The Poems of Emma Lazarus Volume I Part 45

RIBERA (begins pacing the stage).

What fond fears are these Mastering my spirit? Since her mother died I tremble at the name of pain or ill.

How can my rude love tend, my hard hand soothe, The dear child's fragile-- [A confused cry without.]

What is that? My G.o.d!

How hast thou stricken me!

[He staggers and falls into a chair. Enter hastily FIAMETTA, weeping, and LUCA with gestures of terror and distress.]

FIAMETTA.

Master!

LUCA.

Dear master!

[RIBERA rises with a great effort and confronts them.]

RIBERA.

What is it? Speak!

LUCA.

Dear master, she is gone.

RIBERA.

How? Murdered--dead? Oh, cruel G.o.d! Away!

Follow me not!

[Exit RIBERA.]

FIAMETTA.

Help, all ye saints of heaven.

Have pity on him! Oh, what a day is this!

LUCA.

Quiet, Fiametta. When the master finds The empty, untouched bed, the silent room, His wits will leave him. Hark! was that his cry?

Reenter RIBERA calling.

Maria! Daughter! Where have they taken thee, My only one, my darling? Oh, the brigands!

Naples shall bleed for this. What do ye here, Slaves, fools, who stare upon me? Know ye not I have been robbed? Hence! Ransack every house From cave to roof in Naples. Search all streets.

Arrest whomso ye meet. Let no sail stir From out the harbor. Ring the alarum! Quick!

This is a general woe.

[Exeunt LUCA and FIAMETTA.]

The Duke's my friend; He'll further me. The Prince--oh, hideous fear!-- No, no, I will not dream it. Mine enemies Have done this thing; the avengers of that beggar-- Domenichino--they have struck home at last.

How was it that I heard no sound, no cry, Throughout the night? The heavens themselves conspired Against me--the hoa.r.s.e thunder drowned her shrieks!

Oh, agony!

[He buries his face in his hands. Enter ANNICCA; she throws herself speechless and weeping upon his neck.]

Thou knowest it, Annicca!

The thief has entered in the night--she's gone.

I stand and weep; I stir not hand or foot.

Is not the household roused? Do they not seek her?

I am helpless, weak; an old man overnight.

The brigands' work was easy. I heard naught.

But surely, surely, had they murdered her, I had heard that--that would have wakened me From out my grave.

ANNICCA.

Father, she is not dead.

RIBERA (wildly).

Where have they found her? What dost thou know? Speak, speak, Ere my heart break!

ANNICCA.

Alas! they have not found her; But that were easy. Nerve thyself--remember Thou art the Spagnoletto still. Last night Don John fled secretly from Naples.

RIBERA.

Ah!

Give me a draft of water.

[He sinks down on his chair.]

ANNICCA (calling).

Help, Tommaso!

Luca! Fiametta! Father, lookup, look up!

Gaze not so hollowly.

Enter DON TOMMASO and SERVANTS.

Quick! water, water!

Do ye not see he swoons?

[She kneels before her father, chafing and kissing his hands. Exit LUCA, who returns immediately with a silver flagon of water. ANNICCA seizes it and raises it to RIVERA'S lips. He takes it from her hand and drinks.]

RIBERA.

How your hand trembles!

See, mine is firm. You had spilt it o'er my beard Had I not saved it. Thanks. I am strong again.

I am very old for such a steady grasp.

Why, girl, most men as h.o.a.ry as thy father Are long since palsied. But my firm touch comes From handling of the brush. I am a painter, The Spagnoletto-- [As he speaks his name he suddenly throws off his apathy, rises to his full height, and casts the flagon to the ground.]

Ah, the Spagnoletto, Disgraced, abandoned! My exalted name The laughing-stock of churls; my hearthstone stamped With everlasting shame; my pride, my fame, Mine honor--where are they? With yon spilt water, Fouled in the dust, sucked by the thirsty air.

Now, by Christ's blood, my vengeance shall be huge As mine affront. I will demand full justice From Philip. We will treat as King with King.

HE shall be stripped of rank and name and wealth, Degraded, lopped from off the fellows.h.i.+p Of Christians like a rotten limb, proclaimed The b.a.s.t.a.r.d that he is. She shall go with him, Linked in a common infamy, haled round, A female Judas, who betrayed her father, Her G.o.d, her conscience, with a kiss. Her shadow Shall be my curse. Cursed be her sleep by night, Accursed her light by day--her meat and drink!

Accursed the fruit of her own womb--the grave Where she will lie! Cursed--Oh, my child, my child!

[He throws himself on the floor and buries his head among the cus.h.i.+ons of the couch. DON TOMMASO advances and lays his hand on RIBERA'S shoulder.]