Collected Works of Rafael Sabatini

by Rafael Sabatini

  AGABITO: So I judge by the sounds.

  CORELLA: And the duke is merry — merriest of all. He’s fallen headlong into the toils of an Assisian beauty...No; not Assisian...She is from Spoleto. Bianca Bracci is her name. A splendid woman. You should see her, Master Secretary. She’d quicken your sluggish old pulses, warm your coagulating old blood.

  AGABITO Pshaw!

  CORELLA: She’s fired his highness. AGABITO: His highness?

  CORELLA I’ve never seen him so beglamoured. Never. He placed her beside him at supper, and sat as nearly in her lap as decency permitted. Then he led her out to dance, as though she were the first lady in the place. But I tell you she’s worthy of the honour. A magnificent woman, Messer Agabito.

  AGABITO: Faugh!

  CORELLA: I believe you feed on parchments and sealing-wax, and your veins are filled with ink. Why...who’s this?

  [The main doors, down right, are opened by the Swiss guarding them, who enters to admit SCIPIONE.

  SCIPIONE: Where’s his highness?

  CORELLA (surprised): Scipione! What the devil are you doing here? Your place is in the lines under Solignola.

  [SCIPIONE comes forward. Two guards with a pinioned clown between them now appear and follow him in.

  SCIPIONE: I have just come from there with this joker. (Pointing to clown.) Where’s the duke, I say?

  [VALENTINOIS appears in the gallery. He is resplendent in a ball dress of white and gold (i.e., doublet of cloth of gold, edged with ermine, and either white hose or hose that is striped white and yellow); he wears his collar of St. Michael, a jewelled girdle, and there are tiny jewels in the network that confines his hair; there is also a large jewel — a long pearl — in his left ear; he is bareheaded. A pomander ball of filigree gold, and of the size of a small orange, dangles by a fine gold chain from his left wrist. Mainly he holds it in his hand, and makes play with it to his nostrils throughout the scene.

  VALENTINOIS: I am here. What is it?

  SCIPIONE: Highness, I have brought you this clown, caught in the act of slipping through the lines of Solignola. He carries this letter; but he refuses to say who sent him, or to give us any satisfaction whatever.

  [The music off dies down and ceases; the door being still open.

  VALENTINOIS: If he has a letter...That should tell us.

  SCIPIONE: But it is in cipher, magnificent.

  VALENTINOIS: Give it to me.

  [He takes the letter from SCIPIONE, considers it a moment by the light of the candle on the table.

  VALENTINOIS: Feminine characters, I should judge.

  [He bears it to his nostrils and sniffs it.

  VALENTINOIS: I’ve breathed that perfume before...and very lately.

  [Sudden suspicion lights his face. He cons the document again; then turns to the prisoner, speaking quietly.

  VALENTINOIS: At what hour did the Countess Panthasilea degli Speranzoni dispatch you to Solignola with this letter?

  [GINO (the clown) falls back thunderstruck. He stares a long moment at the duke, then cries out in a quavering voice.

  GINO: Men speak the truth of you!

  VALENTINOIS: Rarely, my friend; believe me; very rarely. What particular truth have you been hearing?

  GINO: That you have made a compact with the devil.

  VALENTINOIS: It’s as true as most things that are said of me. (To Corella.) Take this poor clown away, Micheletto, and let him be confined in solitude.

  [He waves the guards away. They thrust GINO out, CORELLA following them, and closing the door.

  [VALENTINOIS beckons AGABITO.

  VALENTINOIS: No need to waste time on him, when the letter will tell us all we want to know. Transcribe it for me, Agabito.

  [AGABITO sits down, takes the letter, and stares at it. AGABITO: But the cipher, highness?

  VALENTINOIS: The key has been obligingly supplied. Study that signature. It contains eleven numerals. The second, sixth and last are all the same. So also are the second, sixth and last of the eleven letters of the name Panthasilea. Assume it to be that, and see what comes of it. It supplies you half the alphabet.

