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