10
UGOLINO.
Ang. Oh, my lord, I dare not!
Count. Fool that I was to build upon thy love—
Out—but my sword! thou art my only friend.
Here will I wait his coming, 'midst the swarm
Of silken fools that buz around his steps,
This blade shall seek his heart, and from its core
Pluck forth—Revenge! thy purple sacrifice. [Crosses to l.
Ang. [aside.] Ha! this must be prevented—I perforce,
Must seem to yield consent [aloud.] O, think my lord,
If here you should attack him midst his friends,
How many ready swords may fence him round,
And mar your purpose—Dreadful though it be
Your will shall be obey'd—Serassi's life
I hold but as a rush, when weigh'd against your safety.
Put up your sword, my lord—
Count. If thou deceive me—
Ang. Then let your fury also light on me.
Count. It shall, by every wrong that goads my soul!
Therefore be warn’d, boy—sport not with my rage,
Think of it, as a serpent coild about thee,
Shrink but in thought, it stings to death. [Exit Count, l.
Ang. What's to be done? unhappy that I am!
I have but laid my woman's garb aside.
A woman's heart still beats within my breast.
O, Ugolino! deeply as thou'st wrong'd me,
And fervently as I have pray'd for vengeance,
Now that my slightest breath had power to crush thee,
Love—Which thy cruelty had banish'd hence,
Comes rushing back and melts my hate to pity—
Think of thy rage as of a serpent round me!
Alas! the worst of serpents was thy love.
I knew not, I but saw,
Its beauteous hues, and playful undulations,
I felt it twine around my heart,
Nor dream'd of mischief till it fled and left,
The deadly poison of its sting within it—
The thought hath roused me faithless Ugolino!
Yes, thou shalt feel an injured woman's vengeance;
But it is not blood I thirst for—no—my aim
Is but to kill the vices which deface thee.
Serassi must be saved—but how? I'll lead him
To the Rialto's foot—a letter dropp'd
In old Monteno's path, shall breed suspicion,
And bring his servants to the spot. Occasion
Must prompt my further steps. Some one approaches.
'Tis he, I'll note his dress,—aye, as I guessed,
Friends with him. [Stands aside, r.
Count. Fool that I was to build upon thy love—
Out—but my sword! thou art my only friend.
Here will I wait his coming, 'midst the swarm
Of silken fools that buz around his steps,
This blade shall seek his heart, and from its core
Pluck forth—Revenge! thy purple sacrifice. [Crosses to l.
Ang. [aside.] Ha! this must be prevented—I perforce,
Must seem to yield consent [aloud.] O, think my lord,
If here you should attack him midst his friends,
How many ready swords may fence him round,
And mar your purpose—Dreadful though it be
Your will shall be obey'd—Serassi's life
I hold but as a rush, when weigh'd against your safety.
Put up your sword, my lord—
Count. If thou deceive me—
Ang. Then let your fury also light on me.
Count. It shall, by every wrong that goads my soul!
Therefore be warn’d, boy—sport not with my rage,
Think of it, as a serpent coild about thee,
Shrink but in thought, it stings to death. [Exit Count, l.
Ang. What's to be done? unhappy that I am!
I have but laid my woman's garb aside.
A woman's heart still beats within my breast.
O, Ugolino! deeply as thou'st wrong'd me,
And fervently as I have pray'd for vengeance,
Now that my slightest breath had power to crush thee,
Love—Which thy cruelty had banish'd hence,
Comes rushing back and melts my hate to pity—
Think of thy rage as of a serpent round me!
Alas! the worst of serpents was thy love.
I knew not, I but saw,
Its beauteous hues, and playful undulations,
I felt it twine around my heart,
Nor dream'd of mischief till it fled and left,
The deadly poison of its sting within it—
The thought hath roused me faithless Ugolino!
Yes, thou shalt feel an injured woman's vengeance;
But it is not blood I thirst for—no—my aim
Is but to kill the vices which deface thee.
Serassi must be saved—but how? I'll lead him
To the Rialto's foot—a letter dropp'd
In old Monteno's path, shall breed suspicion,
And bring his servants to the spot. Occasion
Must prompt my further steps. Some one approaches.
'Tis he, I'll note his dress,—aye, as I guessed,
Friends with him. [Stands aside, r.
Enter Serassi, Caliari, and Orsino, with dominoes and masks, l.
Orsi. Not I, faith—I have no taste for masking,
So, here I leave you,—Signors, both good even. [Going l.
Orsi. Not I, faith—I have no taste for masking,
So, here I leave you,—Signors, both good even. [Going l.
