Delphi Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (Illustrated) (16 page)

GUIDO
Oh, horrible!

DUCHESS
And then he groaned,
And then he groaned no more!  I only heard
The dripping of the blood upon the floor.

GUIDO
Enough, enough.

DUCHESS
Will you not kiss me now?
Do you remember saying that women’s love
Turns men to angels? well, the love of man
Turns women into martyrs; for its sake
We do or suffer anything.

GUIDO
O God!

DUCHESS
Will you not speak?

GUIDO
I cannot speak at all.

DUCHESS
Let as not talk of this!  Let us go hence:
Is not the barrier broken down between us?
What would you more?  Come, it is almost morning.
[Puts her hand on GUIDO’S.]

GUIDO
[breaking from her]
O damned saint!  O angel fresh from Hell!
What bloody devil tempted thee to this!
That thou hast killed thy husband, that is nothing -
Hell was already gaping for his soul -
But thou hast murdered Love, and in its place
Hast set a horrible and bloodstained thing,
Whose very breath breeds pestilence and plague,
And strangles Love.

DUCHESS
[in amazed wonder]
I did it all for you.
I would not have you do it, had you willed it,
For I would keep you without blot or stain,
A thing unblemished, unassailed, untarnished.
Men do not know what women do for love.
Have I not wrecked my soul for your dear sake,
Here and hereafter?

GUIDO
No, do not touch me,
Between us lies a thin red stream of blood;
I dare not look across it: when you stabbed him
You stabbed Love with a sharp knife to the heart.
We cannot meet again.

DUCHESS
[wringing her hands]
For you!  For you!
I did it all for you: have you forgotten?
You said there was a barrier between us;
That barrier lies now i’ the upper chamber
Upset, overthrown, beaten, and battered down,
And will not part us ever.

GUIDO
No, you mistook:
Sin was the barrier, you have raised it up;
Crime was the barrier, you have set it there.
The barrier was murder, and your hand
Has builded it so high it shuts out heaven,
It shuts out God.

DUCHESS
I did it all for you;
You dare not leave me now: nay, Guido, listen.
Get horses ready, we will fly to-night.
The past is a bad dream, we will forget it:
Before us lies the future: shall we not have
Sweet days of love beneath our vines and laugh? -
No, no, we will not laugh, but, when we weep,
Well, we will weep together; I will serve you;
I will be very meek and very gentle:
You do not know me.

GUIDO
Nay, I know you now;
Get hence, I say, out of my sight.

DUCHESS
[pacing up and down]
O God,
How I have loved this man!

GUIDO
You never loved me.
Had it been so, Love would have stayed your hand.
How could we sit together at Love’s table?
You have poured poison in the sacred wine,
And Murder dips his fingers in the sop.

DUCHESS
[throws herself on her knees]
Then slay me now!  I have spilt blood to-night,
You shall spill more, so we go hand in hand
To heaven or to hell.  Draw your sword, Guido.
Quick, let your soul go chambering in my heart,
It will but find its master’s image there.
Nay, if you will not slay me with your sword,
Bid me to fall upon this reeking knife,
And I will do it.

GUIDO
[wresting knife from her]
Give it to me, I say.
O God, your very hands are wet with blood!
This place is Hell, I cannot tarry here.
I pray you let me see your face no more.

DUCHESS
Better for me I had not seen your face.
[GUIDO recoils: she seizes his hands as she kneels.]
Nay, Guido, listen for a while:
Until you came to Padua I lived
Wretched indeed, but with no murderous thought,
Very submissive to a cruel Lord,
Very obedient to unjust commands,

As pure I think as any gentle girl
Who now would turn in horror from my hands -
[Stands up.]
You came: ah!  Guido, the first kindly words
I ever heard since I had come from France
Were from your lips: well, well, that is no matter.
You came, and in the passion of your eyes
I read love’s meaning; everything you said
Touched my dumb soul to music, so I loved you.
And yet I did not tell you of my love.
’Twas you who sought me out, knelt at my feet
As I kneel now at yours, and with sweet vows,
[Kneels.]
Whose music seems to linger in my ears,
Swore that you loved me, and I trusted you.
I think there are many women in the world
Who would have tempted you to kill the man.
I did not.
Yet I know that had I done so,
I had not been thus humbled in the dust,
[Stands up.]
But you had loved me very faithfully.
[After a pause approaches him timidly.]
I do not think you understand me, Guido:
It was for your sake that I wrought this deed
Whose horror now chills my young blood to ice,
For your sake only. 
[Stretching out her arm.]
Will you not speak to me?
Love me a little: in my girlish life
I have been starved for love, and kindliness
Has passed me by.

