and many a friendly house in Florence looks with favouring eyes on these matters.
1st citizen: ‘Tis hard indeed for my credulence to grant this strange news; my fancy revolts to figure these peaceful streets made a bloody battlefield.
2nd citizen: Amen! [to 3rd citizen] And in what manner has the Duke welcomed the news?
3rd citizen: ‘Tis not yet known. But he’s our only hope. Let’s pray that he will prevent this coming woe, that these foul rumours may seem the idle inventions of overwrought brains, with no more substance of truth than a dream. Exeunt
[Enter Oddo, Lambertuccio, and Rinieri]
Lamb. [to Oddo]:
Of thy new broil, which adds one more to the
Quick-swelling number of thy foolish deed
I’m well informed, and Florence echoes it;
What’s graver yet, that thou art minded
Of bitter strife and bloody commerce,
And wouldst not espouse fair Peace.
Oddo:
Fair Peace!
‘Twere fair indeed wedded to downcast-eyed
Disgrace! Thy words fall on my startled ear
Like sounds from some strange land; that, thou should’st know
Being of D’Ameidei’s blood, as I; but ‘tis not strange
To thee since they’re thy lips that are guilty.
Peace, how dearly bought, when purchased with
The coins of shame!
Rinieri:
Disgrace there’s naught; for it
Dwells not with valour, whose right arm thou art;
Rather ‘twill be made known that ‘tis but through
Disdain to strike and not through fear that thou
Returnest not Valentio’s blows with like [after a pause]
Though even if thou didst truly fear to rouse
His kin, whose name makes half of Florence
Tremble, thy valour’s sheen would not be dulled.
Lamb.:
Most wisely said; and yet, thou wrongest us
By doubt; were our cause just, naught could make us
Decline the field though all the powers of Hell
Were to oppose us. But with Valentio
Doth justice abide, and to him Justice
Shall be administered. Then is not Peace
The least we can offer?
Oddo:
Name not again
That hateful word which falls like to the screech
Of night’s foul bird on my enraged ear,
And makes my blood seethe in my throbbing veins.
Lamb.:
Thou speakest not words by sober reason tamed;
O wilt then have Florence aflame with war?
(Thou canst not be ignorant how it unloosens
The chained might of Evil, marring
The beauty of the world with blood and fire,
Making of it a Hell, where it should be
A human Paradise) and shall we fight
Betwixt ourselves and let the envious foes
Of happy Florence be merry at her woe?
This incident is of light consequence:
Leave it to time, ‘twill heal both wounds alike.
Oddo:
Bid me forget all things dear to my heart,
And all the joys of life, yea life itself,
And lie in a cold tomb and rot; but not
That bold outrage that left the eloquent mark
Of its mockery on my revolting frame
An everlasting stain, exposed to scorn,
Traced by pointing fingers, which when point not
Eyes cry: “Behold the white-cheeked coward”!
Rinieri [aside, reflecting on Oddo’s last words]
Poor Honour, how I pity thee, since thou
Hast naught save wavering opinion
To nourish thee, and thou art swayed by the
Caprice of mere men, and by every blast
Of various thought; aye, thou art miserable!
I would not have thee in my company. [to Lamb. and Oddo]
Let’s to the Duke, since you’re at variance;
Whose sound and noble mind hath earned him fame
Like Israel’s old sceptered sage; for their Justice
His mild domain unfurls.
Oddo [aside]:
To that old fool! [in a loud voice]
Aye, to demand justice, denied me here,
But if I find it not, I’ll seek it elsewhere. Exeunt. [Oddo stays behind, muttering between his teeth]:
Thou shalt escape me not, for all their words. [Exit Oddo]
[Enter Duke of Florence, attended by his retinue, Flourish.]
Duke [aside]:
O most unhappy Florence; how soon the somber
Shadows of dire destruction threaten
To fall again on thy life’s sunny way
And bleach the rosy cheeks with pallid fear,
