we do not share.Moranzone
There is one secret which ye shall not share;
Bid him go hence.
Guido [to Ascanio]
Come back within the hour.
He does not know that nothing in this world
Can dim the perfect mirror of our love.
Within the hour come.
Ascanio
Speak not to him,
There is a dreadful terror in his look.
Guido [laughing]
Nay, nay, I doubt not that he has come to tell
That I am some great Lord of Italy,
And we will have long days of joy together.
Within the hour, dear Ascanio.
[Exit Ascanio.]
Now tell me of my father? [Sits down on a stone seat.]
Stood he tall?
I warrant he looked tall upon his horse.
His hair was black? or perhaps a reddish gold,
Like a red fire of gold? Was his voice low?
The very bravest men have voices sometimes
Full of low music; or a clarion was it
That brake with terror all his enemies?
Did he ride singly? or with many squires
And valiant gentlemen to serve his state?
For oftentimes methinks I feel my veins
Beat with the blood of kings. Was he a king?
Moranzone
Ay, of all men he was the kingliest.
Guido [proudly]
Then when you saw my noble father last
He was set high above the heads of men?
Moranzone
Ay, he was high above the heads of men,
[Walks over to Guido and puts his hand upon his shoulder.]
On a red scaffold, with a butcher’s block
Set for his neck.
Guido [leaping up]
What dreadful man art thou,
That like a raven, or the midnight owl,
Com’st with this awful message from the grave?
Moranzone
I am known here as the Count Moranzone,
Lord of a barren castle on a rock,
With a few acres of unkindly land
And six not thrifty servants. But I was one
Of Parma’s noblest princes; more than that,
I was your father’s friend.
Guido [clasping his hand]
Tell me of him.
Moranzone
You are the son of that great Duke Lorenzo,
He was the Prince of Parma, and the Duke
Of all the fair domains of Lombardy
Down to the gates of Florence; nay, Florence even
Was wont to pay him tribute —
Guido
Come to his death.
Moranzone
You will hear that soon enough. Being at war —
O noble lion of war, that would not suffer
Injustice done in Italy! – he led
The very flower of chivalry against
That foul adulterous Lord of Rimini,
Giovanni Malatesta – whom God curse!
And was by him in treacherous ambush taken,
And like a villain, or a low-born knave,
Was by him on the public scaffold murdered.
Guido [clutching his dagger]
Doth Malatesta live?
Moranzone
No, he is dead.
Guido
Did you say dead? O too swift runner, Death,
Couldst thou not wait for me a little space,
And I had done thy bidding!
Moranzone [clutching his wrist]
Thou canst do it!
The man who sold thy father is alive.
Guido
Sold! was my father sold?
Moranzone
Ay! trafficked for,
Like a vile chattel, for a price betrayed,
Bartered and bargained for in privy market
By one whom he had held his perfect friend,
One he had trusted, one he had well loved,
One whom by ties of kindness he had bound —
Guido
And he lives
Who sold my father?
Moranzone
I will bring you to him.
Guido
So, Judas, thou art living! well, I will make
This world thy field of blood, so buy it straight-way,
For thou must hang there.
Moranzone
Judas said you, boy?
Yes, Judas in his treachery, but still
He was more wise than Judas was, and held
Those thirty silver pieces not enough.
Guido
What got he for my father’s blood?
Moranzone
What got he?
Why cities, fiefs, and principalities,
Vineyards, and lands.
Guido
Of which he shall but keep
Six feet of ground to rot in. Where is he,
This damned villain, this foul devil? where?
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