shun him?And with the child why are your ways so wild?You fear sometimes to touch it,As if it were another's, or at your breastCould only drink of horror.Porzia (rising).Ah!.. ah, ah!Bianca.Love is it, love, I say, of Osio,That motherhood itself cannot amend,And Rizzio shall hear of it – this day.Porzia.He … there in the darkness … can hear naught!Leave me, I pray, to wait Aloysius.Why comes he not?.. Ah, and why do you rend me?For you would not indeed to RizzioAdd demon doubts …Of me who am to him there in the nightSun, moon and the white galaxy of starsSuch as not even Messer Bruno dreams…For, if you would, are you indeed BiancaWho, as a child, sang with me under the olivesAnd cypresses; or watched with wonder eyesThe fisherman draw marvels from the deep,Then homeward wing at eve to Ischia?I cannot think it!.. yet …!

[Again distraught.

O what is it I dread! what thing has changedAll natural thoughts within me to repugnance,All instincts and desires into terror?I cannot touch my flesh, but I turn coldAs if I had touched pollution, cannot pressMy child unto my breasts, but … true, Oh, true!..A madness whispers in me, "Take it away!"

[Staring, hauntedly.

And too, and too … in solitude the wantOf Rizzio imprisoned comes to me;Yet when I reach for him I seem enclaspedBy unknown arms … in the sere dark, that … Oh!Now, now I feel them! off!

[A knock at the gate.

(Starting) Ah, ah, Aloysius!..With healing! he at last! (moving toward door) Uncle, the child —

[Stops rooted to the floor for Osio has suddenly entered. He does not speak, nor she, but only Bianca, who looks at them, uttering his name then turning goes.

Osio (at length, tortured).You shut me from your presence and your doors,My messages return to me unopened,My messengers unhonored – yet I've come,For speak to you I must, and utterly!Porzia (gazing).Lord Jesu!Osio.Ai, Lord Jesu! let Him hear!For if ever He huddled in a Manger,Or hung, a red atonement, on the Cross —If you are not soul-bound to heresy,You must…Porzia.Oh, oh! why are you here?Osio.Why?.. Peace!Can you not listen to me without terrorNot look upon meWithout eyes where aweSits like a murdered thing, or without handsThat flutter at your heart unfalteringly?I am your brother.Porzia.I … will hold you so.Osio.But more than sister are you to my breast.Porzia.Ah!Osio.More, and I would save you from the flamesThat bind you to a heretic and Hell.Nay, stay! do not start from me; stay, do not!But hear me, for not that alone has led me,Not that alone,But love unbearable —Such as not any lips in all the worldHave sung, or any famed for it have breathedUpon the pagan pages of a book:For they were heathen all, in penance nowUpon the sulphur winds that sweep Inferno,While I —Porzia (whose look stops him).While, you, you, inordinate,Speak baseness so unto your brother's wife?Osio.His, no! no more! no more! for heresyHas rent from him all rights, therefore I dareTo hunger for you, and to pledge the PopeWill grant us dispensation —Porzia.Oh! Oh, oh!

[Overwhelmed with loathing.

Osio.You will not heed it, will not come with me?Porzia.Madonna, wash his words out of my brain,

[Her hands lifted.

And from my memory purge their pollution!(To him) Go, go!..And may the poison of you never passAcross my sight again.Osio.It will – to save you,For mine you are – God wills it! – and … have been!Porzia.Oh!Osio.Have! – it was predestined – by His breath.Was he to see you mate a heretic,Or from your body spring the Anti-Christ?A year ago you wedded one, and IWas ready with the hands of the Inquisition.They seized him with his pagan pride upon him,And from this house of feasting and of flowersHe went. You had a message brought from MatteoSaying he would return to you at midnight.I came, and in the darkness of the bower,Which God made darker,You took my arms for his! – were mine, were mine!Porzia (who has sunk to a seat, rising).Never! – But now I know what I have feared,What dread it is invisibly has bound me —Invisibly, unvariably!.. I know,And so shall break it!Your thought has been to shadow me aboutWith this unceasing thing, to make me soBelieve – and so obtain me!Your voice, eyes, lips and being with this purposeHave held my soul unswervably to fear,But now it is free! free, free!Osio.And will be whenRizzio comes?Porzia.Rizzio?Osio.Out of prison?

