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_ ACT V - SCENE II
[The court-room in the palace at Fiori, extremely crowded with restless and expectant people. The crowd is arranged on both sides of the stage, in such a way that a broad avenue is left in the middle, leading from the footlights to the back of the stage and gradually narrowing to a point at Beatrice's throne. On the extreme right and left of the stage, along the back of the crowd, stands the guard, a large body of armed soldiers, at attention, in double row. On either side the throne stands an armed soldier. As the curtain rises the court is all standing and looking off stage in a certain direction. Enter the Queen, Beatrice, from that direction, walks in, looking straight ahead, goes to the throne and seats herself. The court sits. The clerk begins to read.]
CLERK.
The first case to be heard is that of Lisa,
A widow with two small children, who resides
Near the Duke's wood, and has been caught in the act
Of cutting trees there, and hauling them home to burn.
BEA.
Stand, Lisa. You are a widow, I am told.
With two small children.
LISA.
Ay, your Majesty,
Two little boys.
BEA.
I know another widow, Lisa,
With two small children,--but hers are little girls.
Have you been cutting trees on the Duke's land?
LISA.
No, Majesty. I could not cut a tree.
I have no axe.
BEA.
And are you strong enough
To break a tree with your hands?
LISA.
No, Majesty.
BEA.
I see. What do you do, then? There must be
Some reason for this plaint.
LISA.
I gather wood
That's dead,--dried boughs, and underbrush that's been
A long time on the ground, and drag it home.
BEA.
Have you a wood-pile?
LISA.
Nay. I gather enough
Each day for the day's need. I have no time
To gather more.
BEA.
And does the dry wood burn
As well as other wood?
LISA.
Oh, better!
BEA.
I see.
You would as lief, then, have this wood you gather,
This dead wood, as a green tree freshly cut?
LISA.
Ay, I would liefer have it, Majesty.
I need a fire quickly. I have no time
To wait for wood to season.
BEA.
You may sit down,
LISA.
Is the Duke's agent here?
AGENT.
Ay, here.
BEA.
What is it the Duke's custom to have done
With this dead wood on his estate?
AGENT.
He burns it,
Your Majesty.
BEA.
You mean to say, I think,
He pays a price to have it gathered and burned.
AGENT.
Ay, Majesty.
BEA.
Where is it burned?
AGENT.
In a clearing.
BEA.
And what is cooked upon it?
AGENT.
Nothing is cooked.
The Duke is not a gypsy.
[With irritation.]
[Pause.]
[Slight titter in court-room, instantly hushed into profound silence.]
BEA.
[Evenly.]
If he were,
He would be shrewder, and not be paying money
For what this woman is glad to do for naught.
Nothing is cooked, and nobody is warmed,--
A most unthrifty fire! Do you bid the Duke,
Until he show me sounder cause for plaint,
Permit this woman to gather unmolested
Dead wood in his forest, and bear it home.--Lisa,
Take care you break no half-green boughs.--The next case?
CLERK.
Is that of Mario, a miller, accused
Of stealing grain. A baker, by name Pietro,
Brings this complaint against him,
MESSENGER.
[Rushing in and up to throne.]
Majesty,
Bianca of Lagoverde lies a-dying,
And calls for you!
BEA.
[Rising.]
She calls for me?
MESSENGER.
Ay, Majesty.
[Beatrice stands very still a moment, then turns to the townspeople.]
BEA.
[Earnestly and rapidly,]
You people, do you go now and live kindly
Till I return. I may not stay to judge you;
Wherefore I set you free. For I would rather
A knave should go at large than that a just man
Be punished. If there be a knave among you,
Let him live thoughtfully till I return.
[She steps down from the throne, and is immediately
seized by the arm on either side by the two guards who
have been standing beside the throne.]
BEA.
Why, what is this, Enrico?
[Looking up at the soldier on her right.]
Nay, it is not
Enrico!
[Looking to other side.]
Nor is it Pablo! How is this?
[From each side of the stage one row of the double
row of soldiers detaches itself, marches down around the
front of the stage and up towards the throne, making an
armed alley for the Queen to walk down, and entirely
surrounding the crowd.]
Nay, all new faces. So! Upon my word,
And keep your fingers from me!--I see you there,
Angelo! Do not turn your head aside!
And you, Filippo!--Is the sick hand better
I bound the bandage on?--Is't well enough
To draw a sword against me?--Nay, I am sick.
I, that have loved you as your mothers love you--
And you do this to me! Lead me away.
[The two guards lead out the Queen. Nobody else moves.
The townspeople cower and stare. The two little pages that
bore her train as she entered remain back of the throne,
not knowing what to do. As she goes by them, her train
dragging on the ground, the two ragged little boys of Lisa,
the wood-gatherer, run out from the group of citizens,
pick up the ends of her train, and go out, holding it
up, one of them with his arm over his eyes.] _
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