GUIDO
I dare not look at you:
You come to me with too pronounced a favour;
Get to your tirewomen.

DUCHESS
Ay, there it is!
There speaks the man! yet had you come to me
With any heavy sin upon your soul,
Some murder done for hire, not for love,
Why, I had sat and watched at your bedside
All through the night-time, lest Remorse might come
And pour his poisons in your ear, and so
Keep you from sleeping!  Sure it is the guilty,
Who, being very wretched, need love most.

GUIDO
There is no love where there is any guilt.

DUCHESS
No love where there is any guilt!  O God,
How differently do we love from men!
There is many a woman here in Padua,
Some workman’s wife, or ruder artisan’s,
Whose husband spends the wages of the week
In a coarse revel, or a tavern brawl,
And reeling home late on the Saturday night,
Finds his wife sitting by a fireless hearth,
Trying to hush the child who cries for hunger,
And then sets to and beats his wife because
The child is hungry, and the fire black.
Yet the wife loves him! and will rise next day
With some red bruise across a careworn face,
And sweep the house, and do the common service,
And try and smile, and only be too glad
If he does not beat her a second time
Before her child! - that is how women love.
[A pause: GUIDO says nothing.]
I think you will not drive me from your side.
Where have I got to go if you reject me? -
You for whose sake this hand has murdered life,
You for whose sake my soul has wrecked itself
Beyond all hope of pardon.

GUIDO
Get thee gone:
The dead man is a ghost, and our love too,
Flits like a ghost about its desolate tomb,
And wanders through this charnel house, and weeps
That when you slew your lord you slew it also.
Do you not see?

DUCHESS
I see when men love women
They give them but a little of their lives,
But women when they love give everything;
I see that, Guido, now.

GUIDO
Away, away,
And come not back till you have waked your dead.

DUCHESS
I would to God that I could wake the dead,
Put vision in the glazéd eves, and give
The tongue its natural utterance, and bid
The heart to beat again: that cannot be:
For what is done, is done: and what is dead
Is dead for ever: the fire cannot warm him:
The winter cannot hurt him with its snows;
Something has gone from him; if you call him now,
He will not answer; if you mock him now,
He will not laugh; and if you stab him now
He will not bleed.
I would that I could wake him!
O God, put back the sun a little space,
And from the roll of time blot out to-night,
And bid it not have been!  Put back the sun,
And make me what I was an hour ago!
No, no, time will not stop for anything,
Nor the sun stay its courses, though Repentance
Calling it back grow hoarse; but you, my love,
Have you no word of pity even for me?
O Guido, Guido, will you not kiss me once?
Drive me not to some desperate resolve:
Women grow mad when they are treated thus:
Will you not kiss me once?

GUIDO
[holding up knife]
I will not kiss you
Until the blood grows dry upon this knife,
[Wildly]
  Back to your dead!

DUCHESS
[going up the stairs]
Why, then I will be gone! and may you find
More mercy than you showed to me to-night!

GUIDO
Let me find mercy when I go at night
And do foul murder.

DUCHESS
[coming down a few steps.]
Murder did you say?
Murder is hungry, and still cries for more,
And Death, his brother, is not satisfied,
But walks the house, and will not go away,
Unless he has a comrade!  Tarry, Death,
For I will give thee a most faithful lackey
To travel with thee!  Murder, call no more,
For thou shalt eat thy fill.
There is a storm
Will break upon this house before the morning,
So horrible, that the white moon already
Turns grey and sick with terror, the low wind
Goes moaning round the house, and the high stars
Run madly through the vaulted firmament,
As though the night wept tears of liquid fire
For what the day shall look upon.  Oh, weep,
Thou lamentable heaven!  Weep thy fill!
Though sorrow like a cataract drench the fields,
And make the earth one bitter lake of tears,
It would not be enough. 
[A peal of thunder.]
Do you not hear,
There is artillery in the Heaven to-night.
Vengeance is wakened up, and has unloosed
His dogs upon the world, and in this matter
Which lies between us two, let him who draws
The thunder on his head beware the ruin
Which the forked flame brings after.
[A flash of lightning followed by a peal of thunder.]

