SCENE II.—A mean Apartment.
Enter Angelica, r.
Ange. A murderer! O, miserable man!
The measure of thy guilt is full, and thou,
Wretched Angelica, must love him still.
O, 'tis the curse of woman kind to cherish
Affection for the spoiler, who first steals
The jewel reputation, and then spurns
Deridingly, the casket which contain'd it!
Happy Olympia! thou may'st hang and weep
O'er the cold corse of thy belov'd Serassi,
And pitying cherubs mingle tears with thine;
But ev'ry hot and bitter drop I shed
Is sinful, since it falls for one, whose hands
Are red with innocent blood. O, I had hop'd
By guiltless artifice to clear his soul
From the dark passions which like ivy cling,
Till they have ruin'd what they twine around,
That hope has fled—the day star of my life!
And like the exhausted mariner, who feels
The faithless plank elude his eager grasp,
Which promised succor from the jaws of death,
I sink despairingly! he comes, his sight
Is like a dagger to my heart, I'll shun him.
[Exit into an inner apartment, l. flat
Enter Ugolino, r.
Count. The chase is up, Serassi's death has blaz'd,
Like wild-fire through Venice—Caliari,
And Count Orsino, who by some strange chance,
Were found in the possession of a mask
And domino belonging to the Marquis,
Have been arrested.—No suspicion lights
As yet on me, tho' I did fear Olympia,
Well knowing my deep wrongs, might have stirr'd up
Some rumor to my harm—hum! let me think,
Tho' thro' Serassi, I have stabb'd the peace
Of the false Syren,—something yet remains
To make my vengeance equal to its cause.
Her honor! that fair tablet which as yet
Knows not a stain or blot—pure as the snow
Upon Olympus' top, or the bright drops
Which form the radiance of heaven's airy bow,
To sully that 'twould be a master piece!
But how! how Ugolino! precious mischief!
Come pour into my soul, thy subtle spirit,
And prompt it to a deed, shall give thee precedence
Above the darkest of the fiends of hell.
I hav't, it shot like lightning thro' my brain.
A letter will I write in a feign'd hand,
As if from Count Orsino, to Olympia,
Full of dark hints, which shall not only blur
Her maiden purity; but make it seem,
That she did set Orsino on to slay
Serassi; this into the lion's mouth,
Which gapes to catch the secret accusations,
I'll drop as if by some mistake—The Doge
Will surely open it—'Twill work! 'twill work!
What, ho! there! Julio!
Re-enter Angelica, door in flat, l.
Ang. Your pleasure, sir?
Count. Come hither, boy—why, how the coward trembles,
Julio! Count Caliari, and that gad-fly—
The busy buzzing, would be-wit Orsino,
Have been arrested, and suspicion points
Most strongly to them. Stir not thou abroad,
There will be search made, doubtless, for the page,
Who can alone clear up this mystery.
Remember that thy master's life depends
On thy discretion.—Get me pen, and ink,
And paper ready, I must not be idle.
Ang. [Aside.] Orsino and his friend, must they, too, suffer?
And shall my misplaced love for this bad man
Allow their ruin?
Count. What dost mutter, there?
Did I not tell thee I would write?
Ang. Your pardon,
I'll get them ready, sir. [Exit Angelica, l. door flat.
Count. Now, to my task.
Olympia! thou hast pull'd my vengeance on thee,
And thou shalt find it crushes when it falls!
[Exit after Angelica, l. door flat.
Ange. A murderer! O, miserable man!
The measure of thy guilt is full, and thou,
Wretched Angelica, must love him still.
O, 'tis the curse of woman kind to cherish
Affection for the spoiler, who first steals
The jewel reputation, and then spurns
Deridingly, the casket which contain'd it!
Happy Olympia! thou may'st hang and weep
O'er the cold corse of thy belov'd Serassi,
And pitying cherubs mingle tears with thine;
But ev'ry hot and bitter drop I shed
Is sinful, since it falls for one, whose hands
Are red with innocent blood. O, I had hop'd
By guiltless artifice to clear his soul
From the dark passions which like ivy cling,
Till they have ruin'd what they twine around,
That hope has fled—the day star of my life!
And like the exhausted mariner, who feels
The faithless plank elude his eager grasp,
Which promised succor from the jaws of death,
I sink despairingly! he comes, his sight
Is like a dagger to my heart, I'll shun him.
[Exit into an inner apartment, l. flat
Enter Ugolino, r.
Count. The chase is up, Serassi's death has blaz'd,
Like wild-fire through Venice—Caliari,
And Count Orsino, who by some strange chance,
Were found in the possession of a mask
And domino belonging to the Marquis,
Have been arrested.—No suspicion lights
As yet on me, tho' I did fear Olympia,
Well knowing my deep wrongs, might have stirr'd up
Some rumor to my harm—hum! let me think,
Tho' thro' Serassi, I have stabb'd the peace
Of the false Syren,—something yet remains
To make my vengeance equal to its cause.
Her honor! that fair tablet which as yet
Knows not a stain or blot—pure as the snow
Upon Olympus' top, or the bright drops
Which form the radiance of heaven's airy bow,
To sully that 'twould be a master piece!
But how! how Ugolino! precious mischief!
Come pour into my soul, thy subtle spirit,
And prompt it to a deed, shall give thee precedence
Above the darkest of the fiends of hell.
I hav't, it shot like lightning thro' my brain.
A letter will I write in a feign'd hand,
As if from Count Orsino, to Olympia,
Full of dark hints, which shall not only blur
Her maiden purity; but make it seem,
That she did set Orsino on to slay
Serassi; this into the lion's mouth,
Which gapes to catch the secret accusations,
I'll drop as if by some mistake—The Doge
Will surely open it—'Twill work! 'twill work!
What, ho! there! Julio!
Re-enter Angelica, door in flat, l.
Ang. Your pleasure, sir?
Count. Come hither, boy—why, how the coward trembles,
Julio! Count Caliari, and that gad-fly—
The busy buzzing, would be-wit Orsino,
Have been arrested, and suspicion points
Most strongly to them. Stir not thou abroad,
There will be search made, doubtless, for the page,
Who can alone clear up this mystery.
Remember that thy master's life depends
On thy discretion.—Get me pen, and ink,
And paper ready, I must not be idle.
Ang. [Aside.] Orsino and his friend, must they, too, suffer?
And shall my misplaced love for this bad man
Allow their ruin?
Count. What dost mutter, there?
Did I not tell thee I would write?
Ang. Your pardon,
I'll get them ready, sir. [Exit Angelica, l. door flat.
Count. Now, to my task.
Olympia! thou hast pull'd my vengeance on thee,
And thou shalt find it crushes when it falls!
[Exit after Angelica, l. door flat.