[As she gazes at him.

I tell you the child is mine! for RizzioReturned not to you. Mine, mine, and you mustProtect it and yourself.Porzia.From – ?.. do you mean?O do you mean that he may come? that youExpect him, O and soon? and that Bianca – ?Osio.I mean no mysteries, but that the childIs mine —And you may be —And all be well.Porzia.But he will come? you have some intimation?Some waft of his release, some prescience?But say it and I will forgive you all!Say that my arms once more shall clasp him to me!Say that my heart once more shall beat to his!Say that my eyes once more shall drink the dawnFrom his, and I —Osio.Be still. For if you will notNow, now be mine, one thing must be assuredBeyond the sway of peril:It must be kept from him there is a child.Porzia.Never! but I will lay it in his arms,Unto the cradle of his bosom bring it —While I have hands of purity to lift it —And —Osio.Have him fling it forth? Hush! what is here?

[A knocking at the gate: amazed cries: then Rizzio's voice.

Porzia.Rizzio! Rizzio! Rizzio!Rizzio (without).Porzia! Porzia!

[He enters, weak and worn, in tattered raiment, and comes down to where she gazes too overcome to embrace him.

Rizzio.My Porzia! (With a clasp.) O do I look upon you,Not on some prison vision that will vanishBetween my arms to nothingness of air?Some wan and hollow haunting of the night?Look up into my soul and speak to meWith eyes that are incarnate songs of love!Ah, what, you cannot?The swiftness of my coming has undone you?Porzia.No, no!Rizzio.Then give reality to dreams,Linking your lips to mine!.. Oh, oh! at last!At last I know I liveAnd am more thanA madness in miasmic night immured!And that eternity of want can end —Upon your breast – within this house where – (Seeing Osio) You?

[With inexplicable antagonism.

Osio.I … and I have no welcome for you, knowingThat heresy is still hot in your heart.Rizzio.For which you with accursèd joy are glad?..

[Osio goes rankling into garden.

What does he here, my Porzia? what does he?

[Troubled.

Has he been much with you? Sometimes there inMy fetters I have fought strange dreams of him,Battled against him as against a broodOf elemental horrors and contagion.Yet when I would awake —Porzia (clinging fearfully).My Rizzio!..Rizzio.Ai, yours! when hope was darkest, when the linksOf wolvish steel were feeding on my bone.

[Holds out wrists.

Or like a python wound me as I slept.Porzia.The pity of my heart and lips shall heal them.

[With caresses.

Rizzio.They and the passion of you, and the peaceAnd beauty of your body and your soul,That were torn from me at the very altar,But now – purer for waiting – shall be mine.Porzia (trembling).Yes, yes, Rizzio!Rizzio.Say, say it again!For oh, the jealous fears that have defiled me,The visions I have called a lie in vain,The hot hands I have seen laid on your beauty!

[To her look of helplessness.

O say it! for you gaze – as if you could not!As if … O what is wringing you! You canNot say it – that no arms but mine have held you,No lips but mine have ever lingered, ever – ?

[A pitiful cry of distress breaks from within, then a hurry of feet and Marina rushes on anguished.

Marina.My lady! O my lady!.. the child! the child!Porzia (swaying).What is it? Speak!Marina.My lady, it is dead!

[A wild pause.

Porzia.Dead? dead? my child? my little one? my own?My baby?.. Oh; oh, oh!.. oh, oh, oh, oh!

[She stretches her arms distractedly before her and goes.

Rizzio (who has staggered, dazed, and is frenziedly realizing).God, God, the madness … is this then the madness…At last!..Her child? her child? and I – never a husband?She has a child and I am childless! I!..Have I been tricked, beaten, betrayed, undone,Duped by a lie of low inconstancy.

[To Marina.

Speak, quean!Marina.O sir, I know not what to say!Rizzio.Tho truth bays wild, fool-face!Marina.Sir, sir, I cannot!But hold, I pray you! for she is … she … Ah!

