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Title: The Falcon
Author: Alfred Lord Tennyson [
More Titles by Tennyson]
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
The Count Federigo Degli Alberighi.
Filippo, _Count's foster-brother_.
The lady Giovanna.
Elisabetta, _the Count's nurse_.
THE FALCON
SCENE.--_An Italian Cottage. Castle and Mountains seen through
Window_.
Elisabetta discovered seated on stool in window darning. The Count
with Falcon on his hand comes down through the door at back. A
withered wreath on the wall.
ELISABETTA.
So, my lord, the Lady Giovanna, who hath been away so long, came back
last night with her son to the castle.
COUNT.
Hear that, my bird! Art thou not jealous of her?
My princess of the cloud, my plumed purveyor,
My far-eyed queen of the winds--thou that canst soar
Beyond the morning lark, and howsoe'er
Thy quarry wind and wheel, swoop down upon him
Eagle-like, lightning-like--strike, make his feathers
Glance in mid heaven. [_Crosses to chair_.
I would thou hadst a mate!
Thy breed will die with thee, and mine with me:
I am as lone and loveless as thyself. [_Sits in chair_.
Giovanna here! Ay, ruffle thyself--_be_ jealous!
Thou should'st be jealous of her. Tho' I bred thee
The full-train'd marvel of all falconry,
And love thee and thou me, yet if Giovanna
Be here again--No, no! Buss me, my bird!
The stately widow has no heart for me.
Thou art the last friend left me upon earth--
No, no again to that. [_Rises and turns_.
My good old nurse,
I had forgotten thou wast sitting there.
ELISABETTA.
Ay, and forgotten thy foster-brother too.
COUNT.
Bird-babble for my falcon! Let it pass.
What art thou doing there?
ELISABETTA.
Darning your lordship.
We cannot flaunt it in new feathers now:
Nay, if we _will_ buy diamond necklaces
To please our lady, we must darn, my lord.
This old thing here (_points to necklace round her neck_),
they are but blue beads--my Piero,
God rest his honest soul, he bought 'em for me,
Ay, but he knew I meant to marry him.
How couldst thou do it, my son? How couldst thou do it?
COUNT.
She saw it at a dance, upon a neck
Less lovely than her own, and long'd for it.
ELISABETTA.
She told thee as much?
COUNT.
No, no--a friend of hers.
ELISABETTA.
Shame on her that she took it at thy hands,
She rich enough to have bought it for herself!
COUNT.
She would have robb'd me then of a great pleasure.
ELISABETTA.
But hath she yet return'd thy love?
COUNT.
Not yet!
ELISABETTA.
She should return thy necklace then.
COUNT.
Ay, if
She knew the giver; but I bound the seller
To silence, and I left it privily
At Florence, in her palace.
ELISABETTA.
And sold thine own
To buy it for her. She not know? She knows
There's none such other----
COUNT.
Madman anywhere.
Speak freely, tho' to call a madman mad
Will hardly help to make him sane again.
_Enter_ FILIPPO.
FILIPPO.
Ah, the women, the women! Ah, Monna Giovanna, you here again! you that
have the face of an angel and the heart of a--that's too positive! You
that have a score of lovers and have not a heart for any of them--
that's positive-negative: you that have _not_ the head of a toad, and
_not_ a heart like the jewel in it--that's too negative; you that have
a cheek like a peach and a heart like the stone in it--that's positive
again--that's better!
ELISABETTA.
Sh--sh--Filippo!
FILIPPO (_turns half round_).
Here has our master been a-glorifying and a-velveting and a-silking
himself, and a-peacocking and a-spreading to catch her eye for a dozen
year, till he hasn't an eye left in his own tail to flourish among the
peahens, and all along o' you, Monna Giovanna, all along o' you!
ELISABETTA.
Sh--sh--Filippo! Can't you hear that you are saying behind his back
what you see you are saying afore his face?
COUNT.
Let him--he never spares me to my face!
FILIPPO.
No, my lord, I never spare your lordship to your lordship's face, nor
behind your lordship's back, nor to right, nor to left, nor to round
about and back to your lordship's face again, for I'm honest, your
lordship.
COUNT.
Come, come, Filippo, what is there in the larder?
[ELISABETTA _crosses to fireplace and puts on wood_.
FILIPPO.
Shelves and hooks, shelves and hooks, and when I see the shelves I am
like to hang myself on the hooks.
