SINIBALDI (anxiously): And to-night?
PANTHASILEA: All is ready.
SINIBALDI: If you need help...
PANTHASILEA: I have men enough. Besides, he trusts me so completely; he is so utterly without suspicion...
SINIBALDI: You are sure? You are quite sure?
PANTHASILEA: Would he come in secret and alone if he were not?
SINIBALDI: No. I suppose not. And yet...he is subtle as all the fiends.
PANTHASILEA: This time his subtleties are blunted. (She sties a sigh.) Before morning he will be on his way to Siena, a helpless captive.
SINIBALDI: Eh? I marvel that you will still trouble to send him to Siena.
PANTHASILEA: Is not that what was concerted?
SINIBALDI: Yes; but at a time when there was no thought for such circumstances as you have so cleverly contrived. This alters everything. He comes in secret and alone — in secret and alone! When he fails to return, none will know what has become of him. None will even know whether he is alive or dead. He will have vanished, leaving no trace. Why trouble, then, to send him to Siena?
PANTHASILEA: What else?
SINIBALDI: What else? Is it not plain?
[He ceases abruptly as the door opens.
[SANTAFIORA comes in. He is armed and wears a peaked cap of steel.
SANTAFIORA: You sent for me, madonna. (He perceives Sinibaldi, and bows formally.) Lord Prince.
[SINIBALDI returns the bow.
PANTHASILEA: Ah, Santafiora! Is all ready?
SANTAFIORA: Whenever your ladyship pleases. The moment this fish is safely in I can cast the net. It will be better to take him as he leaves. It would be best of all in here...
PANTHASILEA (shrinking): No, no!
[SANTAFIORA shrugs and bows his acquiescence. She continues.
PANTHASILEA: At least not if it can be avoided. Post your men in the garden. Await him there — unless I should meanwhile call you.
SANTAFIORA: Very well, madonna. I shall be near at hand.
PANTHASILEA: And you will remember that he is to be taken alive?
SANTAFIORA: Of course. But this duke is a man of his hands. He has the strength of any other three.
PANTHASILEA: That is why there are six of you to do this thing.
SANTAFIORA: True. But if he gives trouble, if he should kill a man or two before we make him fast, I cannot answer for the temper of my fellows.
SINIBALDI: Of course not.
PANTHASILEA: I tell you, Santafiora, he must be taken alive. Alive he is worth a thousand times as much as dead. You understand?
SANTAFIORA: Madonna, you may depend upon me to deliver him to you — alive if possible.
SINIBALDI: I will pray Heaven that it may not be possible. Thus, considering what a man is Valentino, believe me it will prove best in the end.
PANTHASILEA (faintly scornful): For Venice, no doubt; but not for Solignola.
[GIULIA comes in by the double doors.
[PANTHASILEA turns to her questioning.
GIULIA: Madonna, it is close upon the second hour of night. I thought his excellency...
SINIBALDI (starting): You are right, by Heaven!
[He turns to take his leave of PANTHASILEA, but she has swung to SANTAFIORA.
PANTHASILEA: TO your post, Santafiora! Away with you!
SANTAFIORA: I go, madonna.
[He bows and goes towards the door.
PANTHASILEA: And you too, Lord Prince. You were best away.
[SANTAFIORA pauses at the door, waiting for SINIBALDI.
SINIBALDI: Madonna, I take my leave, rejoicing. When it is done send me word.
[He takes her hand, and bears it to his lips. [She stands as if frozen.
[He considers her an instant in silence, then speaks his sudden doubt.
SINIBALDI: You...you are not afraid?
PANTHASILEA: Afraid? Santafiora is waiting, Lord Prince.
[He accepts the rebuke, and bows.
[She inclines her head in response, and crosses to the settle, whilst SINIBALDI goes out with SANTAFIORA.
PANTHASILEA: Shut out that dismal moonlight, Giulia. — But do not latch the window.
[GIULIA goes up, closes the middle window, and draws the curtains across all three. PANTHASILEA, meanwhile dejectedly seats herself, staring into the fire.
[Having drawn the curtains, GIULIA comes down behind PANTHASILEA and stands considering her a moment.
GIULIA (fondly): Madonna!
[PANTHASILEA looks up at her, and attempts to smile her gratitude for this solicitude. She raises a hand to pat GIULIA’S. GIULIA takes it in both her own.
GIULIA: How cold you are!
PANTHASILEA Cold ay! Cold and sick. I begin to see that Gianluca was right; that this is a loathly Judas-trick.
GIULIA: It was a Judas-trick that lured Pietro Varano to his end.
PANTHASILEA (stiffening): I know. That is what I tell myself when I feel my courage melting. Because of that I shall carry this thing through. But I think I shall hate myself for ever after.
GIULIA: Yet many will love and bless you for it, madonna. Dwell on that.
PANTHASILEA: O God, help me! All that I can dwell on is his trust in me. He comes here so confidingly, so full of tender homage, so unsuspicious of the knife to which he bares his throat.
GIULIA: How often has he not lured others so?