[Has cried out, for the curtains have parted and Porzia is entering – the dead child in her arms, her eyes gazing sightlessly.

Rizzio (who looks at her, racked, laughs wildly, then rushes to door).At last, at last the heretic's in Hell!

[Breaks past Aloysius entering, and is gone.

Marina (to the leech).O Signor Aloysius, my poor, poor lady!

[Weeping.

My lady! O what now, what now shall heal her!Aloysius.Go in, prepare her bed, and I will bring her.In, in, I say! (as she goes; to the mother) Porzia!

[Gently.

[She does not answer.

Come, Porzia!Porzia.Yes, yes; is the grave ready?Then let the clod fall softly, and the shroudNot wake him, for he sleeps. And let there beSome orange blossoms too … some orange blossoms!

[She permits him to lead her in, still gazing before her.

Curtain.

ACT III

Night of the Next Day

Scene: The terrace of Act I, but lit wanly now by the moon, whose sheen is cast like a pall over the city and kindles the Bay to quivering silver. Thro the open door of the house and from the window of Porzia's chamber which is just above the image of the Virgin, light falls streaming toward the Pan and toward the deeply shadowed bower. A stone seat is set to the front centre.

Osio, haunted and desperate, stands without the bower, watching Matteo who is stealthily coming down from the pedestal of the Virgin where he has climbed to listen, and who crosses the terrace to him.

Osio.Her words! give me her words – and them alone!What were they?Matteo.I could learn no more, Signor.The fever is tossing her.Osio.To peril of death?She is sinking now down into ceaseless Hell,Where he shall follow?Is swooning low to it?And to eternal flame?Matteo.I do not know.But burningly she sleeps. (Uneasily.) Shall we not go?

[Looks around.

For if we here are found —Osio.They have not brought herThe Sacrament?Matteo.No priest is there, Signor.Osio.The child, she asks for it?Matteo.I seemed to hearSignora Bianca say that since the morningWhen it was borne in secret to the tombShe has not.But still her moan's of Signor Rizzio,Who has not yet returned, tho still they seek him.Osio (bitterly).Her blood be on his head! upon his head!And not on mine, that has not swayed to schism,If death is calling now for her damnation.No, I am pure of it!Matteo.But should he come?

[Again looks around.

Osio.I'll fear him not. Never! For odiumIt were to God that I a moment should —Him black with unbelief!But come he will not … since he left deluded.Or if he should a voice has pledged to meFull absolution if —Matteo.What, Signor?Osio.Peace!He will not. So again mount up!Matteo (unwillingly).Signor!Osio.Mount, mount, and strain the most to get me more.

[Matteo loathly crosses and again ascends the pedestal. But scarcely has done so when a knock comes at the gate. He steps down into the shadow of the image – Osio into bower. Then Marina appears from the house hesitantly.

Marina.Who knocks? Signor Aloysius, is it you?Aloysius.Ai, ai! and weary: open!

[Being admitted.

This day! this day!The search till he was found; and then the toil —The patient physic pouredVainly it seemed unto the proud or poor.

[Taking off medicine pouch.

But it at last is done. Now, the relief —He came reluctant? and to her outpouredA lava of wild purpose and revengeWhen he was told?Marina.He? (Staring.) Signor Rizzio?You have not brought him?Aloysius.Brought? Is he not here?Marina (dismayed).Signor!Aloysius.But how? but how? (dropping pouch.) Not he? and Bruno?Who had been with him,Whom he had but leftTo search, sudden it seemed, for Osio?Not Bruno! whom I pledged to find and lead himHere to her – since we learned that OsioHas fled from Naples?Marina.Signor, neither! none!

[Involuntarily.