  [AGABITO stares a moment, then takes up his pen, and gets quickly to work. VALENTINOIS turns to SCIPIONE.

  VALENTINOIS: Where have they bestowed Ramirez?

  SCIPIONE: Ramirez! He is above stairs, highness.

  VALENTINOIS: I shall want him presently, and I shall also want his sword. It is in my closet. Go fetch them both.

  SCIPIONE (eagerly): With submission, highness, dare I hope that you mean to deal mercifully with him?

  VALENTINOIS: Have you ever known me merciful to insubordination?

  [CoRELLA re-enters.

  SCIPIONE: Ramirez has the faults that go with his virtues, highness...

  VALENTINOIS (sharply): Enough! About it!

  [SCIPIONE bows hurriedly, and goes out by the gallery. VALENTINOIS turns to CORELLA.

  VALENTINOIS: This prisoner della Pieve? Where is he?

  CORELLA In his cell. Ready whenever your highness pleases.

  VALENTINOIS: Fetch him.

  [CORELLA goes out.

  VALENTINOIS: Well, Agabito? Is it done?

  [AGABITO rises, holding a written sheet from which he reads.

  AGABITO “I engaged his attention at last this morning, and I am bidden to a masque he is holding to-night. A promising beginning. Within a week I count upon an opportunity to carry out my aims. Let this enhearten you to do your part, PANTHASILEA.”

  [VALENTINOIS takes the sheet in his own hand, and cons it, reading on a musing inflexion.

  VALENTINOIS: “I count upon an opportunity to carry out my aims”...My aims? “All is ready...” Ready? (Hearing steps off.) Here comes Messer Gianluca. You have your instructions?

  AGABITO (tapping papers on the desk): They are here, magnificent.

  VALENTINOIS: To it, then. Examine him, as if I were not present.

  [He goes up into the shadows of the gallery. AGABITO resumes his seat.

  [The door opens, and CORELLA appears on the threshold. CORELLA: The prisoner is here, sir.

  AGABITO: Let him enter. And do you, Captain, place guards at the end of the gallery and suffer no one to pass.

  [CORELLA steps aside. GIANLUCA comes into view (from the right) between guards in the Borgia livery. He is wrapped in a cloak, his countenance is pale and wide-eyed with fear. AGABITO claps his hands and Two EXECUTIONERS enter from doorway left. They are brawny men, in skin-tight garments, like wrestlers, the torso cased in leather, the arms bare from the shoulder. They receive GIANLUCA from his guards, who withdraw. CORELLA goes up and out by gallery. Dance music, tripping and trivial, strikes up in the distance just before the door is opened by the departing CORELLA and is heard, though muffled now, after it has closed. The EXECUTIONERS drag GIANLUCA forward, visibly shrinking in horror of them. They pull off and cast away his cloak. From the waist upward he remains clad only in his shirt. They stand him immediately opposite to AGABITO, and themselves fall back a little. GIANLUCA has not seen VALENTINOIS, who should be as nearly as possible invisible.

  GIANLUCA: What do you want with me?

  [AGABITO’S voice is cold and dispassionate.

  AGABITO: Messer Gianluca della Pieve, you are guilty of plotting with Count Guido degli Speranzoni, Tyrant of Solignola, against the High and Mighty Lord Cesare Borgia, Duke of Valentinois and Romagna, Prince of Andria and Venafri; and of having prepared here in Assisi a pitfall for this same high and mighty lord. Thereby you have deserved death. But worse than death have you deserved when it is considered that his highness is Gonfalonier of Holy Church, that the battles he fights are the battles of the Holy See. Thus you offend not only against the Duke’s Magnificence, but against God and His earthly Vicar, Our Holy Father, the Pope. Yet since the Church in her infinite mercy has said Nolo mortem peccatoris, sed ut magis convertatur et vivat,” his Highness, in our Holy Father’s name, desires to spare you, so that you make frank and full confession of your offence.

