Valentio Di’Buondelmonte. Haig A. Khatchadourian

Valentio Di’Buondelmonte - Haig A. Khatchadourian


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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,

      Repeating for the hundredth time the sorry

      Tale in its bloody history. O Sodom

      Doomed to be dyed for e’er with running gore,

      Thy silent streets for ever haunted by

      The specter of death, and they great palaces

      The banquet-halls of reveling Mars!

      O for these haughty slaves whose hearts rejoice

      In civil blood, rather than to unsheathe

      Their eager words in the stern faces

      Of Florence’s common foes; while I am doomed

      To play a poor spectator’s sorry part

      Possessing not the power to do aught else,

      Compelled to taste the bitterness to be

      In name the ruler, in power not.

      But could I force the fleeting years retrace

      Their dusty steps, regain the heart unflinching

      And stout, of youth, pour ardour warm and zeal

      Herculean might to my sore trembling arms,

      I would not linger here uttering vain words.

      O idle wish bred of impotency!

      What redress doth remain save to assay

      To reconcile the alienated hearts?

      [Re-enter Oddo, Lamb., Valentio, and Rinieri]

      Oddo [addressing the Duke]:

      My Lord, I come demanding that Justice

      Be done to me.

      Duke:

      Hast thou been wronged?

      Oddo:

      Aye, wronged,

      Abused, scorned in the midst of gentlemen,

      And made a Justice-seeking fool, the while

      The root and source of all that roameth free

      Like as the fowls of heaven, and perchance

      To my undoing.

      Duke:

      Thou awakenest

      My curiousness to learn the name of the bold

      Offender: pray how goes it?

      Oddo:

      A name

      My furious lips would scorch if they assay

      To spell it: ‘tis no stranger to your ear.

      Rinieri:

      It spells ‘Valentio,’ Your Highness.

      [Enter Valentio and Uberto]

      Duke:

      Ah here he comes. [to Valentio] This gentleman [pointing to Oddo] doth claim

      Amends for certain wrongs that he maintains

      Thou hast done him. How wouldst thou defend

      Thyself against this charge?

      Valentio [after a pause]:

      My silence, both

      With


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