Teresa Contarini/Act IV
ACT IV
[edit]SCENE I
[edit]A street.---Enter Contarini and Steno
Contarini
- Know you his name?
Steno
- Antonio Foscarini.
- The same whom you a short time since despatched
- On the embassy to Switzerland.
Contarini
- So soon
- Returned?
Steno
- Some private cause of haste, it seems,
- Hath brought him hither. But a few days past,
- I know, he was not here.
Contarini
- Well---trace him out,
- He's desperate---and should be removed. Mark you?
Steno
- Signor, 'Tis done.
Contarini
- Be wary---but be speedy.
[ Exit Steno. Enter Fiorilla.
- A lady! I must smooth this troubled brow,
- For such fair meeting.
Fiorilla
- Well---my lord---
Contarini
- Fiorilla!
Fiorilla
- Am I so changed, that you scarce know me, sir?
- Then doth my mirror flatter, for it tells me
- Of features yet unaltered; and in truth
- They might be---for short space of time hath passed
- Since we last met.
Contarini
- They are all radiant still
- With beauty---and would be, though years had striven
- To steal some charm away. But those few days
- Have wrought a change in me. I'm wedded---lady.
Fiorilla
- Wedded? Aye, I have heard the tale---but sooth,
- It dwelt not in my mind. These idle rumors,
- You know, my lord, even when they merit credence,
- So lightly pass us by---we scarce are wont
- To give them heed!
Contarini
- And yet I hoped once, lady,
- Fiorilla would not heedlessly have listened
- To aught that spoke of me!
Fiorilla
- Ha! ha!
Contarini
- My bride---
- You have not seen her! Oh! her gentle beauty
- Might rival yours!
Fiorilla
- Indeed!
Contarini
- The rose perchance
- Upon her cheek wears not a bloom so rich;
- Her brow may be less haughty---but 'Tis moulded
- In form as perfect.
Fiorilla
- Gallant cavalier!
- Why in seclusion veil such matchless charms?
Contarini
- She seeks it.
Fiorilla
- Undisturbed to muse, no doubt,
- On you, to greet you with a dearer welcome
- When you invade her solitude. Happy bridegroom!
- Whom no tormenting sprite of jealousy
- Can haunt! whose treasured flower will yield its sweets
- To him alone---none other!
Contarini
- She would jest;
- Yet plays a smile too mocking on her lips
- For courtesy!---Fiorilla---
Fiorilla
- Nay, my lord---
- I would not that your gracious words be wasted
- On one so worthless, when far dearer cares
- Await you at your home. Your lady, doubtless,
- Mourns for your absence; or---perchance I err,
- Invokes the aid of some more courteous knight
- To while away the hours.
Contarini
- Ha!
Fiorilla
- Only, signor,
- A substitute. When the proud sun withdraws
- His beams, we hail the star---less bright indeed,
- That cheers the gloom.---Methinks I saw but now
- Young Foscarini.---Ho! there.---
Enter Marco
- Farewell my lord---I'll not detain you longer---
[ Exit Contarini.
- Let him go ponder on my words. Hence, Marco,
- Seek Loredano, and entreat his presence
- Now, at my house.
[ Exit Marco.
- I will no longer pause
- But strike the blow, and win a swift revenge!
[ Exit.
SCENE II
[edit]An apartment in Contarini's palace.---Enter Teresa
Teresa
- Let him believe me false! Let him believe
- I spurned at truth---if such a thought can heal
- The bitter wound I planted in his breast!
- But mine---why---let it fester, and grow rank,
- And spread, and spread, till its consuming poison
- Hath eaten life out! Let him curse and hate me!
- Yet that were hard to bear! My misery, sure
- Might claim some pity! I would fain be thought on
- With grief, but not with scorn. I'd be remembered
- Like a dim, far off vision, wan and sad,
- Leaving a mournful yet a softened image,
- Mellowed by passing time to tenderer hues,
- To fade at length, like tremulous light, away!
Enter Stefano with a paper.
Stefano
- Lady---a cavalier without desired me
- To give you this.
Teresa (Takes the paper, looks at it,---then hurriedly averts her head)
- And bade you bring the answer?
Stefano
- He did.
Teresa
- To write to him! to speak with him!
- I must not;---will not! I have reared the barrier
- That aye must sever us, and will abide
- The die which duty cast.---Take it---Stefano---
- Tell him there is no answer.
