Ugolino/Act 3 Scene 2
< Ugolino
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 cherishAffection for the spoiler, who first stealsThe jewel reputation, and then spurnsDeridingly, the casket which contain'd it!Happy Olympia! thou may'st hang and weepO'er the cold corse of thy belov'd Serassi,And pitying cherubs mingle tears with thine;But ev'ry hot and bitter drop I shedIs sinful, since it falls for one, whose handsAre red with innocent blood. O, I had hop'dBy guiltless artifice to clear his soulFrom 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 feelsThe faithless plank elude his eager grasp,Which promised succor from the jaws of death,I sink despairingly! he comes, his sightIs like a dagger to my heart, I'll shun him.[Exit into an inner apartment, l. flatEnter 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 maskAnd domino belonging to the Marquis,Have been arrested.—No suspicion lightsAs yet on me, tho' I did fear Olympia,Well knowing my deep wrongs, might have stirr'd upSome rumor to my harm—hum! let me think,Tho' thro' Serassi, I have stabb'd the peaceOf the false Syren,—something yet remainsTo make my vengeance equal to its cause.Her honor! that fair tablet which as yetKnows not a stain or blot—pure as the snowUpon Olympus' top, or the bright dropsWhich 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 precedenceAbove 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 blurHer maiden purity; but make it seem,That she did set Orsino on to slaySerassi; this into the lion's mouth, Which gapes to catch the secret accusations,I'll drop as if by some mistake—The DogeWill 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 pointsMost 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 dependsOn 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 manAllow 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.