The Life of Oscar Wilde. Frank Harris

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style="font-size:15px;">       Madam, I tell you you will never see him,

       Neither tonight, nor any other night.

      DUCHESS

       What is your name?

      MORANZONE

       My name? Revenge!

       [Exit.]

      DUCHESS

       Revenge!

       I think I never harmed a little child.

       What should Revenge do coming to my door?

       It matters not, for Death is there already,

       Waiting with his dim torch to light my way.

       ‘Tis true men hate thee, Death, and yet I think

       Thou wilt be kinder to me than my lover,

       And so dispatch the messengers at once,

       Harry the lazy steeds of lingering day,

       And let the night, thy sister, come instead,

       And drape the world in mourning; let the owl,

       Who is thy minister, scream from his tower

       And wake the toad with hooting, and the bat,

       That is the slave of dim Persephone,

       Wheel through the sombre air on wandering wing!

       Tear up the shrieking mandrakes from the earth

       And bid them make us music, and tell the mole

       To dig deep down thy cold and narrow bed,

       For I shall lie within thine arms tonight.

      END OF ACT II.

      ACT III

       Table of Contents

      SCENE

      A large corridor in the Ducal Palace: a window (L.C.) looks out on a view of Padua by moonlight: a staircase (R.C.) leads up to a door with a portière of crimson velvet, with the Duke’s arms embroidered in gold on it: on the lowest step of the staircase a figure draped in black is sitting: the hall is lit by an iron cresset filled with burning tow: thunder and lightning outside: the time is night.

      [Enter GUIDO through the window.]

      GUIDO

       The wind is rising: how my ladder shook!

       I thought that every gust would break the cords!

       [Looks out at the city.]

       Christ! What a night:

       Great thunder in the heavens, and wild lightnings

       Striking from pinnacle to pinnacle

       Across the city, till the dim houses seem

       To shudder and to shake as each new glare

       Dashes adown the street.

       [Passes across the stage to foot of staircase.]

       Ah! who art thou

       That sittest on the stair, like unto Death

       Waiting a guilty soul? [A pause.]

       Canst thou not speak?

       Or has this storm laid palsy on thy tongue,

       And chilled thy utterance?

       [The figure rises and takes off his mask.]

      MORANZONE

       Guido Ferranti,

       Thy murdered father laughs for joy tonight.

      GUIDO

       [confusedly]

       What, art thou here?

      MORANZONE

       Ay, waiting for your coming.

      GUIDO

       [looking away from him]

       I did not think to see you, but am glad,

       That you may know the thing I mean to do.

      MORANZONE

       First, I would have you know my well-laid plans;

       Listen: I have set horses at the gate

       Which leads to Parma: when you have done your business

       We will ride hence, and by tomorrow night -

      GUIDO

       It cannot be.

      MORANZONE

       Nay, but it shall.

      GUIDO

       Listen, Lord Moranzone,

       I am resolved not to kill this man.

      MORANZONE

       Surely my ears are traitors, speak again:

       It cannot be but age has dulled my powers,

       I am an old man now: what did you say?

       You said that with that dagger in your belt

       You would avenge your father’s bloody murder;

       Did you not say that?

      GUIDO

       No, my lord, I said

       I was resolved not to kill the Duke.

      MORANZONE

       You said not that; it is my senses mock me;

       Or else this midnight air o’ercharged with storm

       Alters your message in the giving it.

      GUIDO

       Nay, you heard rightly; I’ll not kill this man.

      MORANZONE

       What of thine oath, thou traitor, what of thine oath?

      GUIDO

       I am resolved

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