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Enter JACOPO.

Jacopo. I wait for your command, sir.
Luria.
What, so soon?
I thank your ready presence and fair word.
I used to notice you in early days
As of the other species, so to speak,
Those watchers of the lives of us who act
That weigh our motives, scrutinise our
thoughts.

So, I propound this to your faculty
As you would tell me, were a town to take
..That is, of old. I am departing
hence

10 Under these imputations; that is nought-
I leave no friend on whom they may re-
bound,

Hardly a name behind me in the land, Being a stranger: all the more behoves That I regard how altered were the case With natives of the country, Florentines On whom the like mischance should fall: the roots

O' the tree survive the ruin of the trunk No root of mine will throb, you understand. But I had predecessors, Florentines, 20 Accused as I am now, and punished so The Traversari: you know more than I How stigmatised they are, and lost in shame.

Now Puccio, who succeeds me in command Both served them and succeeded, in due time;

He knows the way, holds proper documents, And has the power to lay the simple truth

Before an active spirit, as I count yours: And also there's Tiburzio, my new friend, Will, at a word, confirm such evidence, 30 He being the great chivalric soul we know. I put it to your tact, sir were't not well, A grace, though but for contrast's sake,

no more,

If you who witness, and have borne a share
Involuntarily in my mischance,
Should, of your proper motion, set your
skill

that is, investigate

To indicate
The right or wrong of what mischance
befell

Those famous citizens, your countrymen? Nay, you shall promise nothing: but reflect, 40 And if your sense of justice prompt you good!

Jacopo. And if, the trial past, their fame stand clear

To all men's eyes, as yours, my lord, to
mine

Their ghosts may sleep in quiet satisfied!
For me, a straw thrown up into the air,
My testimony goes for a straw's worth.
I used to hold by the instructed brain,
And move with Braccio as my master-
wind;

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Enter DOMIZIA.

Luria. Ah, you once more?

Domizia. Domizia, whom you knew,
Performed her task, and died with it. 'Tis
I,

Another woman, you have never known.
Let the past sleep now!

Luria.
I have done with it.
Domizia. How inexhaustibly the spirit 60
grows!

One object, she seemed erewhile born to
reach

With her whole energies and die content,-
So like a wall at the world's edge it stood,
With nought beyond to live for, is that

reached?

Already are new undreamed energies Outgrowing under, and extending farther To a new object; there's another world. See! I have told the purpose of my life; 'Tis gained: you are decided, well or ill You march on Florence, or submit to 7c her.

My work is done with you, your brow declares.

But leave you? More of you seems yet to reach:

I stay for what I just begin to see.

Luria. So that you turn not to the past!
Domizia.
You trace

Nothing but ill in it my selfish impulse,
Which sought its end and disregarded
yours?

Luria. Speak not against your nature: best, each keep His own you, yours

I keep mine,

most, now that

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Luria. In my own East . . . if you would stoop and help

My barbarous illustration! It sounds ill;
Yet there's no wrong at bottom: rather,
praise.
Domizia. Well?

Luria.

We have creatures there, which if you saw

The first time, you would doubtless marvel at

For their surpassing beauty, craft and strength.

And though it were a lively moment's shock

When you first found the purpose of forked tongues

That seem innocuous in their lambent play,

10 Yet, once made know such grace requires such guard,

Your reason soon would acquiesce, I think,
In wisdom which made all things for the
best

So, take them, good with ill, contentedly,
The prominent beauty with the latent sting.
I am glad to have seen you wondrous
Florentines:

Yet.

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Aught else?

And I only wait for him. Repair our harm - so were to-day's work

done;

A movement of the Lucchese But where leave Luria for our sons to see?
No, I look farther. I have testified
(Declaring my submission to your arms)
Her full success to Florence, making clear
Your probity, as none else could: I spoke,
And out it shone!

Toward Florence? Have

Luria.

Husain.

troops Southward

Luria.

out instantly Ah, old use clings! Puccio must

care

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Luria. Ah until Braccio spoke! Braccio. Till Braccio told in just a word the whole

His lapse to error, his return to knowledge: Nay, Luria, I should

Enter TIBURZIO, BRACCIO, and PUCCIO. Which told

not at Pisa?

I return

Tiburzio?
Tiburzio.
From Florence: I serve Pisa, and must
think

By such procedure I have served her best. A people is but the attempt of many 10 To rise to the completer life of one;

And those who live as models for the mass
Are singly of more value than they all.
Such man are you, and such a time is this,
That your sole fate concerns a nation more
Than much apparent welfare: that to
prove

Your rectitude, and duly crown the same,
Imports us far beyond to-day's event,
A battle's loss or gain: man's mass re-
mains,

Keep but God's model safe, new men will
rise

20 To take its mould, and other days to prove How great a good was Luria's glory. True

I might go try my fortune as you urged And, joining Lucca, helped by your disgrace,

droop the head,

I whom shame rests with! Yet I dare look up,

Sure of your pardon now I sue for it, Knowing you wholly. Let the midnight end!

'Tis morn approaches! Still you answer not?