GUIDO
Away! away!
[Exit the DUCHESS, who as she lifts the crimson curtain looks back for a moment at GUIDO, but he makes no sign.  More thunder.]
Now is life fallen in ashes at my feet
And noble love self-slain; and in its place
Crept murder with its silent bloody feet.
And she who wrought it - Oh! and yet she loved me,
And for my sake did do this dreadful thing.
I have been cruel to her: Beatrice!
Beatrice, I say, come back.
[Begins to ascend staircase, when the noise of Soldiers is heard.]
Ah! what is that?
Torches ablaze, and noise of hurrying feet.
Pray God they have not seized her.
[Noise grows louder.]
Beatrice!
There is yet time to escape.  Come down, come out!
[The voice of the DUCHESS outside.]
This way went he, the man who slew my lord.
[Down the staircase comes hurrying a confused body of Soldiers; GUIDO is not seen at first, till the DUCHESS surrounded by Servants carrying torches appears at the top of the staircase, and points to GUIDO, who is seized at once, one of the Soldiers dragging the knife from his hand and showing it to the Captain of the Guard in sight of the audience.  Tableau.]

END OF ACT III.

ACT I
V

SCENE
The Court of Justice: the walls are hung with stamped grey velvet: above the hangings the wall is red, and gilt symbolical figures bear up the roof, which is made of red beams with grey soffits and moulding: a canopy of white satin flowered with gold is set for the Duchess: below it a long bench with red cloth for the Judges: below that a table for the clerks of the court.  Two soldiers stand on each side of the canopy, and two soldiers guard the door; the citizens have some of them collected in the Court; others are coming in greeting one another; two tipstaffs in violet keep order with long white wands.

FIRST CITIZEN
Good morrow, neighbour Anthony.

SECOND CITIZEN
Good morrow, neighbour Dominick.

FIRST CITIZEN
This is a strange day for Padua, is it not? - the Duke being dead.

SECOND CITIZEN
I tell you, neighbour Dominick, I have not known such a day since the last Duke died.

FIRST CITIZEN
They will try him first, and sentence him afterwards, will they not, neighbour Anthony?

SECOND CITIZEN
Nay, for he might ‘scape his punishment then; but they will condemn him first so that he gets his deserts, and give him trial afterwards so that no injustice is done.

FIRST CITIZEN
Well, well, it will go hard with him I doubt not.

SECOND CITIZEN
Surely it is a grievous thing to shed a Duke’s blood.

THIRD CITIZEN
They say a Duke has blue blood.

SECOND CITIZEN
I think our Duke’s blood was black like his soul.

FIRST CITIZEN
Have a watch, neighbour Anthony, the officer is looking at thee.

SECOND CITIZEN
I care not if he does but look at me; he cannot whip me with the lashes of his eye.

THIRD CITIZEN
What think you of this young man who stuck the knife into the Duke?

SECOND CITIZEN
Why, that he is a well-behaved, and a well-meaning, and a well-favoured lad, and yet wicked in that he killed the Duke.

THIRD CITIZEN
’Twas the first time he did it: may be the law will not be hard on him, as he did not do it before.

SECOND CITIZEN
True.

TIPSTAFF
Silence, knave.

SECOND CITIZEN
Am I thy looking-glass, Master Tipstaff, that thou callest me knave?

FIRST CITIZEN
Here be one of the household coming.  Well, Dame Lucy, thou art of the Court, how does thy poor mistress the Duchess, with her sweet face?

MISTRESS LUCY
O well-a-day!  O miserable day!  O day!  O misery!  Why it is just nineteen years last June, at Michaelmas, since I was married to my husband, and it is August now, and here is the Duke murdered; there is a coincidence for you!

