Seven Men Part 13

Lo! my soul's chin recedes, soft to the touch As half-churn'd b.u.t.ter. Seeming hawk is dove, And dove's a gaol-bird now. Fie out upon 't!

LUC.

How comes it? I am Empress Dowager Of China--yet was never crown'd. This must Be seen to.

[Quickly gathers some straw and weaves a crown, which she puts on.]

SAV.

O, what a degringolade!

The great career I had mapp'd out for me-- Nipp'd i' the bud. What life, when I come out, Awaits me? Why, the very Novices And callow Postulants will draw aside As I pa.s.s by, and say 'That man hath done Time!' And yet shall I wince? The worst of Time Is not in having done it, but in doing 't.

LUC.

Ha, ha, ha, ha! Eleven billion pig-tails Do tremble at my nod imperial,-- The which is as it should be.

SAV.

I have heard That gaolers oft are willing to carouse With them they watch o'er, and do sink at last Into a drunken sleep, and then's the time To s.n.a.t.c.h the keys and make a bid for freedom.

Gaoler! Ho, Gaoler!

[Sounds of lock being turned and bolts withdrawn. Enter the Borgias'

FOOL, in plain clothes, carrying bunch of keys.]

I have seen thy face Before.

FOOL I saved thy life this afternoon, Sir.

SAV.

Thou art the Borgias' Fool?

FOOL Say rather, was.

Unfortunately I have been discharg'd For my betrayal of Lucrezia, So that I have to speak like other men-- Decasyllabically, and with sense.

An hour ago the gaoler of this dungeon Died of an apoplexy. Hearing which, I ask'd for and obtain'd his billet.

SAV.

Fetch A stoup o' liquor for thyself and me.

[Exit GAOLER.]

Freedom! there's nothing that thy votaries Grudge in the cause of thee. That decent man Is doom'd by me to lose his place again To-morrow morning when he wakes from out His hoggish slumber. Yet I care not.

[Re-enter GAOLER with a leathern bottle and two gla.s.ses.]

Ho!

This is the stuff to warm our vitals, this The panacea for all mortal ills And sure elixir of eternal youth.

Drink, bonniman!

[GAOLER drains a gla.s.s and shows signs of instant intoxication. SAV.

claps him on shoulder and replenishes gla.s.s. GAOLER drinks again, lies down on floor, and snores. SAV. s.n.a.t.c.hes the bunch of keys, laughs long but silently, and creeps out on tip-toe, leaving door ajar.

LUC. meanwhile has lain down on the straw in her cell, and fallen asleep.

Noise of bolts being shot back, jangling of keys, grating of lock, and the door of LUC.'S cell flies open. SAV. takes two steps across the threshold, his arms outstretched and his upturned face transfigured with a great joy.]

How sweet the open air Leaps to my nostrils! O the good brown earth That yields once more to my elastic tread And laves these feet with its remember'd dew!

[Takes a few more steps, still looking upwards.]

Free!--I am free! O naked arc of heaven, Enspangled with innumerable--no, Stars are not there. Yet neither are there clouds!

The thing looks like a ceiling! [Gazes downward.] And this thing Looks like a floor. [Gazes around.] And that white bundle yonder Looks curiously like Lucrezia.

[LUC. awakes at sound of her name, and sits up sane.]

There must be some mistake.

LUC. [Rises to her feet.]

There is indeed!

A pretty sort of prison I have come to, In which a self-respecting lady's cell Is treated as a lounge!

SAV.

I had no notion You were in here. I thought I was out there.

I will explain--but first I'll make amends.

Here are the keys by which your durance ends.

The gate is somewhere in this corridor, And so good-bye to this interior!

[Exeunt SAV. and LUC. Noise, a moment later, of a key grating in a lock, then of gate creaking on its hinges; triumphant laughs of fugitives; loud slamming of gate behind them.

In SAV.'s cell the GAOLER starts in his sleep, turns his face to the wall, and snores more than ever deeply. Through open door comes a cloaked figure.]

CLOAKED FIGURE Sleep on, Savonarola, and awake Not in this dungeon but in ruby h.e.l.l!

[Stabs Gaoler, whose snores cease abruptly. Enter POPE JULIUS II, with Papal retinue carrying torches. MURDERER steps quickly back into shadow.]

POPE [To body of GAOLER.]

Savonarola, I am come to taunt Thee in thy misery and dire abjection.

Rise, Sir, and hear me out.

MURD. [Steps forward.]

Great Julius, Waste not thy breath. Savonarola's dead.

I murder'd him.

POPE Thou hadst no right to do so.

Who art thou, pray?

MURD.

Cesare Borgia, Lucrezia's brother, and I claim a brother's Right to a.s.sa.s.sinate whatever man Shall wantonly and in cold blood reject Her timid offer of a poison'd ring.

POPE Of this anon.

[Stands over body of GAOLER.]

Our present business Is general woe. No n.o.bler corse hath ever Impress'd the ground. O let the trumpets speak it!

[Flourish of trumpets.]

This was the n.o.blest of the Florentines.

His character was flawless, and the world Held not his parallel. O bear him hence With all such honours as our State can offer.

He shall interred be with noise of cannon, As doth befit so militant a nature.

Prepare these obsequies.

[Papal officers lift body of GAOLER.]

A PAPAL OFFICER But this is not Savonarola. It is some one else.

CESARE Lo! 'tis none other than the Fool that I Hoof'd from my household but two hours agone.

I deem'd him no good riddance, for he had The knack of setting tables on a roar.

What shadows we pursue! Good night, sweet Fool, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

POPE Interred shall he be with signal pomp.

No honour is too great that we can pay him.

He leaves the world a vacuum. Meanwhile, Go we in chase of the accursed villain That hath made escapado from this cell.

To horse! Away! We'll scour the country round For Sav'narola till we hold him bound.

Then shall you see a cinder, not a man, Beneath the lightnings of the Vatican!

[Flourish, alarums and excursions, flashes of Vatican lightning, roll of drums, etc. Through open door of cell is led in a large milk-white horse, which the POPE mounts as the Curtain falls.]