[ Exit Stefano.
- Cruelty!
- Must we not probe deep, to dig out the venom?
- What matter if he deem me cold and proud?
- I must be so---to him!
Enter Matilda.
Matilda
- Hush! I have tidings.
- The unhappy Foscarini is without,
- And craves to see you.
Teresa
- Me!
Matilda
- For one short moment.
- Oh! had you seen him as he urged the boon---
- So suppliant, so desperate! his voice
- Tremulous with suffering.
Teresa
- Hold---Matilda---hold!
- He is already answered.
Matilda
- How?
Teresa
- You ask?
Matilda
- Oh, do not be so stern! what wrong can chance
- Or harm, if you will grant this poor request?
- But just to bid farewell, he says;---and then
- He'll fly from you for ever, into lands
- Where Venice is unheard of.
Teresa
- Urge no more!
- I will not see him. Let him go---and bury
- All thoughts of me for ever!
Matilda
- He'll not go;
- He will besiege you with his fruitless prayers,
- Though you are deaf to them.---Think of his danger.
Teresa
- What?
Matilda
- His life is sought by secret enemies.
- This is too certain; I myself have heard
- Dark-boding threats from Contarini's lips,
- Uttered when he thought none beheld. You know
- His cold blood-thirsty hate!
Teresa
- Oh, yes---too well!
- Hasten Matilda! warn him---bid him 'scape
- While there is time.
Matilda
- Alas! he will not heed
- Warning, except from you.
Teresa
- What must I do?
Matilda
- Speak to him---bid him leave this fatal place.
- He will obey you. Pause not! your delay
- May seal his fate.
Teresa
- No---no---say I command,
- Command him to be gone! by all that's past---(bitterly)
- The past! what curse is in that word! what claim
- Have I to his obedience?
Matilda
- Dear Teresa,
- Weigh not a fancied duty 'gainst his life;
- Think---should he fall beneath their eager swords---
- And you the cause?
Teresa
- Oh heaven! Away---and tell him
- I come.---I do no wrong---to save the innocent!
- Lead the way---quick---but softly.
[ Exeunt.
SCENE III
[edit]A Garden, near the palace of Contarini. On one side the palace of the Spanish ambassador
Enter Foscarini.
Foscarini
- She would repel me! but I'll see her once
- Before we part for ever: claim her pardon.
- How could I deem her worthless! Oh, what wild
- Playthings of fortune we---who if the cup
- We drink hath aught of bitter---dash it down---
- And madly spurn the sweetness in the dregs!
- We tear the wound---and hate the balm that heals it!
Enter Teresa.
- Teresa!
Teresa
- Signor---
Foscarini
- So cold! then all I feared is true:
- You love me not!
Teresa
- Hush---busy torturer!
- Should I be here, else?
Foscarini (bitterly)
- Such was not your welcome
- When last we met!
Teresa
- And is all else unchanged?
- Look in my face, and read what I have borne
- Since then.
Foscarini
- Alas! so wasted and so wan---
- Yet never half so lovely!
Teresa
- Why---that's well---
- If burning sorrow could dry up life's springs---
- But they flow on---though every fount is sealed
- That could renew them. Strange---that life should cling
- But closer as we strive to shake it off!
- And mock its tenement, though that be worn
- Too thin to harbor it!
Foscarini
- Nay---you talk wildly.
Teresa
- Oh, there has been a weary fever here,
- That scorched---and scorched---as it would sear my brain,
- 'Till that grew wayward. All things seemed a vision,
- 'Measureless, shadowy---strange---yet dim and fleeting'---
- But I'm awake now!
Foscarini
- Awake to keener grief,
- I would not add to it!
Teresa
- You pity me!
- You have forgiven me! All my fault and wrong,
- And suffering---you know!
Foscarini
- All---but too well.
- I know you guiltless.
Teresa
- No---you know not half
- The wild, bad thoughts I've cherished.---Foscarini,
- I've wished thee dead! I've looked upon the sky
- When the fierce tempest blackened it---and hoped---
- And hoped its wings would sweep thee to destruction!
- Invoked the hoary mountain rocks to crush thee!
- Prayed, as I ne'er before have prayed for weal
- Of thine or mine---for death---ere thou shouldst come
- To find me thus.---Why art thou here?
