SCENE II
_The Vatican: Sala dei Pontifici._
_A brilliant assembly. The_ POPE _is enthroned: in front of him is a table on which is set a great jewel-case. To the left are the_ CARDINALS; _to the right_ DUKE CESARE DE VALENTINOIS DELLA ROMAGNA, _in cloth of gold and pearls. Before the table_ DONNA LUCREZIA BORGIA D’ARAGON, _in cloth of gold and pearls, a black ribbon confining her hair, receives the nuptial ring of_ DON ALFONSO D’ESTE _from the hands of his brother the_ LORD CARDINAL IPPOLITO D’ESTE.
IPPOLITO.
With all his heart the illustrious Don Alfonso Sends by my hand this ring.
LUCREZIA.
With all my heart I take this ring.
[CARDINAL IPPOLITO _puts it on her finger_.
ALEXANDER.
So now we are made an Este! Donna Lucrezia Borgia d’Este, come, The Church enfolds thee dearly.
[_He embraces her; then she stands by him at her brother’s side._
Lord Ippolito, Open the nuptial gift, Duke Ercole’s.
IPPOLITO.
Fair sister, white as moonlight for the stars, Would in this prison all the constellations, That dew the paths of heaven when Luna shines, Were clustered for your taking! Fair, How you would set with twisted gold Orion, And all the planets from the rubious Mars To emerald-dartling Mercury. O Fair, We are not gods to homage our Elect, To wrench the sky and rob its flowering lights; But all that mines and rocks can make eternal Of those pure rays that span mortality Are at your feet.
ALEXANDER.
My lord Ippolito, Your words with admirable beauty heighten The preciousness of this most precious gift.
[CARDINAL IPPOLITO _and the_ FERRARESE TREASURER _open the coffer_.
Ha! The lips suck, and even upon the palate These sparkles dance and twang. Oh, marvellous! Inert we call this body, yet it seeks The corners of the chamber as with song; A voice strikes on our fibres. Cesare, These rubies.... You are poor! Collars! Who would not Be captive to these links? [_Putting one on._] See, on the breast This great rock-sapphire sullen! Pearls--the pearls! the pearls! Soft--ah, but soft. I smile, as old Tithonus At the rainbow-paps of Dawn. This ring, a woman’s, Can sit on my first joint to pipe its tale Of shepherds in the showery grass. What joyance, Heartiness as from cordial-glasses, drunk By eyes and touch and spirit, in this treasure! My lord, my lord! You set resplendent eyes upon the Bride. Ah, lord Ippolito! Serenely She gives their posts of beauty to these jewels; For her they strike and bleed, herself they honour, For her they strike and bleed, herself they honour, Their chief ally your gaze.
[_The_ PRINCES OF FERRARA _and the_ CARDINALS _make their presentations_.
Gifts, gifts--more gifts! The Church, the World munificent.
[LUCREZIA _smiles and thanks the_ PRINCES _and_ CARDINALS _with deep inclinations_.
Burcardus, Remove the magic table; in its room We too must weave our magic. Bring the sweetmeats! A shower of pleasant hail in these warm bosoms; Not golden rain of Jove, but feastful sugar....
[_He throws confetti into the bodices of the ladies._ DONNA GIULIA FARNESE _and some of the fairer among them pelt him back_.
LUCREZIA.
[_Softly sucking a sweetmeat._] My lord Ippolito, this crucifix, And this, and this--your gifts ... they will know my hand Close as the nuptial ring.
IPPOLITO.
Fairest, and most devout!
ALEXANDER.
The floors are clear; and I have my petition. Cesare, grant us joy! Dance with your sister. My stars, my Gemini! Lead forth the Duchess.... Delay? My prayer!
[CESARE _bends close to_ LUCREZIA _and whispers in her ear. She turns white, then rose-red, with her eyes on the ground_.
My prayer!
[LUCREZIA _lays her hand in_ CESARE’S.
CESARE.
[_Laughing and bowing to the_ POPE.] The tambourines!
[_They dance a slow Spanish dance: as they begin_ LUCREZIA _lifts her eyes to_ CESARE’S _face, and, looking into each other’s eyes, they tread the measure_.
ALEXANDER.
[_Clapping and humming with delight._
More, more! Could I but make these orbits everlasting, God on the Earth had then His praise forever, His music of the heavens.... My gold stars, Each with its angel in a glory. More!
[_The dance goes on to music and hand-clapping._