.

For you shall sell the seller in his turn.

       I will make you of his household, you shall sit

       At the same board with him, eat of his bread -

      GUIDO O bitter bread!

      MORANZONE

       Thy palate is too nice,

       Revenge will make it sweet. Thou shalt o’ nights

       Pledge him in wine, drink from his cup, and be

       His intimate, so he will fawn on thee,

       Love thee, and trust thee in all secret things.

       If he bid thee be merry thou must laugh,

       And if it be his humour to be sad

       Thou shalt don sables. Then when the time is ripe -

       [GUIDO clutches his sword.]

       Nay, nay, I trust thee not; your hot young blood,

       Undisciplined nature, and too violent rage

       Will never tarry for this great revenge,

       But wreck itself on passion.

      GUIDO

       Thou knowest me not.

       Tell me the man, and I in everything

       Will do thy bidding.

      MORANZONE

       Well, when the time is ripe,

       The victim trusting and the occasion sure,

       I will by sudden secret messenger

       Send thee a sign.

      GUIDO How shall I kill him, tell me?

      MORANZONE

       That night thou shalt creep into his private chamber;

       But if he sleep see that thou wake him first,

       And hold thy hand upon his throat, ay! that way,

       Then having told him of what blood thou art,

       Sprung from what father, and for what revenge,

       Bid him to pray for mercy; when he prays,

       Bid him to set a price upon his life,

       And when he strips himself of all his gold

       Tell him thou needest not gold, and hast not mercy,

       And do thy business straight away. Swear to me

       Thou wilt not kill him till I bid thee do it,

       Or else I go to mine own house, and leave

       Thee ignorant, and thy father unavenged.

      GUIDO Now by my father’s sword -

      MORANZONE

       The common hangman

       Brake that in sunder in the public square.

      GUIDO Then by my father’s grave -

      MORANZONE

       What grave? what grave?

       Your noble father lieth in no grave,

       I saw his dust strewn on the air, his ashes

       Whirled through the windy streets like common straws

       To plague a beggar’s eyesight, and his head,

       That gentle head, set on the prison spike,

       For the vile rabble in their insolence

       To shoot their tongues at.

      GUIDO

       Was it so indeed?

       Then by my father’s spotless memory,

       And by the shameful manner of his death,

       And by the base betrayal by his friend,

       For these at least remain, by these I swear

       I will not lay my hand upon his life

       Until you bid me, then - God help his soul,

       For he shall die as never dog died yet.

       And now, the sign, what is it?

      MORANZONE

       This dagger, boy;

       It was your father’s.

      GUIDO

       Oh, let me look at it!

       I do remember now my reputed uncle,

       That good old husbandman I left at home,

       Told me a cloak wrapped round me when a babe

       Bare too such yellow leopards wrought in gold;

       I like them best in steel, as they are here,

       They suit my purpose better. Tell me, sir,

       Have you no message from my father to me?

      MORANZONE

       Poor boy, you never saw that noble father,

       For when by his false friend he had been sold,

       Alone of all his gentlemen I escaped

       To bear the news to Parma to the Duchess.

      GUIDO Speak to me of my mother.

      MORANZONE

       When thy mother

       Heard my black news, she fell into a swoon,

       And, being with untimely travail seized -

       Bare thee into the world before thy time,

       And then her soul went heavenward, to wait

       Thy father, at the gates of Paradise.

      GUIDO

       A mother dead, a father sold and bartered!

       I seem to stand on some beleaguered wall,

       And messenger comes after messenger

       With a new tale of terror; give me breath,

       Mine ears are tired.

      MORANZONE

       When thy mother died,

       Fearing our enemies, I gave it out

       Thou wert dead also, and then privily

       Conveyed thee to an ancient servitor,

       Who by Perugia lived; the rest thou knowest.

      GUIDO Saw you my father afterwards?

      MORANZONE

       Ay! once;

       In mean attire, like a vineyard dresser,

       I stole to Rimini.

      GUIDO [taking his hand]

       O generous heart!

      MORANZONE

       One can buy everything in Rimini,

       And so I bought the gaolers! when your father

       Heard that a man child had been born to him,

       His noble face lit up beneath his helm

       Like a great fire seen far out at sea,

       And taking my two hands, he bade me, Guido,

       To rear you worthy of him; so I have reared you

       To revenge his death upon the friend who sold him.

      GUIDO

       Thou hast done well; I for my father thank thee.

       And now his name?

      MORANZONE

       How you remind me of him,

       You have each gesture that your father had.

      GUIDO The traitor’s name?

      MORANZONE

       Thou wilt hear that anon;