PANTHASILEA: Do you know that sometimes I ask myself if that be true? When he talks, when he tells me of his dreams and aims, when he reveals the vileness of those upon whom he has made war, I begin to doubt the evil that is said of him by such men as...Sinibaldi. (Scornfully.) Sinibaldi! A creature steeped in treachery, sly, faithless, cruel, cynically using us, as he uses all men, to his own ends.
GIULIA: But surely, madonna, it is too well known that this Duke Valentino...
PANTHASILEA: Because a thing is well known, it does not follow that it is true. Consider, Giulia. We were led to believe this duke an odious monster. From what is said of him we had looked to find some horror of a man, malformed, prematurely aged and ravaged by disease and the wrath of Heaven. Instead...(She shrugs and makes a little gesture of scorn and helplessness.)
GIULIA (sighing): Ah yes! He is beautiful. No woman could deny that. But his beauty is from the devil. He is wicked and cruel, and he prevails by evil arts.
PANTHASILEA: Pshaw!
GIULIA: Do not sneer, madonna. Take heed, lest he bewitch you.
[Two strokes of a deep-toned bell.
[PANTHASILEA starts.
PANTHASILEA: It is the second hour of night. Soon he will be here. Leave me, Giulia.
GIULIA: Remember Pietro Varano, dear madonna. Remember Solignola, which depends upon you, and which will be lost if you should weaken.
PANTHASILEA: Weaken? Why, what matter now even if I should? Once he is here, the matter is accomplished. Sh! I hear his step.
[She rises, and with GIULIA turns to face the curtained windows. A moment they wait. Then the curtain masking the middle window is swept aside, and VALENTINOIS surges on the threshold. An instant he stands there raking the room with his glance.
[Wrapped in a hooded black cloak, he is in silhouette against the moonlight flooding the terrace behind him. Then he heaves a sigh that may be of satisfaction, and closes the window, but leaves the curtain drawn aside.
[He comes down, and at the foot of the steps lets his long mantle slip from his shoulders, emerging in close-fitting scarlet relieved only by a golden girdle from which hang dagger and purse.
[GIULIA cries out at the first sight of his cloaked and hooded figure. Having cast his cloak, he advances, speaking.
VALENTINOIS: Why, Monna Giulia, do I affright you? Did you but know...it is myself who come in fear.
PANTHASILEA (her voice strained): In fear, my lord?
VALENTINOIS (advancing towards her): How else are you to be approached, madonna, but in fear?
PANTHASILEA (dissembling her uneasiness): In fear of what?
VALENTINOIS: Of los
s of liberty.
[She starts.
VALENTINOIS: For what man can account himself free who has met your glance? What man can be other than a slave thereafter?...You laugh!
PANTHASILEA (breathing again): My lord, as a courtier, you outshine even the great soldier that you are.
VALENTINOIS: Whatever I may be elsewhere, madonna, here at your feet a courtier’s part contents me.
PANTHASILEA: Highness! Too much honour!
[She moves towards the table.
PANTHASILEA: You may leave us, Giulia.
[GIULIA curtsies in leave-taking, and goes out. At the door she pauses a moment, looking back upon them almost in fear. Meanwhile, PANTHASILEA at the table is taking up the beaker, and addressing VALENTINOIS anew.
PANTHASILEA: A cup of wine, my lord?
[She pours for him. He advances to take the cup. VALENTINOIS: With all my heart.
[He takes the glass and raises it towards his lips, but checks midway. His eyes narrow, and grow keen as they regard her. She is about to fill a second glass, when he stays her, covering it with his hand. She looks up at him in surprise. His countenance is again smiling and normal. Leaning towards her, he proffers his own glass.
VALENTINOIS: One cup for us twain, I do beseech it, lady, humbly conscious of my unworthiness. (On a sudden muted note of passion.) Pledge me, then, and leave the wine the richer by the fragrance of your lips.
PANTHASILEA (drawing back, as if to refuse): My lord!
VALENTINOIS: Nay, now, I insist.
PANTHASILEA: You insist?
[As she stares at him, a smile of understanding slowly breaks upon her face. Without another word, she drinks half the contents of the glass, then hands it to him.
[He takes it, heaving a sigh of satisfaction. As he drinks she speaks.
PANTHASILEA: You are content, I trust.
VALENTINOIS (smiling, as he sets down the cup): I see you understand. ForgIve the unworthy doubt. I should have known that one so lovely, one in whose eyes honour and truth shine so brightly and clearly, must be incapable of treachery or baseness. But I have walked so long amid snares, that mistrust of wine and steel is become an instinct. Forgive.
[She forces a light laugh, as she replies.
PANTHASILEA: Nay, my lord. I am honoured that you should appoint me to the exalted office of venom-taster in your household.
VALENTINOIS: I accept the rebuke. It is deserved, alas! My instinct conquered reason, which should have assured me that here, at least, I have nothing to fear.
[He is standing before her now, his back to the un-curtained window, which she faces.