O he must come, or she will die!Aloysius.… Die?..Marina.New evils gather ever in vendetta!Aloysius.You run from them too rapidly to death,Which comes but when it will – and not from sleepIn which I left her.Marina.But her sleep has grownTo fever that has flowed into her brain!Her heart is full of moans,Her lips of murmurs!She tore the crucifix from off her neckAnd flung it from her, saying that it wasThe arms of Osio; and then cried outThat she was virgin and immaculatelyHad borne a child, that now was laid in the tomb,But should arise again. Then would she startAnd say there is no God, but only stars,But stars, a heaven of stars! For which SignoraBianca ignorant arose and chid her.Aloysius.And all unduly did! This must be stayed,Not made immedicable.Go in; prepare the herbs that I left with you.

[She goes – as he stands pondering – past Bianca, who enters.

Bianca (pausing, then with resolute bitterness).So you have come and have not brought him? Well,The insult of this secrecy must end,The shrouding and affronting soil of it.I'll sift in doubt no more, but have the truth.Aloysius.Signora?Bianca.O, fatality's in the world,From atom to infinity it may be,But there is also sinning. Which is this?And whence is itIf she though sunk in sleepSays ever "I must go into the bower!"And ever with elusive lips "the bower!"Whom would she meet?Aloysius.The bower?Bianca.Whom! or ifNo guilt is in her why this grievous haunting?Aloysius.I will go to her.Bianca (angrily).So to evade confessing?To avoid grantingThat it is Osio?That it is he has been her paramour?That he it is has plundered her with passion —Whose proof is the childWhich Heaven has struck dead?Will go? Nor first denyThat rightly Rizzio has turned from herAnd now perchance is seeking Osio —

[Breaks off, for the gate opens and Rizzio slowly enters. A deadly purpose is on him as he looks around.

Rizzio (at length).You clothe my thought,Bianca, in the fleshOf speech that I have shunned: but we shall know —Soon know, for I have tracked him to this gate.

[To Aloysius, solemnly.

Where is he?Aloysius (amazed).He?.. Osio?Rizzio.So! reveal him!Aloysius.But – this is error!.. he is gone from Naples!Rizzio.Or wrapped in lies is hidden here for her?By the very God of the world, I say – (With restraint.) But … no!Aloysius.And "no" until you trust it! For her fateIs not as you suppose.Rizzio.Nor his? Nor he!This bigot whose religion's lechery?This monk to whom licentiousness is God?This monster I illimitably loathe?

[Searching as he speaks.

I say that he is here; that I will find him;That, I have tracked him to you, and … (suddenly) Aha!

[Discovers Matteo under image.

Aha! from Naples he is gone? from Naples?

[Drawing Matteo forth.

But leaves his shadow here?Matteo (terrified).Signor! Signor!

[Cringes.

Rizzio.From Naples he is sped, but at the feetOf the Virgin he adores drops this devotion?

[Slowly, terribly.

Unpitiable toad – of filth begotten!Pander who should go down into the PitAnd be the go-between of burning lusts,Where lurks he?Matteo.Signor! (chokes) Signor! I will show.You shall have all; but let me live, Signor.I have a father crippled who would starveBut for the gold I get…And she, Signora Porzia's innocent.Rizzio.And virgin too! with that obliterationYou'll clothe her! Heaven's Queen, do I not knowWhat Nature and conception are!Aloysius (trembling).Ai, so!And of them there is no denial here.That she has given birth, herself has told you,Herself… The child was hers, but —Rizzio.Born of miraclesAnd of imaginations and of dreams?Is this JudeaAnd a day divine,Not Italy and unregeneration,Where God deputes the world to Borgias?The father of it was he – he and no other!Aloysius.But in her innocence she —Rizzio.Yielded! Yielded!And clung to him as the harlot moon to earth.Aloysius.No, no!Rizzio.Thro nights and nights!Aloysius.Never; but dupedAnd unaware she took his arms for yours,Believed, tho by yon moon, I know not how,Unless she was entranced,That you had come to meet her in the bower,And —Marina enters suddenly terrifiedMarina.Signor! Signor Aloysius! O quick!O come to her! She has arisen!Aloysius.Risen!Marina.O, in her sleep! and will not to her bedReturn, but says with eyes empty of sightThat it is time —Aloysius.For what?Marina (hesitant, distressed).To … meet him inThe bower!Aloysius (quickly).I will come to her.Rizzio (burningly).Ah! ah!

[Starts before him.