COUNT.
No bread?
FILIPPO.
Half a breakfast for a rat!
COUNT,
Milk?
FILIPPO.
Three laps for a cat!
COUNT.
Cheese?
FILIPPO.
A supper for twelve mites.
COUNT.
Eggs?
FILIPPO.
One, but addled.
COUNT.
No bird?
FILIPPO.
Half a tit and a hern's bill.
COUNT.
Let be thy jokes and thy jerks, man! Anything or nothing?
FILIPPO.
Well, my lord, if all-but-nothing be anything, and one plate of dried
prunes be all-but-nothing, then there is anything in your lordship's
larder at your lordship's service, if your lordship care to call for
it.
COUNT.
Good mother, happy was the prodigal son,
For he return'd to the rich father; I
But add my poverty to thine. And all
Thro' following of my fancy. Pray thee make
Thy slender meal out of those scraps and shreds
Filippo spoke of. As for him and me,
There sprouts a salad in the garden still.
(_To the Falcon_?) Why didst thou miss thy quarry yester-even?
To-day, my beauty, thou must dash us down
Our dinner from the skies. Away, Filippo!
[_Exit, followed by_ FILIPPO.
ELISABETTA.
I knew it would come to this. She has beggared him. I always knew it
would come to this! (_Goes up to table as if to resume darning, and
looks out of window_.) Why, as I live, there is Monna Giovanna coming
down the hill from the castle. Stops and stares at our cottage. Ay,
ay! stare at it: it's all you have left us. Shame upon you! She
beautiful! sleek as a miller's mouse! Meal enough, meat enough, well
fed; but beautiful--bah! Nay, see, why she turns down the path
through our little vineyard, and I sneezed three times this morning.
Coming to visit my lord, for the first time in her life too! Why,
bless the saints! I'll be bound to confess her love to him at last. I
forgive her, I forgive her! I knew it would come to this--I always
knew it must come to this! (_Going up to door during latter part of
speech and opens it_.) Come in, Madonna, come in. (_Retires to front
of table and curtseys as the_ LADY GIOVANNA _enters, then moves chair
towards the hearth_.) Nay, let me place this chair for your ladyship.
[LADY GIOVANNA _moves slowly down stage, then crosses
to chair, looking about her, bows as she sees the
Madonna over fireplace, then sits in chair_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Can I speak with the Count?
ELISABETTA.
Ay, my lady, but won't you speak with the old woman first, and tell
her all about it and make her happy? for I've been on my knees every
day for these half-dozen years in hope that the saints would send us
this blessed morning; and he always took you so kindly, he always took
the world so kindly. When he was a little one, and I put the bitters
on my breast to wean him, he made a wry mouth at it, but he took it so
kindly, and your ladyship has given him bitters enough in this world,
and he never made a wry mouth at you, he always took you so kindly--
which is more than I did, my lady, more than I did--and he so
handsome--and bless your sweet face, you look as beautiful this
morning as the very Madonna her own self--and better late than never--
but come when they will--then or now--it's all for the best, come when
they will--they are made by the blessed saints--these marriages.
[_Raises her hands_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Marriages? I shall never marry again!
ELISABETTA (_rises and turns_).
Shame on her then!
LADY GIOVANNA.
Where is the Count?
ELISABETTA.
Just gone
To fly his falcon.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Call him back and say
I come to breakfast with him.
ELISABETTA.
Holy mother!
To breakfast! Oh sweet saints! one plate of prunes!
Well, Madam, I will give your message to him.
[_Exit_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
His falcon, and I come to ask for his falcon,
The pleasure of his eyes--boast of his hand--
Pride of his heart--the solace of his hours--
His one companion here--nay, I have heard
That, thro' his late magnificence of living
And this last costly gift to mine own self,
[_Shows diamond necklace_.
He hath become so beggar'd, that his falcon
Ev'n wins his dinner for him in the field.
That must be talk, not truth, but truth or talk,
How can I ask for his falcon?
[_Rises and moves as she speaks_.
O my sick boy!
My daily fading Florio, it is thou
Hath set me this hard task, for when I say
What can I do--what can I get for thee?
He answers, 'Get the Count to give me his falcon,
And that will make me well.' Yet if I ask,
He loves me, and he knows I know he loves me!
Will he not pray me to return his love--
To marry him?--(_pause_)--I can never marry him.
His grandsire struck my grandsire in a brawl
At Florence, and my grandsire stabb'd him there.
