[AGOLANTI crosses himself, and pauses; then holds the letter apart, as if in disgust; and then again resumes his self-possession.
Giulio, I think since first I took thee from
The orphan college, now some three years back,
I have been no unkind master to thee, nor poor one;
Have stinted thee in nought fitting thy station,
Nor hurt thy growth and blooming?
Giu.
Sir, you hired me
For certain duties, which, with kindly allowance
For faults of youth, I hope I have perform'd.
My life has been most happy; and my lady
Most bountiful to her poor songster. [Sheds tears.
Ago.
Thou
Hast haply saved some little treasure then,
Against thy day of freedom?
What freedom should I think of, being free
From thought itself, and blithe as the blue day?
Ago. Antonio Rondinelli is not rich.
His mother and he hide in proud poverty
From all but a few friends.
He gave me a jewel, ere I knew him poor,
Worth twenty golden florins; and his cap
Starv'd for it many a month.
Produce new duties, Giulio; to the hurt
Sometimes of old ones; and 'tis wise betimes
To see they vex and tangle not. These mixtures
Of services, these new pure confidences
With masters not thine own,-these go-betweens
"Twixt virtue and virtue,-loves desiring not
Their own desires, and such like angel-adulteries
(Heav'n pardon me the word!)-suit me not, Giulio,
Nor a wise house. Therefore, before thine innocent
Lady, (for such, with mutual love, I own her,
And scorn of this poor fop) learns dangerous pity
Of thy fair-seeming messages,-dangerous,
Not to her virtue, but her virtue's fame,-
This house thou leavest. Thou wouldst taste the
Of poverty, and will, and kinless freedom- [pride
Do so! And when thou learn'st how friendship
In treachery and in thanklessness begun, [ends,
And the cold crust turns bitter and quarrelsome,
Blame not thou me; nor think those tears are ray-
For guilt on thy side, and for love on mine! [ment
Giulio [Aside.] Love! what a word from him,
Thus thrust upon the world, he knows not whither! [Aloud]. Sir, you mistake my tears; but 'tis no Guilty or not, I cannot quit this house [matter. With thoughts less kind than sorrow.-Sir, farewell.
[Exit. Ago. 'Twas virtuously done, if not most falsely, This seemingly celestial aversion
Of the very eyesight from unlawful words.
Or was it part of the system ?-of the show,-
Which frets me daily with malign excess
Of undemanded patience? cold at best,
Resentful as the worst! Antonio,
I do suspect, she loves not; me, I know,
She hates; me, whom she should love; whom was
And sworn to love; for which contempt and wrong,
Fools, that love half a story and whole blame,
Begin to babble against the person wrong'd!
Times are there, when I feel inclin❜d to sweep
The world away from me, and lead my own
Life to myself, unlook'd into with eyes
That know me not; but use, and sympathy
Even with those that wrong me, and the right
Of comely reputation, keep me still
Wearing a show of good with a griev'd heart.
Sero. My lady, sir, hearing of your return
Home suddenly, and having visitors,
Entreats the honour of your presence.
To test this hateful gossip. "Suddenly;
Was that her word, or the knave's? No matter. Who are they?
Sero.
Lady Diana, with two gentlemen ;
Strangers, I think, sir; one a Roman gentleman,
Come from his Holiness's court.
Lady Olimpia, and her friend
Doubtless, I saw this morning; by which token
The other is the sneering amorist,
Da Riva. He, I thought, respected me;
But see he knows these women, they AntonioHave I been hasty? or is-The black plague choke All meddlers with
[To the Servant. I will come speedily.
SCENE III. Another Room in AGOLANTI's house. GINEVRA, OLIMPIA, DIANA, COLONNA, and Da Riva, discovered sitting. FIORDILISA standing behind her lady's chair.
Olim. Dearest lady Ginevra, to remain
Shut up when all the world are at the windows,
Or otherwise owning the great common joy,
Is clearly impossible. Observe now, pray :—
On Friday the Pope comes; Saturday, chapel
At the Annunziata ;-Sunday, at Saint Lorenzo;
Monday, the chase; Tuesday, the race; Wednes-
day,
The tilts and drama; and on Thursday he goes.
So there's six lives for you; a life a day,
To make you well again, and merry, and careless. Col. Most vital arguments?
Remember, Lady Olimpia, I have been ill
I am but getting better, and such draughts
Of pleasure and amazement, pour'd unceasing,
Might drown the little faculties of poor me.
Diana. One day-could you not try one day, and
Enjoy or fear another as it suited ?
[then
Olim. Ay, one-one-one. Try but one day, and
Trust me if one day would not give you strength For pretty little two, and prettier three.
Riva. And, madam, the first day is both the noblest And the most gentle,-a flow of princely draperies Through draperied streets; bringing us, it is true, Emotion, but yet soothing it, and blessing
With sacred hand. Weakness itself is touch'd
At ceremonial sights like these, with sweet
And no unstrengthening tears, bathing humility
In heavenly reassurance. And, dear lady,
"Twill give a nature, so composed as yours
With Christian grace and willing cheerfulness,
A joy at once sacred, and earthly, and charming,
To see the face of the accomplish'd man
Whom Providence, most potent seen, when mildest,
Has raised to be the prince of Christendom
In this our day, when wit is questioning faith,
And mild religion answers with his eyes
Of charity, the unanswerable conclusion.
Col. Da Riva, I am to bring thy verse and thee
To his beatitude's most knowing knowledge;
But do thou step before me, and speak thus,
And thou art made a cardinal.
So very and so beautifully gracious
To eloquence and letters?
Col.
I' faith, madam,
Our blessed Father seems to be of opinion,
That whatsoever good or beauty exists
Must needs belong, like angels, to the church;
And as he finds them, where severer men
(Not the best judges of angels) might o'erlook them,
He makes us know them better; bids them come
Forth from the crowd, and show their winged wits,
And rise, and sit within his princely beams.
Olim. Come ;-you accord? you cannot resist
Sweet as all these ? and to say truth, there is
One gentle reason more, which must convince you.
We want your husband's windows, lady mine;—
They face the veriest heaven of all the streets
For seeing the procession; and how can we
Enter that paradise of a balcony
Without the house's angel? What would people
Say to the intruders, you not being there?
Gin. Oh, nothing very unseasonable, be sure ; Nor what the lilies and roses in their cheeks, And wit in their eyes, could not refute most happily. Well, dear Diana, should my husband's judgment Encourage me to think my health would bear it, I would fain venture, but I hear him coming. At all events, the windows will be gladly Fill'd with your pleasures; the report of which Will afterwards make them mine.
Olimpia and Diana you know well;
Also a name honour'd by all, Da Riva;
Be pleas'd to know their friend, a courteous gentle
From Rome, the Signor Cesare Colonna.
Ago. He's welcome for his friend's sake, and his
I trust our holy Father keeps his health, sir,
In this his gracious journey?
As his good habit is, in blest condition,
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