SECOND CITIZEN
Why, if it is a coincidence, they may not kill the young man: there is no law against coincidences.

FIRST CITIZEN
But how does the Duchess?

MISTRESS LUCY
Well well, I knew some harm would happen to the house: six weeks ago the cakes were all burned on one side, and last Saint Martin even as ever was, there flew into the candle a big moth that had wings, and a’most scared me.

FIRST CITIZEN
But come to the Duchess, good gossip: what of her?

MISTRESS LUCY
Marry, it is time you should ask after her, poor lady; she is distraught almost.  Why, she has not slept, but paced the chamber all night long.  I prayed her to have a posset, or some aqua-vitae, and to get to bed and sleep a little for her health’s sake, but she answered me she was afraid she might dream.  That was a strange answer, was it not?

SECOND CITIZEN
These great folk have not much sense, so Providence makes it up to them in fine clothes.

MISTRESS LUCY
Well, well, God keep murder from us, I say, as long as we are alive.

[Enter LORD MORANZONE hurriedly.]

MORANZONE
Is the Duke dead?

SECOND CITIZEN
He has a knife in his heart, which they say is not healthy for any man.

MORANZONE
Who is accused of having killed him?

SECOND CITIZEN
Why, the prisoner, sir.

MORANZONE
But who is the prisoner?

SECOND CITIZEN
Why, he that is accused of the Duke’s murder.

MORANZONE
I mean, what is his name?

SECOND CITIZEN
Faith, the same which his godfathers gave him: what else should it be?

TIPSTAFF
Guido Ferranti is his name, my lord.

MORANZONE
I almost knew thine answer ere you gave it.
[Aside.]
Yet it is strange he should have killed the Duke,
Seeing he left me in such different mood.
It is most likely when he saw the man,
This devil who had sold his father’s life,
That passion from their seat within his heart
Thrust all his boyish theories of love,
And in their place set vengeance; yet I marvel
That he escaped not.
[Turning again to the crowd.]
How was he taken?  Tell me.

THIRD CITIZEN
Marry, sir, he was taken by the heels.

MORANZONE
But who seized him?

THIRD CITIZEN
Why, those that did lay hold of him.

MORANZONE
How was the alarm given?

THIRD CITIZEN
That I cannot tell you, sir.

MISTRESS LUCY
It was the Duchess herself who pointed him out.

MORANZONE
[aside]
The Duchess!  There is something strange in this.

MISTRESS LUCY
Ay! And the dagger was in his hand - the Duchess’s own dagger.

MORANZONE
What did you say?

MISTRESS LUCY
Why, marry, that it was with the Duchess’s dagger that the Duke was killed.

MORANZONE
[aside]
There is some mystery about this: I cannot understand it.

SECOND CITIZEN
They be very long a-coming,

FIRST CITIZEN
I warrant they will come soon enough for the prisoner.

TIPSTAFF
Silence in the Court!

FIRST CITIZEN
Thou dost break silence in bidding us keep it, Master Tipstaff.
[Enter the LORD JUSTICE and the other Judges.]

SECOND CITIZEN
Who is he in scarlet?  Is he the headsman?

THIRD CITIZEN
Nay, he is the Lord Justice.
[Enter GUIDO guarded.]

SECOND CITIZEN
There be the prisoner surely.

THIRD CITIZEN
He looks honest.

FIRST CITIZEN
That be his villany: knaves nowadays do look so honest that honest folk are forced to look like knaves so as to be different.
[Enter the Headman, who takes his stand behind GUIDO.]

SECOND CITIZEN
Yon be the headsman then!  O Lord!  Is the axe sharp, think you?

FIRST CITIZEN
Ay! sharper than thy wits are; but the edge is not towards him, mark you.

SECOND CITIZEN
[scratching his neck]
I’ faith, I like it not so near.

FIRST CITIZEN
Tut, thou need’st not be afraid; they never cut the heads of common folk: they do but hang us.
[Trumpets outside.]

THIRD CITIZEN
What are the trumpets for?  Is the trial over?