The feud between our houses is the bar
I cannot cross; I dare not brave my brother,
Break with my kin. My brother hates him, scorns
The noblest-natured man alive, and I--
Who have that reverence for him that I scarce
Dare beg him to receive his diamonds back--
How can I, dare I, ask him for his falcon?
[_Puts diamonds in her casket_.
_Re-enter_ COUNT _and_ FILIPPO. COUNT _turns to_ FILIPPO.
COUNT.
Do what I said; I cannot do it myself.
FILIPPO.
Why then, my lord, we are pauper'd out and out.
COUNT.
Do what I said! [_Advances and bows low_.
Welcome to this poor cottage, my dear lady.
LADY GIOVANNA.
And welcome turns a cottage to a palace.
COUNT.
'Tis long since we have met!
LADY GIOVANNA.
To make amends
I come this day to break my fast with you.
COUNT.
I am much honour'd--yes-- [_Turns to_ FILIPPO.
Do what I told thee. Must I do it myself?
FlLIPPO.
I will, I will. (_Sighs_.) Poor fellow!
[_Exit_.
COUNT.
Lady, you bring your light into my cottage
Who never deign'd to shine into my palace.
My palace wanting you was but a cottage;
My cottage, while you grace it, is a palace.
LADY GIOVANNA.
In cottage or in palace, being still
Beyond your fortunes, you are still the king
Of courtesy and liberality.
COUNT.
I trust I still maintain my courtesy;
My liberality perforce is dead
Thro' lack of means of giving.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Yet I come
To ask a gift. [_Moves toward him a little_.
COUNT.
It will be hard, I fear,
To find one shock upon the field when all
The harvest has been carried.
LADY GIOVANNA.
But my boy--
(_Aside_.) No, no! not yet--I cannot!
COUNT.
Ay, how is he,
That bright inheritor of your eyes--your boy?
LADY GIOVANNA.
Alas, my Lord Federigo, he hath fallen
Into a sickness, and it troubles me.
COUNT.
Sick! is it so? why, when he came last year
To see me hawking, he was well enough:
And then I taught him all our hawking-phrases.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Oh yes, and once you let him fly your falcon.
COUNT.
How charm'd he was! what wonder?--A gallant boy,
A noble bird, each perfect of the breed.
LADY GIOVANNA (_sinks in chair_).
What do you rate her at?
COUNT.
My bird? a hundred
Gold pieces once were offer'd by the Duke.
I had no heart to part with her for money.
LADY GIOVANNA.
No, not for money.
[COUNT _turns away and sighs_.
Wherefore do you sigh?
COUNT.
I have lost a friend of late.
LADY GIOVANNA.
I could sigh with you
For fear of losing more than friend, a son;
And if he leave me--all the rest of life--
That wither'd wreath were of more worth to me.
[_Looking at wreath on wall_.
COUNT.
That wither'd wreath is of more worth to me
Than all the blossom, all the leaf of this
New-wakening year. [_Goes and takes down wreath_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
And yet I never saw
The land so rich in blossom as this year.
COUNT (_holding wreath toward her_).
Was not the year when this was gather'd richer?
LADY GIOVANNA.
How long ago was that?
COUNT.
Alas, ten summers!
A lady that was beautiful as day
Sat by me at a rustic festival
With other beauties on a mountain meadow,
And she was the most beautiful of all;
Then but fifteen, and still as beautiful.
The mountain flowers grew thickly round about.
I made a wreath with some of these; I ask'd
A ribbon from her hair to bind it with;
I whisper'd, Let me crown you Queen of Beauty,
And softly placed the chaplet on her head.
A colour, which has colour'd all my life,
Flush'd in her face; then I was call'd away;
And presently all rose, and so departed.
Ah! she had thrown my chaplet on the grass,
And there I found it.
[_Lets his hands fall, holding wreath despondingly_.
LADY GIOVANNA (_after pause_).
How long since do you say?
COUNT.
That was the very year before you married.
LADY GIOVANNA.
When I was married you were at the wars.
COUNT.
Had she not thrown my chaplet on the grass,
It may be I had never seen the wars.
[_Replaces wreath whence he had taken it_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Ah, but, my lord, there ran a rumour then
That you were kill'd in battle. I can tell you
True tears that year were shed for you in Florence.
COUNT.