 
GIANLUCA: I have nothing to confess.

  AGABITo: Look yonder, and assure yourself that we do not lack the means to unseal your lips if you prove obstinate.

  We have at our command cord and fire and water. Be sure that when we cannot twist out truth, we can burn it out or flood it out.

  GIANLUCA: You have not the right. It is not lawful. I am a patrician; by my birth and blood immune from torture.

  AGABITO: Had you offended merely against an earthly potentate, that plea might avail you. It cannot avail you here. So be reasonable, and confess.

  GIANLUCA (obstinately): I have nothing to confess.

  [AGABITO sighs heavily. His voice is sad.

  AGABITO: Executioners, do your office. First, the hoist.

  [The EXECUTIONERS seize GIANLUCA. One of them twists the patient’s wrists behind him, the other pinions them.

  GIANLUCA (in a moan): No...No.

  [VALENTINOIS emerges into view.

  VALENTINOIS: Wait!

  [He waves the EXECUTIONERS away. They fall back, leaving him alone with GIANLUCA in midstage.

  [GIANLUCA, amazed by his sudden appearance, stares at him in terrified fascination. VALENTINOIS’ face is sad, his eyes pitiful, his voice very soft and persuasive.

  VALENTINOIS: Messer Gianluca, consider what you do. Consider what is before you. You may have seen the hoist at work; you have perhaps seen it wrench a man’s arms from their sockets. (He places a hand on Gianluca’s shoulder, and tightens its grip.)

  [GIANLUCA winces, writhes and cries out in pain.

  VALENTINOIS: Consider by that how little you are fitted to endure the cord. Be assured that you will speak in the end. And when you have spoken, what do you think must follow? Once the hoist has gripped you, you become the property of the law, and when the law has made you speak, the law will silence you forever. From the agonies of a broken body, your release lies through the strangler’s hands.

  [GIANLUCA, shaking off the spell of the other’s persuasiveness, his voice strident.

  GIANLUCA: I...I have nothing to tell you. Your arts cannot conquer me.

  VALENTINOIS: They are very compassionate arts, compassionately employed. I admonish you to confess, so that you may be forgiven, so that you may spare that fair body from being broken and destroyed. Judge whether I admonish you in any interests but your own, when I tell you that you can confess nothing — nothing material — that is not already known to me.

  GIANLUCA (with a laugh, half-hysterical, half-ironic): Is it because all is known to you that you are at such pains to make me speak?

  [VALENTINOIS moves away; he speaks frostily, indifferently, the pomander to his nostrils.

  VALENTINOIS: I see that I must leave you to the tormentors. I have no time to waste in convincing you, for Madonna Panthasilea awaits me impatiently above stairs. She waits for me with smiles of allurement that might be very dangerous did I not know them false and treacherous as the false name of Bianca Bracci by which she calls herself. Her net is spread, and richly baited with her own luscious beauty; and she waits confident of her haul; so confident that already this evening has she written to her father — the scoundrel father who has committed her to this vileness — that within a week her work will be complete.

  [He looks at GIANLUCA, who is gaping awe-stricken. He laughs.

  VALENTINOIS: You see? Do you still think that you can discover anything that will harm your friends? Do you still doubt that I am other than compassionate when I admonish you to have pity on yourself?

  GIANLUCA: But what is there left to tell? Already you appear to know more than I do.

  VALENTINOIS: There is one little thing you can discover for me. The precise nature of this snare that has been set. Tell me that, and you shall have your life and immunity from this.

  GIANLUCA: I cannot. You shall have no evidence from me that you can use to this lady’s hurt.

  [In the passionate tone, VALENTINOIS detects GIANLUCA’S true feeling for the lady. His understanding is reflected on his face. He pauses a moment, then speaks quietly again.

  VALENTINOIs: To her hurt? Haven’t I evidence enough already? If you would serve her, you will answer me, for if you don’t I may have to place her where you now stand.

