Dal Col. Shall I forget how near his kinship, Corso? Corso. A curse upon his kinship, if it block

Our way to better things; so let him bleed—

Each ruby drop a ducat represents;

Better his blood than ours. Such traitor loosed

Would hound whole hordes of Bianchi down on us.
By one weak act of clemency, we'll see

Our gold in stranger hands, our houses razed,
And every threshold blocked by throat-cut corpse.
Dal Col. It is too late. He must be ours, or die.
[He crosses to door and speaks to a Guard.
A follower. Best strike before Dal Colle's passion cools.
His valour might not last until the morn.

Corso. To-morrow we'll have other eggs to hatch.

[DAL COLLE returns with MARCO guarded. Dal Col. One chance we offer thee. Swear faith to us. Swear to attack the Bianchi. Swear to keep

Away from Florence, safe in exile-Dante.

Marco. As I loathe thee, I swear to loathe thine oaths,

And to unswear them all while I've tongue left.

Corso. No jesting, man; 'twixt life and death thou standest.

Give us a

"yea," thou'lt live--a "nay," thou'lt die! Marco. Nay, though it meant for me a thousand deaths! Corso. One death thou'lt find sufficient for thy years. [Attacks him.

Marco. Traitors! Not one true man amidst you all? Corso. As true as steel, when 'tis to slay our foes. Marco (near casement). Help! if there's justice left in Florence, help!

Corso (stabbing him). Silence, thou whining dog!

Marco.

Dal Col. Ay-to thy death!

Dal Colle! Help!

[Stabs him.

Marco (falls). O God! save my poor Cesca! [Dies.

Enter UBERTO and DINO.

Uber. Where is my father? Marco called for help. Corso. Here, help him if thou wilt, for there he lies. Uber. Dead! Slain before thee, slain without a word! Dino. A handsome corpse, if ye'd not mar its beauty. Uber. Whose treachery is this? Ye cravens, speak, That I may swift avenge the dead!

Dal Col.

Stay speech,

Else iron hands may lock thee in a cell,

Till solitude teach thee to mend thy words.

Uber. Can Heaven keep silent while such deeds are

done?

I wonder roof and wall, like Samson's pillars,

Fall not, to crush ye in your murderous pride.

Enter FRANCESCA.

Dino. Back, niece; this is no scene for thee. Away! Franc. O let me to my father. (Rushes to DAL COLLE, and kneels to him.) At thy feet,

In all my woman's helplessness, I fall,

Still, still thy child, to plead as in the days

When scarce my baby hands could reach thy knees;
To plead for what to me is more than life-
My husband. Give me Marco back! He's here.

And though I know thy father's love is shield,

Still other hearts more hardened throng these halls.
There is a very cruelty in the air,

A subtle sense of guilt and passion round.

Father, one word from thee will spare me pain;
Speak-where is Marco?

[DAL COLLE turns away.
sees CORSO's cloak.

O God! if Marco's

She gazes round and

There is blood upon thee.

[Rises, and discovers MARCO's body. O he's wounded. Help!

My Marco ! speak! Where art thou hurt? Look up! I'm here-Francesca-come to tend on thee.

We'll home, and there I'll nurse thee well again.

[She pauses, and begins to realize he is dead.

No, no; not that! Speak to me--Marco, speak!
One word-one little word, my love, my life,
My Marco! God! here with him let me die !

[Flings herself upon MARCO's body.

END OF ACT II.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Castle Porciano in Casentino. Night.

Enter GITA slowly with a light.

Gita. Who knocks?

Dino (outside). A friend of Dante's.

Let me to him.

Gita. How can I tell who's friend or not. No-no. Dino (outside). Open! 'Tis I, Dino Brunini, knocks! [GITA slowly unbars door and admits DINO. Dino. The wild wind whistled loud outside.

cloak,

Though closely drawn, near parted from my back.
Where is thy master, witch? Speak, lazy bones !
Gita. How should I know?

Dino.

My

Old know-naught, stir thy stumps ! Gita. The saints preserve us! Is he mad or fool? Witch-lazy bones-know-naught-both mad and fool! Dino. Thou dried-up mummy of thy youthful self, The Theban dead are fresh, compared to thee! Tell Dante who is here-haste, scour-pot-haste! Gita. Tell him—not I, fast flinger of foul words! May all the ills of life befall thee straight;

May murrain prey upon thy herds and flocks-
Blight crops; temptations of St. Anthony

Assail thy soul, and thou succumb to each;
May death-

Dante (having entered unobserved). Cease brawling, Gita! Get thee hence. [Exit GITA, grumbling. Thy message, Ser? What brings a stranger here?

And sourest tempers often make sweet cooks,

Who spoon-meats well can spice, while wrinkled hands Can roll smooth paste.

Dino.

All indigestion's ills.

Would wait upon my meals such hags did serve.

My appetite needs youth and comeliness.

I trust, Ser poet, welcome waits me here.

Dante. No; libertines and cowards suit me not.

Dino. Not when the liberty of libertine

And coward's courage both recall thee home.

Dante. Read me thy riddle quick, and get thee gone. Dino. 'Tis simply solved. Thy exile is at end. Dante. I put no credence in such embassy. Dino. All prejudice, good neighbour-prejudice ! Dante. Out with the motive of thy coming-haste! Dino. Thou hast a daughter, Dante, young and fair. Hadst thought of wedding her?