It might have been as well for me. Unhappily
I was but wounded by the enemy there
And then imprison'd.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Happily, however,
I see you quite recover'd of your wound.
COUNT.
No, no, not quite, Madonna, not yet, not yet.
_Re-enter_ FILIPPO.
FILIPPO.
My lord, a word with you.
COUNT.
Pray, pardon me!
[LADY GIOVANNA _crosses, and passes behind chair and
takes down wreath; then goes to chair by table_.
COUNT (_to_ FILIPPO).
What is it, Filippo?
FILIPPO.
Spoons, your lordship.
COUNT.
Spoons!
FILIPPO.
Yes, my lord, for wasn't my lady born with a golden spoon in her
ladyship's mouth, and we haven't never so much as a silver one for the
golden lips of her ladyship.
COUNT.
Have we not half a score of silver spoons?
FILIPPO.
Half o' one, my lord!
COUNT.
How half of one?
FILIPPO.
I trod upon him even now, my lord, in my hurry, and broke him.
COUNT.
And the other nine?
FILIPPO.
Sold! but shall I not mount with your lordship's leave to her
ladyship's castle, in your lordship's and her ladyship's name, and
confer with her ladyship's seneschal, and so descend again with some
of her ladyship's own appurtenances?
COUNT.
Why--no, man. Only see your cloth be clean.
[_Exit_ FILIPPO.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Ay, ay, this faded ribbon was the mode
In Florence ten years back. What's here? a scroll
Pinned to the wreath.
My lord, you have said so much
Of this poor wreath that I was bold enough
To take it down, if but to guess what flowers
Had made it; and I find a written scroll
That seems to run in rhymings. Might I read?
COUNT.
Ay, if you will.
LADY GIOVANNA.
It should be if you can.
(_Reads_.) 'Dead mountain.' Nay, for who could trace a hand
So wild and staggering?
COUNT.
This was penn'd, Madonna,
Close to the grating on a winter morn
In the perpetual twilight of a prison,
When he that made it, having his right hand
Lamed in the battle, wrote it with his left.
LADY GIOVANNA.
O heavens! the very letters seem to shake
With cold, with pain perhaps, poor prisoner! Well,
Tell me the words--or better--for I see
There goes a musical score along with them,
Repeat them to their music.
COUNT.
You can touch
No chord in me that would not answer you
In music.
LADY GIOVANNA.
That is musically said.
[COUNT _takes guitar_. LADY GIOVANNA _sits listening
with wreath in her hand, and quietly removes
scroll and places it on table at the end of the song_.
COUNT (_sings, playing guitar_).
'Dead mountain flowers, dead mountain-meadow flowers,
Dearer than when you made your mountain gay,
Sweeter than any violet of to-day,
Richer than all the wide world-wealth of May,
To me, tho' all your bloom has died away,
You bloom again, dead mountain-meadow flowers.'
_Enter_ ELISABETTA _with cloth_.
ELISABETTA.
A word with you, my lord!
COUNT (_singing_).
'O mountain flowers!'
ELISABETTA.
A word, my lord! (_Louder_).
COUNT (_sings_).
'Dead flowers!'
ELISABETTA.
A word, my lord! (_Louder_).
COUNT.
I pray you pardon me again!
[LADY GIOVANNA _looking at wreath_.
(COUNT _to_ ELISABETTA.)
What is it?
ELISABETTA.
My lord, we have but one piece of earthenware to
serve the salad in to my lady, and that cracked!
COUNT.
Why then, that flower'd bowl my ancestor
Fetch'd from the farthest east--we never use it
For fear of breakage--but this day has brought
A great occasion. You can take it, nurse!
ELISABETTA.
I did take it, my lord, but what with my lady's
coming that had so flurried me, and what with the
fear of breaking it, I did break it, my lord: it is
broken!
COUNT.
My one thing left of value in the world!
No matter! see your cloth be white as snow!
ELISABETTA (_pointing thro' window_).
White? I warrant thee, my son, as the snow yonder
on the very tip-top o' the mountain.
COUNT.
And yet to speak white truth, my good old mother,
I have seen it like the snow on the moraine.
ELISABETTA:
How can your lordship say so? There my lord!
[_Lays cloth_.
O my dear son, be not unkind to me.
And one word more. [_Going--returns_.
COUNT (_touching guitar_).
Good! let it be but one.
ELISABETTA.
Hath she return'd thy love?
COUNT.
Not yet!