  GIANLUCA (in horror): What?

  VALENTINOIS: Unless I know enough to avoid the trap, I must take measures to protect myself. The first of these will be to have Monna Panthasilea strangled.

  GIANLUCA: Oh-h!

  VALENTINOIS: What else? Am I unreasonable to value my own life more than I value hers?

  GIANLUCA: Your life? Your life is not aimed at!

  VALENTINOIS: So, so! I thought there was more than murder here. What, then? Answer me if you would save yourself and her.

  GIANLUCA (after a pause): Oh, God pity me! I can’t!

  [VALENTINOIS considers him a moment.

  VALENTINOIS: Very well. Then I will send for her. (To the EXECUTIONERS.) Loosen his bonds. Restore him his cloak.

  [He is obeyed, to GIANLUCA’S increasing bewilderment.

  VALENTINOIS: When she comes I will confront her with you, her accuser and betrayer.

  GIANLUCA: You fiend! You — a prince, a great conqueror — and you’d stoop to that vile lie.

  VALENTINOIS: It is the truth.

  GIANLUCA: The truth.

  VALENTINOIS: The truth, you fool. It was you who first betrayed her identity to me this morning when I questioned you. It was you who disclosed to me this plot, of which until then I had not dreamed.

  GIANLUCA (in agony): O God! You tricked me.

  VALENTINOIS: Will she believe that? Will she believe that coming straight from quarrelling with her, it was by accident that you betrayed her?

  GIANLUCA: You devil! Do your worst! I will say nothing further to her hurt.

  VALENTINOIS: To her hurt? It is your silence that will hurt her. Come, come, Messer Gianluca, will you speak now or will you wait until you see her stretched upon the rack?

  GIANLUCA: The rack! For her! You cannot! You dare not!

  VALENTINOIS: Dare not! (To Agabito.) Tell Micheletto to bring Monna Panthasilea...Monna Bianca Bracci here.

  [AGABITO moves to obey.

  GIANLUCA (in frenzy): Oh, God help me! Wait! Wait! I’ll...I’ll...

  VALENTINOIS: My patience is running out.

  GIANLUCA (headlong): I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.

  VALENTINOIS: Speak, then!

  GIANLUCA: The aim of the plot is to take you alive, and carry you to Petrucci at Siena, there to hold you as a hostage whilst extracting terms from the Pope.

  VALENTINOIS: Aha! And how is this to be accomplished?

  GIANLUCA: I don’t know. That was a matter to be determined by Monna Panthasilea as the opportunity should serve her.

  [VALENTINOIS looks steadily into his face, and nods at last.

  VALENTINOIS: What assistance has she here in Assisi?

  GIANLUCA: I don’t know. She depended upon me. But I rebelled against her using herself in this unworthy way. It was on that we quarrelled, and I swore to hold aloof.

  VALENTINOIS: So that she will not find your absence strange. Hum! (He turns abruptly, claps his hands and calls.) Micheletto!

  [The door at the end of the gallery opens, and CORELLA advances; the music swells up in the closing strains of the dance, and presently ceases altogether.

  VALENTINOIS: Take Messer Gianluca della Pieve back to his prison. See that he is closely guarded.

  [MICHELETTO opens doors of main entrance; at a sign from him the guards re-enter. GIANLUCA staggers up, a man overwrought.

  GIANLUCA: What are you going to do to her?

  VALENTINOIS: What! Ah! Opportunity shall prompt me.

  GIANLUCA: You’ll not harm her!

  VALENTINOIS: For the evil she intends me, she shall receive good in return.

  GIANLUCA: Good!

  VALENTINOIS: Is not justice good? And she shall have that, I promise you. Strict justice. Neither more nor less.

  GIANLUCA (writhing in the
grip of his guards): You devil! You mocking, remorseless devil! You’ll not dare to harm her! You devil...you...

  [Still ranting, he is thrust out by the guards, CORELLA following, and the door is closed.