Act IV: Scene III

RIBERA.How laughingly the clear sun shines to-dayOn storm-drenched green, and cool, far-glittering seas!When she comes in to greet me, she will blushFor last night's terrors. How she crouched and shudderedAt the mere thought of the wild war without!Poor, clinging women's souls, what need is theirsOf our protecting love! Yet even on meThe shadow of the storm-cloud seemed to breed.Through my vexed sleep I heard the thunder roll;My dreams were ugly--Well, all that is past;To-day my spirit is renewed. 'T is longSince I have felt so fresh.Strange, she still sleeps!The hour is past when she is wont to comeTo bless me with the kiss of virgin love.Mayhap 't was fever in her eyes last nightGave them so wild a glance, so bright a lustre.God! if she should be ill!Luca!

LUCA.My lord?

RIBERA.Go ask Fiametta if the mistress sleeps--If she be ailing--why she has not comeThis morn to greet me.

RIBERA (begins pacing the stage).What fond fears are theseMastering my spirit? Since her mother diedI tremble at the name of pain or ill.How can my rude love tend, my hard hand soothe,The dear child's fragile--What is that? My God!How hast thou stricken me!

FIAMETTA.Master!

LUCA.Dear master!

RIBERA.What is it? Speak!

LUCA.Dear master, she is gone.

RIBERA.How? Murdered--dead? Oh, cruel God! Away!Follow me not!

FIAMETTA.Help, all ye saints of heaven.Have pity on him! Oh, what a day is this!

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

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 notI have been robbed? Hence! Ransack every houseFrom cave to roof in Naples. Search all streets.Arrest whomso ye meet. Let no sail stirFrom out the harbor. Ring the alarum! Quick!This is a general woe.The Duke's my friend;He'll further me. The Prince--oh, hideous fear!--No, no, I will not dream it. Mine enemiesHave 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 conspiredAgainst me--the hoarse thunder drowned her shrieks!Oh, agony!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 meFrom 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--rememberThou art the Spagnoletto still. Last nightDon John fled secretly from Naples.

RIBERA.Ah!Give me a draft of water.

ANNICCA (calling).Help, Tommaso!Luca! Fiametta! Father, lookup, look up!Gaze not so hollowly.

Quick! water, water!Do ye not see he swoons?LUCA, who returns immediately with a silver flagon of water. ANNICCAseizes it and raises it to RIVERA'S lips. He takes it from her hand

RIBERA.How your hand trembles!See, mine is firm. You had spilt it o'er my beardHad I not saved it. Thanks. I am strong again.I am very old for such a steady grasp.Why, girl, most men as hoary as thy fatherAre long since palsied. But my firm touch comesFrom handling of the brush. I am a painter,The Spagnoletto--Ah, the Spagnoletto,Disgraced, abandoned! My exalted nameThe laughing-stock of churls; my hearthstone stampedWith 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 hugeAs mine affront. I will demand full justiceFrom Philip. We will treat as King with King.HE shall be stripped of rank and name and wealth,Degraded, lopped from off the fellowshipOf Christians like a rotten limb, proclaimedThe bastard that he is. She shall go with him,Linked in a common infamy, haled round,A female Judas, who betrayed her father,Her God, her conscience, with a kiss. Her shadowShall 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 graveWhere she will lie! Cursed--Oh, my child, my child!cushions of the couch. DON TOMMASO advances and lays his hand

DON TOMMASO.Mine honored sir--

RIBERA (looks up without rising).Surely you mock me, signor.Honored! Yes, honored with a rifled home,A desecrated heart, a strumpet child.For honors such as these, I have not stintedSweat, blood, or spirit through long years of toil.I have passed through peril scathless; I was sparedWhen Naples was plague-stricken; I have 'scapedMine enemies' stiletto--fire and flood;I have survived my love, my youth, my self,My thrice-blest Leonora, whom I pitied,Fool that I was! in her void, silent tomb.The God of mercy hath reserved me trulyFor a wise purpose.

ANNICCA.Father, rise; take courage;We know not yet the end.

RIBERA.Why should I riseTo front the level eyes of men's contempt?Oh, I am shamed! Cover my head, Annicca;Darken mine eyes, and veil my face. Oh, God,Would that I were a nameless, obscure man,So could I bury with me my disgrace,That now must be immortal. Where thou standest,Annicca, there she stood last night. She kissed me;Round mine old neck she wreathed her soft, young arms.My wrinkled cheeks were wet with her warm tears.She shuddered, and I thought it was the thunderStruck terror through her soul. White-bearded fool!

FIAMETTA.I found this scrip upon the chamber-floor,Mayhap it brings some comfort.

RIBERA (starts up and snatches the paper she offers him, readsit rapidly, then to ANNICCA wildly).Look, look there--'T is writ in blood: "My duty to my lordForbids my telling you our present port."I would track her down with sleuth-hounds, did I notAbhor to see her face. Ah, press thy handsAgainst my head--my brain is like to burst--My throat is choked. Help! help!