ELISABETTA.
And will she?
COUNT (_looking at_ LADY GIOVANNA).
I scarce believe it!
ELISABETTA.
Shame upon her then! [_Exit_.
COUNT (_sings_).
'Dead mountain flowers'----
Ah well, my nurse has broken
The thread of my dead flowers, as she has broken
My china bowl. My memory is as dead.
[_Goes and replaces guitar_.
Strange that the words at home with me so long
Should fly like bosom friends when needed most.
So by your leave if you would hear the rest,
The writing.
LADY GIOVANNA (_holding wreath toward him_).
There! my lord, you are a poet,
And can you not imagine that the wreath,
Set, as you say, so lightly on her head,
Fell with her motion as she rose, and she,
A girl, a child, then but fifteen, however
Flutter'd or flatter'd by your notice of her,
Was yet too bashful to return for it?
COUNT.
Was it so indeed? was it so? was it so?
[_Leans forward to take wreath, and touches_ LADY
GIOVANNA'S _hand, which she withdraws hastily;
he places wreath on corner of chair_.
LADY GIOVANNA (_with dignity_).
I did not say, my lord, that it was so;
I said you might imagine it was so.
_Enter_ FILIPPO _with bowl of salad, which he places on table_.
FILIPPO.
Here's a fine salad for my lady, for tho' we have been a soldier, and
ridden by his lordship's side, and seen the red of the battle-field,
yet are we now drill-sergeant to his lordship's lettuces, and profess
to be great in green things and in garden-stuff.
LADY GIOVANNA.
I thank thee, good Filippo. [_Exit_ FILIPPO.
_Enter_ ELISABETTA _with bird on a dish which she places on
table_.
ELISABETTA (close to table).
Here's a fine fowl for my lady; I had scant time to do him in. I hope
he be not underdone, for we be undone in the doing of him.
LADY GIOVANNA.
I thank you, my good nurse.
FILIPPO (_re-entering with plate of prunes_).
And here are fine fruits for my lady--prunes, my lady, from the tree
that my lord himself planted here in the blossom of his boyhood--and
so I, Filippo, being, with your ladyship's pardon, and as your
ladyship knows, his lordship's own foster-brother, would commend them
to your ladyship's most peculiar appreciation.
[_Puts plate on table_.
ELISABETTA.
Filippo!
LADY GIOVANNA (COUNT _leads her to table_).
Will you not eat with me, my lord?
COUNT.
I cannot,
Not a morsel, not one morsel. I have broken
My fast already. I will pledge you. Wine!
Filippo, wine!
[_Sits near table_; FILIPPO _brings flask, fills
the_ COUNT'S _goblet, then_ LADY GIOVANNA'S;
ELISABETTA _stands at the back of_ LADY
GIOVANNA'S _chair_.
COUNT.
It is but thin and cold,
Not like the vintage blowing round your castle.
We lie too deep down in the shadow here.
Your ladyship lives higher in the sun.
[_They pledge each other and drink_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
If I might send you down a flask or two
Of that same vintage? There is iron in it.
It has been much commended as a medicine.
I give it my sick son, and if you be
Not quite recover'd of your wound, the wine
Might help you. None has ever told me yet
The story of your battle and your wound.
FILIPPO (_coming forward_).
I can tell you, my lady, I can tell you.
ELISABETTA.
Filippo! will you take the word out of your master's own mouth?
FILIPPO.
Was it there to take? Put it there, my lord.
COUNT.
Giovanna, my dear lady, in this same battle
We had been beaten--they were ten to one.
The trumpets of the fight had echo'd down,
I and Filippo here had done our best,
And, having passed unwounded from the field,
Were seated sadly at a fountain side,
Our horses grazing by us, when a troop,
Laden with booty and with a flag of ours
Ta'en in the fight----
FILIPPO.
Ay, but we fought for it back,
And kill'd----
ELISABETTA.
Filippo!
COUNT.
A troop of horse----
FILIPPO.
Five hundred!
COUNT.
Say fifty!
FILIPPO.
And we kill'd 'em by the score!
ELISABETTA.
Filippo!
FILIPPO.
Well, well, well! I bite my tongue.
COUNT.
We may have left their fifty less by five.
However, staying not to count how many,
But anger'd at their flaunting of our flag,
We mounted, and we dash'd into the heart of 'em.
I wore the lady's chaplet round my neck;
It served me for a blessed rosary.