[The figure of a man in a peaked steel cap like that worn by SANTAFIORA is silhouetted for a moment against it by the moonlight. Catching sight of it, she shrinks a little. The figure passes, and disappears. He has not observed it.
VALENTINOIS: Why do you shrink? And how cold you are!
PANTHASILEA (her voice trembling a little): It is very chill. The wind is in the north.
VALENTINOIS: Come nearer to the fire, my Bianca.
[Holding her hands in his own left, he slips his right arm round her waist to conduct her. She makes a half-protest.
PANTHASILEA: My lord!...
VALENTINOIS: Would you play the north wind to me? Would you use me coldly on this my last evening with you?
PANTHASILEA (with a catch in her voice): Your last evening!
VALENTINOIS: Of course you do not know. Come, I will tell you.
[She allows him to conduct her to the fire. He sinks to the settle, his back to the window. She remains standing before him, facing the window and him.
[The silhouette returns. Having reached mid-window, it halts there; the peaked steel headpiece, such as that worn by SANTAFIORA, is discernible in the outline.
[She watches it in terror lest VALENTINOIS should turn and also see it.
VALENTINOIS: Though I be Duke of Valentinois, and Lord of Life and Death throughout Romagna, yet I am the slave of harsh necessity. Duty and work command me. At dawn I must answer to the summons.
[The silhouette moves again, crossing slowly to the left, and vanishing. Her eyes never quit it. The moment it has disappeared, she leaves him, and goes quickly up towards the window. Surprised, he follows her with his glance.
VALENTINOIS: Why? What is it, Bianca?
[She drags the heavy curtain across the window.
[He starts up in a belated attempt to do the service.
PANTHASILEA: Thus we shall be more private.
[She returns towards him.
PANTHASILEA: You were saying, my lord?
VALENTINOIS: I don’t believe you heard a word of it, or you would have spared yourself that trouble. You would have known that I have not long to stay.
PANTHASILEA: But why, my lord?
VALENTINOIS: Because at dawn we deliver the final assault, which is to carry Solignola.
[He sits again. She remains standing, as before.
PANTHASILEA: You...you are certain that it will be final?
VALENTINOIS: In this life there are few things of which we can be certain. But that I shall ride as a conqueror to-morrow into Solignola is one of those few things.
PANTHASILEA: My lord, it is unlucky to be overconfident.
VALENTINOIS: Unless justified by every calculable circumstance.
PANTHASILEA: There is always the incalculable.
VALENTINOIS: Not here. Here all is soundly planned, and...(He breaks off, as if hesitating. Then resumes.) Why should I not tell you? Are you not my friend? My one true and loyal friend in a land that swarms with enemies and betrayers? Are you not, Bianca?
PANTHASILEA: Indeed, my lord.
VALENTINOIS (heaving a sigh of content): I do love to hear you protest it! It warms me like wine. Listen, then: There is here in Assisi a plot — a shrewd and well-laid plot — to destroy me.
PANTHASILEA (shrilly): My lord!
VALENTINOIS: Nay, do not start. It is no new thing. For years now I have walked constantly in the shadow of death and betrayal. Custom has robbed them of their terrors for me. They charge the air I breathe with a stimulus that makes me strong. Without them I might grow soft, and languish. Well, then, this plot: It was hatched in Solignola by the Speranzoni, and so confident are they of its success...Nay, do not tremble, child! There is no real cause for alarm. — They are so confident of its success, so drugged and lulled by this confidence, that they have kept a negligent watch up there at Solignola. Thus we have been able to mine the Southern wall at a spot where a week ago I spied out a weakness. They have offered us no hindrance, wIth the result that our operations are complete. At dawn we fire the mine, and enter through the breach. The Speranzoni meet the fate of those who lean on treachery.
[A silence.
PANTHASILEA But it still wants some hours to dawn. Betwixt this and then, much may betide.
VALENTINOIS: But nothing that is outside my calculations.
PANTHASILEA: How can you be so sure?
VALENTINOIS: Why! What do you fear for me, gentle lady?
PANTHASILEA: You spoke of a plot — a shrewd and well-laid plot to destroy you.
VALENTINOIS: How sweet is this concern! I vow you are trembling. Oh, dismiss your every fear. With the strength of the bull that is the emblem of my house, I combine the cunning of the fox. There have been more plots against my life, I do believe, than against the life of any man since Adam. Where are the plotters now? Mostly dead of the death they had prepared for me. They have my pity, poor deluded fools! My pity and my prayers. God rest their evil, foolish souls!
PANTHASILEA: But this present plot may not be like those others. This time the plotters may prevail. And if they did...
VALENTINOIS: Pooh! Why have they not yet struck? Because opportunity has been denied them. And now it is too late.
PANTHASILEA: Too late? You are sure?
VALENTINOIS: I am sure. None knows of my presence here to-night save you and Monna Giulia.
PANTHASILEA: We...we might
be in the plot.
VALENTINOIS (laughing): Dear saint! If I were capable, without good reason, of suspecting you of any vileness, why, then I should be unworthy to sit beside you here.
Collected Works of Rafael Sabatini Page 579