FIRST CITIZEN
Nay, ’tis for the Duchess.
[Enter the DUCHESS in black velvet; her train of flowered black velvet is carried by two pages in violet; with her is the CARDINAL in scarlet, and the gentlemen of the Court in black; she takes her seat on the throne above the Judges, who rise and take their caps off as she enters; the CARDINAL sits next to her a little lower; the Courtiers group themselves about the throne.]

SECOND CITIZEN
O poor lady, how pale she is!  Will she sit there?

FIRST CITIZEN
Ay! she is in the Duke’s place now.

SECOND CITIZEN
That is a good thing for Padua; the Duchess is a very kind and merciful Duchess; why, she cured my child of the ague once.

THIRD CITIZEN
Ay, and has given us bread: do not forget the bread.

A SOLDIER
Stand back, good people.

SECOND CITIZEN
If we be good, why should we stand back?

TIPSTAFF
Silence in the Court!

LORD JUSTICE
May it please your Grace,
Is it your pleasure we proceed to trial
Of the Duke’s murder? 
[DUCHESS bows.]
Set the prisoner forth.
What is thy name?

GUIDO
It matters not, my lord.

LORD JUSTICE
Guido Ferranti is thy name in Padua.

GUIDO
A man may die as well under that name as any other.

LORD JUSTICE
Thou art not ignorant
What dreadful charge men lay against thee here,
Namely, the treacherous murder of thy Lord,
Simone Gesso, Duke of Padua;
What dost thou say in answer?

GUIDO
I say nothing.

LORD JUSTICE
[rising]
Guido Ferranti -

MORANZONE
[stepping from the crowd]
Tarry, my Lord Justice.

LORD JUSTICE
Who art thou that bid’st justice tarry, sir?

MORANZONE
So be it justice it can go its way;
But if it be not justice -

LORD JUSTICE
Who is this?

COUNT BARDI
A very noble gentleman, and well known
To the late Duke.

LORD JUSTICE
Sir, thou art come in time
To see the murder of the Duke avenged.
There stands the man who did this heinous thing.

MORANZONE
My lord,
I ask again what proof have ye?

LORD JUSTICE
[holding up the dagger]
This dagger,
Which from his blood-stained hands, itself all blood,
Last night the soldiers seized: what further proof
Need we indeed?

MORANZONE
[takes the danger and approaches the DUCHESS]
Saw I not such a dagger
Hang from your Grace’s girdle yesterday?
[The DUCHESS shudders and makes no answer.]
Ah! my Lord Justice, may I speak a moment
With this young man, who in such peril stands?

LORD JUSTICE
Ay, willingly, my lord, and may you turn him
To make a full avowal of his guilt.
[LORD MORANZONE goes over to GUIDO, who stands R. and clutches him by the hand.]

MORANZONE
[in a low voice]
She did it!  Nay, I saw it in her eyes.
Boy, dost thou think I’ll let thy father’s son
Be by this woman butchered to his death?
Her husband sold your father, and the wife
Would sell the son in turn.

GUIDO
Lord Moranzone,
I alone did this thing: be satisfied,
My father is avenged.

LORD JUSTICE
Doth he confess?

GUIDO
My lord, I do confess
That foul unnatural murder has been done.

FIRST CITIZEN
Why, look at that: he has a pitiful heart, and does not like murder; they will let him go for that.

LORD JUSTICE
Say you no more?

GUIDO
My lord, I say this also,
That to spill human blood is deadly sin.

SECOND CITIZEN
Marry, he should tell that to the headsman: ’tis a good sentiment.

GUIDO
Lastly, my lord, I do entreat the Court
To give me leave to utter openly
The dreadful secret of this mystery,
And to point out the very guilty one
Who with this dagger last night slew the Duke.

LORD JUSTICE
Thou hast leave to speak.

DUCHESS
[rising]
I say he shall not speak:
What need have we of further evidence?
Was he not taken in the house at night
In Guilt’s own bloody livery?

LORD JUSTICE
[showing her the statute]
Your Grace
Can read the law.

DUCHESS
[waiving book aside]
Bethink you, my Lord Justice,
Is it not very like that such a one
May, in the presence of the people here,
Utter some slanderous word against my Lord,
Against the city, or the city’s honour,
Perchance against myself.