I am sure that more than one brave fellow owed
His death to the charm in it.
ELISABETTA.
Hear that, my lady!
COUNT.
I cannot tell how long we strove before
Our horses fell beneath us; down we went
Crush'd, hack'd at, trampled underfoot. The night,
As some cold-manner'd friend may strangely do us
The truest service, had a touch of frost
That help'd to check the flowing of the blood.
My last sight ere I swoon'd was one sweet face
Crown'd with the wreath. _That_ seem'd to come and go.
They left us there for dead!
ELISABETTA.
Hear that, my lady!
FILIPPO.
Ay, and I left two fingers there for dead. See, my lady!
(_Showing his hand_.)
LADY GIOVANNA.
I see, Filippo!
FILIPPO.
And I have small hope of the gentleman gout in my great toe.
LADY GIOVANNA.
And why, Filippo? [_Smiling absently_.
FILIPPO.
I left him there for dead too!
ELISABETTA.
She smiles at him--how hard the woman is!
My lady, if your ladyship were not
Too proud to look upon the garland, you
Would find it stain'd----
COUNT (_rising_).
Silence, Elisabetta!
ELISABETTA.
Stain'd with the blood of the best heart that ever
Beat for one woman. [_Points to wreath on chair_.
LADY GIOVANNA (_rising slowly_).
I can eat no more!
COUNT.
You have but trifled with our homely salad,
But dallied with a single lettuce-leaf;
Not eaten anything.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Nay, nay, I cannot.
You know, my lord, I told you I was troubled.
My one child Florio lying still so sick,
I bound myself, and by a solemn vow,
That I would touch no flesh till he were well
Here, or else well in Heaven, where all is well.
[ELISABETTA _clears table of bird and salad_; FILIPPO _snatches
up the plate of prunes and holds them to_ LADY GIOVANNA.
FILIPPO.
But the prunes, my lady, from the tree that his lordship----
LADY GIOVANNA.
Not now, Filippo. My lord Federigo,
Can I not speak with you once more alone?
COUNT.
You hear, Filippo? My good fellow, go!
FILIPPO.
But the prunes that your lordship----
ELISABETTA.
Filippo!
COUNT.
Ay, prune our company of thine own and go!
ELISABETTA.
Filippo!
FILIPPO (_turning_).
Well, well! the women!
[Exit.
COUNT.
And thou too leave us, my dear nurse, alone.
ELISABETTA (_folding up cloth and going_).
And me too! Ay, the dear nurse will leave you alone;
but, for all that, she that has eaten the yolk is scarce
like to swallow the shell.
[_Turns and curtseys stiffly to_ LADY GIOVANNA, _then
exit_. LADY GIOVANNA _takes out diamond necklace from casket_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
I have anger'd your good nurse; these old-world servants
Are all but flesh and blood with those they serve.
My lord, I have a present to return you,
And afterwards a boon to crave of you.
COUNT.
No, my most honour'd and long-worshipt lady,
Poor Federigo degli Alberighi
Takes nothing in return from you except
Return of his affection--can deny
Nothing to you that you require of him.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Then I require you to take back your diamonds--
[_Offering necklace_.
I doubt not they are yours. No other heart
Of such magnificence in courtesy
Beats--out of heaven. They seem'd too rich a prize
To trust with any messenger. I came
In person to return them. [_Count draws back_.
If the phrase
'Return' displease you, we will say--exchange them
For your--for your----
COUNT (_takes a step toward her and then back_).
For mine--and what of mine?
LADY GIOVANNA.
Well, shall we say this wreath and your sweet rhymes?
COUNT.
But have you ever worn my diamonds?
LADY GIOVANNA.
No!
For that would seem accepting of your love.
I cannot brave my brother--but be sure
That I shall never marry again, my lord!
COUNT.
Sure?
LADY GIOVANNA.
Yes!
COUNT.
Is this your brother's order?
LADY GIOVANNA.
No!
For he would marry me to the richest man
In Florence; but I think you know the saying--
'Better a man without riches, than riches without a man.'
COUNT.
A noble saying--and acted on would yield
A nobler breed of men and women. Lady,
I find you a shrewd bargainer. The wreath
That once you wore outvalues twentyfold
The diamonds that you never deign'd to wear.
But lay them there for a moment!
[_Points to table_. LADY GIOVANNA _places necklace on table_.