Foscarini
- I come
- To look on you once more; to hear your voice
- Even in these groves---where we were wont to meet
- In happy hours------
Teresa
- Speak not, speak not of them!
- They're angels, whose accusing voice to heaven
- Doth tell of broken faith, and trampled hopes,
- And injured goodness! They have baneful influence,---
- They made me what I am!
Foscarini
- Mine own Teresa!
- Let me so call you now---blame not yourself
- For what hath severed us. I blame you not.
- Heaven doth attest my truth, I hold you now,
- As pure, as guiltless of all wrong---as when
- I first believed you.
Teresa
- Oh! thou wilt not hate me!
- I bless thee for it! That fear has wrought so oft
- My thoughts to bitterness! It was a phantom
- That haunted me, and mocked my tears! No---no!
- Thy pity, like the angel of Heaven's mercy,
- Will smile---and smile---and soothe me as I pass
- Down to the cold and welcome grave---and then---
- When I am dead---thou'lt think on me---weep for me---
- Wilt thou not, Foscarini?
Foscarini
- Listen to me!
- The victim hath no duties. That forced vow
- Which came not from the heart, and bears no sanction
- Of the consenting will, Heaven did not register.
Teresa
- What mean you?
Foscarini
- You are mine! Good spirits have heard
- Our vows, and sealed those bonds, which mortal hands
- Can never loose. Far from this hated land
- Shine skies as bright---and fields as verdant bloom
- To bless the fond and true. Escape with me.
- The ship is waiting---let it bear us far
- To some propitious clime, where no regrets
- Or misery shall pursue us.
Teresa
- Ha! a fitting
- Companion to your flight! a fugitive wife!
- Whose wife? 'Tis well---peace I have lost---and you
- Would take all that remains!
Foscarini
- Forgive---forgive me!
- 'Twas but a thought of madness. It is past.
- I'll not offend again. Now shall you know
- What he can dare, who loses you!
Teresa
- What frenzy
- Gleams in your eye! No---Foscarini---no!
- You could not do so wild, so fierce a wrong,
- Because the blossom of young life is blighted,
- To pluck its stem of verdure from the root!
- Live---for my sake! Hence from this wretched city,
- Where you are watched, and sought for, as the bloodhound
- Doth seek his prey! Go---go! we may not meet
- On earth again.
Foscarini
- So wretched------'
Teresa
- 'Happier far
- Than I, since you in liberty may weep;
- While I in secret, chided, must pour forth
- The bitter drops that burn where'er they fall.
- Remain not here'---we part------
Enter Matilda, hastily.
Matilda
- Begone---with speed!
- You're traced, and to this spot. Your husband comes
- With men and torches to arrest him. Hence!
[ to Foscarini.
- Not that way! There they throng the path! This side!
- You may escape them there!
[ points in the direction of the Spanish palace.
Teresa (withholding him)
- No! no! not there!
Matilda
- It is the only way.
Teresa
- The Spaniard dwells there!
- 'Tis death to enter these forbidden walls!
- Is it not so decreed?
Foscarini
- 'Tis infamy
- To you, if I remain!
Teresa
- You shall not go.
- What is a name to me? Stay---I'll reveal
- All---all to Contarini; I will plead
- Even at his feet! He'll hear me, and will save you!
Foscarini
- You know him not; he'd spurn you, and his slaves
- Would scoff at you. No---no---I choose my death,
- Rather than your disgrace!
Teresa (clinging to him)
- Break not my hold!
- I caused thy danger---I alone! I'll shield thee
- With my entwining arms. They shall not strike---
- Or if they do---mine---mine---shall be the death!
Foscarini
- Love! love! my fate
- Preserves me for embrace so blest as this,
- Only when I must break from it! Oh! death
- Would have such sweetness thus!
[ footsteps heard.
- Hence---let me go!
- They'll not arrest me. I will never fall,
- Trust me, by hands ignoble, while this weapon
- Can serve me truly!
[ breaks from her, and exit. Enter Contarini and Steno, with servants bearing torches.
Contarini
- Ha! the traitor fled!
- But one way's open. Steno---haste---withdraw
- Your trusty men, and search within the walls
- Of yonder palace. He is proved a traitor.
[ Exeunt Steno and servants.
- He's in my toils---and you---so fair and false------
(Tumult---the report of a pistol heard)
Teresa
- Lost! lost!
(Re-enter Steno and servants, dragging in Foscarini , who is wounded. The curtain falls)