Sunshine succeeds the shadow past away; Our faces, which phantasmal grew and false,

30

Are all that felt it: they change round you, 40

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A SOUL'S TRAGEDY.

1846.

ACT FIRST, BEING WHAT WAS CALLED THE POETRY OF CHIAPPINO'S LIFE; AND ACT SECOND, ITS PROSE.

A SOUL'S TRAGEDY.

PERSONS.

Of the world's good! What can I say,

shall serve?

Eulalia. This, - lest you, even more than needs, embitter

LUITOLFO and EULALIA, betrothed lovers. Our parting: say your wrongs have cast,

CHIAPPINO, their friend.

OGNIBEN, the Pope's Legate.

Citizens of Faenza.

TIME, 15.

PLACE, Faenza.

for once,

A cloud across your spirit!
Chiappino.

How a cloud? Eulalia. No man nor woman loves you, did you say?

Chiappino.

ACT I. The poetry Eulalia.

SCENE. Inside LUITOLFO's house.

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The Provost were less friendly to your friend

Than everybody here professes him,

I should begin to tremble - should not you?

10 Why are you silent when so many times I turn and speak to you?

That's good!

Chiappino.
Eulalia.
You laugh!
Chiappino. Yes. I had fancied noth-
ing that bears price

In the whole world was left to call my own;
And, may be, felt a little pride thereat.
Up to a single man's or woman's love,
Down to the right in my own flesh and
blood,

There's nothing mine, I fancied,- till you
spoke:

- Counting, you see, as "nothing" the permission

To study this peculiar lot of mine 20 In silence: well, go silence with the rest

My God, were't not for thee! Ay, God remains,

Even did men forsake you. Chiappino.

Oh, not so!

Were't not for God, I mean, what hope of

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Did I not turn to thee! It is thy prompting

I dare to be ashamed of, and thy counsel 40 Would die along my coward lip, I know. But I do turn to thee. This craven tongue, These features which refuse the soul its

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You shall now, to style

- why the thing we please | That you use well or ill? It's man, in me,
All your successes are an outrage to,
You all, whom sunshine follows, as you
say!

My gratitude to you and all your friends
For service done me, is just gratitude
So much as yours was service: no whit

more.

Here's our Faenza birthplace; they send here

I was born here, so was Luitolfo; both A provost from Ravenna: how he rules, At one time, much with the same circum-You can at times be eloquent about. 'Then, end his rule!"

stance

Of rank and wealth; and both, up to this night

Of parting company, have side by side Still fared, he in the sunshine I, the shadow.

IO "Why?" asks the world. "Because," replies the world

To its complacent self, "these playfellows, "Who took at church the holy-water drop "Each from the other's finger, and so forth,

"Were of two moods: Luitolfo was the proper

"Friend-making, everywhere friend-find-
ing soul,

"Fit for the sunshine, so, it followed him.
A happy-tempered bringer of the best
"Out of the worst; who bears with what's
past cure,

"And puts so good a face on't wisely
passive

20 "Where action's fruitless, while he remedics

30

"In silence what the foolish rail against; "A man to smooth such natures as parade "Of opposition must exasperate;

66

No general gauntlet-gatherer for the weak Against the strong, yet over-scrupulous "At lucky junctures; one who won't forego "The after-battle work of binding wounds, "Because, forsooth he'd have to bring himself

"To side with wound-inflictors for their leave!"

Why do you gaze, nor help me to repeat What comes so glibly from the common mouth,

About Luitolfo and his so-styled friend?
Eulalia. Because that friend's sense is
obscured
Chiappino.

I thought You would be readier with the other half Of the world's story, my half! Yet, 'tis

true.

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stroke does that!

15

"Ah yes, one

"But patience under wrong works slow 50 and sure.

"Must violence still bring peace forth? He, beside,

"Returns so blandly one's obeisance! ah

"Some latent virtue may be lingering yet, "Some human sympathy which, once excite,

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'And all the lump were leavened quietly:
"So, no more talk of striking, for this
time!"

But I, as one of those he rules, won't bear
These pretty takings-up and layings-down
Our cause, just as you think occasion
suits.

Enough of earnest, is there? You'll play, 60 will you?

Diversify your tactics, give submission,
Obsequiousness and flattery a turn,
While we die in our misery patient deaths?
We all are outraged then, and I the first:
I, for mankind, resent each shrug and
smirk

Each beck and bend, each . . . all you do
and are,

I hate!

Eulalia. We share a common censure,

then.

'Tis well you have not poor Luitolfo's part Nor mine to point out in the wide offence.

Chiappino. Oh, shall I let you so escape 70 me, lady?

Come, on your own ground, lady, - from yourself,

(Leaving the people's wrong, which most is
mine)

What have I got to be so grateful for?
These three last fines, no doubt, one on the
other
Paid by Luitolfo?
Eulalia.
Chiappino.

Shame, Chiappino!

Shame Fall presently on who deserves it most! - Which is to see. He paid my fines --my friend,

Your prosperous smooth lover presently, Then, scarce your wooer, soon, your husband: well

I loved you.

Eulalia. Hold!

Chiappino. You knew it, years ago. When my voice faltered and my eye grew

dim

80

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