And be you
Gracious enough to let me know the boon
By granting which, if aught be mine to grant,
I should be made more happy than I hoped
Ever to be again.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Then keep your wreath,
But you will find me a shrewd bargainer still.
I cannot keep your diamonds, for the gift
I ask for, to my mind and at this present
Outvalues all the jewels upon earth.
COUNT.
It should be love that thus outvalues all.
You speak like love, and yet you love me not.
I have nothing in this world but love for you.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Love? it _is_ love, love for my dying boy,
Moves me to ask it of you.
COUNT.
What? my time?
Is it my time? Well, I can give my time
To him that is a part of you, your son.
Shall I return to the castle with you? Shall I
Sit by him, read to him, tell him my tales,
Sing him my songs? You know that I can touch
The ghittern to some purpose.
LADY GIOVANNA.
No, not that!
I thank you heartily for that--and you,
I doubt not from your nobleness of nature,
Will pardon me for asking what I ask.
COUNT.
Giovanna, dear Giovanna, I that once
The wildest of the random youth of Florence
Before I saw you--all my nobleness
Of nature, as you deign to call it, draws
From you, and from my constancy to you.
No more, but speak.
LADY GIOVANNA.
I will. You know sick people,
More specially sick children, have strange fancies,
Strange longings; and to thwart them in their mood
May work them grievous harm at times, may even
Hasten their end. I would you had a son!
It might be easier then for you to make
Allowance for a mother--her--who comes
To rob you of your one delight on earth.
How often has my sick boy yearn'd for this!
I have put him off as often; but to-day
I dared not--so much weaker, so much worse
For last day's journey. I was weeping for him:
He gave me his hand: 'I should be well again
If the good Count would give me----
COUNT.
Give me.
LADY GIOVANNA.
His falcon.
COUNT (_starts back_).
My falcon!
LADY GIOVANNA.
Yes, your falcon, Federigo!
COUNT.
Alas, I cannot!
LADY GIOVANNA.
Cannot? Even so!
I fear'd as much. O this unhappy world!
How shall I break it to him? how shall I tell him?
The boy may die: more blessed were the rags
Of some pale beggar-woman seeking alms
For her sick son, if he were like to live,
Than all my childless wealth, if mine must die.
I was to blame--the love you said you bore me--
My lord, we thank you for your entertainment,
[_With a stately curtsey_.
And so return--Heaven help him!--to our son.
[_Turns--_
COUNT (_rushes forward_).
Stay, stay, I am most unlucky, most unhappy.
You never had look'd in on me before,
And when you came and dipt your sovereign head
Thro' these low doors, you ask'd to eat with me.
I had but emptiness to set before you,
No not a draught of milk, no not an egg,
Nothing but my brave bird, my noble falcon,
My comrade of the house, and of the field.
She had to die for it--she died for you.
Perhaps I thought with those of old, the nobler
The victim was, the more acceptable
Might be the sacrifice. I fear you scarce
Will thank me for your entertainment now.
LADY GIOVANNA (_returning_).
I bear with him no longer.
COUNT.
No, Madonna!
And he will have to bear with it as he may.
LADY GIOVANNA.
I break with him for ever!
COUNT.
Yes, Giovanna,
But he will keep his love to you for ever!
LADY GIOVANNA.
You? you? not you! My brother! my hard brother!
O Federigo, Federigo, I love you!
Spite of ten thousand brothers, Federigo.
[_falls at his feet_.
COUNT (_impetuously_).
Why then the dying of my noble bird
Hath served me better than her living--then
[_Takes diamonds from table_.
These diamonds are both yours and mine--have won
Their value again--beyond all markets--there
I lay them for the first time round your neck.
[_Lays necklace round her neck_.
And then this chaplet--No more feuds, but peace,
Peace and conciliation! I will make
Your brother love me. See, I tear away
The leaves were darken'd by the battle--
[_Pulls leaves off and throws them down_.
--crown you
Again with the same crown my Queen of Beauty.
[_Places wreath on her head_.
Rise--I could almost think that the dead garland
Will break once more into the living blossom.
Nay, nay, I pray you rise.
[_Raises her with both hands_.
We two together
Will help to heal your son--your son and mine--
We shall do it--we shall do it. [_Embraces her_.
The purpose of my being is accomplish'd,
And I am happy!
LADY GIOVANNA.
And I too, Federigo.
[The end]
Byron Alfred Lord Tennyson's play: The Falcon
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