Margaret.

But is that all, Giovanni?

Pal. Saw’st thou them well from where thou wert?

Mar. Ay, tell me: The man in the blue jacket, who is he?

Pal. That’s Squarcialupu: he’s my first lieutenant. Did they not greet me?

Mar. I could count eighteen. Are there no more?

Pal. The least of these can muster Twenty as brave.

Mar. That’s not six hundred men.

Pal. But with them I can raise the town.

Mar. ’Tis pity The barons stand aloof.

Pal. They hold together On certain claims that touch their own estate. But in their hate of Hugo they will join us At first report of our success; and that I’ll make flame forth.

Mar. Alas! what canst thou do, Having so little means?

Pal. To-morrow night We shall surround the palace and capture Hugo.

Mar. One regiment could drive all thy men away.

Pal. He dare not give the word.

Mar. How know’st thou that?

Pal. I have sprung a cranny in his council-board, Thro’ which crumbs fall to me.

Mar. Nay, but you force him ... The viceroy to yield up his power to a rebel! Hugo, his person to your hated hands!

Pal. Well, he may fly; and then my word is, Sack And fire the palace.

Mar. Giovanni, if he fight, Thou wilt be killed or taken.

Pal. And what of that?

Mar. What, askest thou! ask what! Methinks the world Holds but one treasure—thee: and thou dost wrong Creation, staking all her store at once On such a sleight of fortune. It shall not be. Nay, for my sake it shall not. Dost thou love me?

Pal. Love thee? O, Margaret, when I look on thee, And see the dazzling wealth, with which I hardly Shall scrape to heaven, may God forgive me, love, But I would be for ever pinched in hell, Rather than miss thee.

Mar. To me art thou as precious: Therefore be wise. Where is the list of names?

Pal. ’Tis here.

Mar. What read I here? These are thy captains, Palicio: these thy rivals, Margaret! Why, ’mongst these names—nay, tho’ I here see names Renowned for outrage—there is not one name Of such respect, that I can think it possible Its leadership can bid thee cast away Thy life, my life, our love.

Pal. They are all brave men.

Mar. They are ignorant, desperate, and reckless men.

Pal. ’Tis by such recklessness I come at right.

Mar. ’Tis recklessness throughout. See, thou art wounded And weak; a price upon thy head: think of it,— And trust the people’s rights to Manuel; Leave them to the barons: we’ve a better task: Sail o’er to Rome, there reassume thy rank; Let us be married, and await the day That Manuel finds thy pardon.

Pal. Tempt me not, Margaret.

Mar. Else are we lost.

Pal. Nay, fear not: there’s a traitor In the enemy’s camp; from whom I’ll have such tidings As will ensure success.

Mar. Who is it?

Pal. Blasco.

Mar. Blasco!

Pal. He hath your money; and for that price Will tell how Hugo may be best surprised. That is my venture, Margaret ... If it fail ...

Mar. Thou wilt be slain.

Pal. Nay, I may still escape.

Mar. And then thou’lt come?

Pal. I will.

Mar. Promise but that: That if this venture fail, and thou escape, Thou wilt not risk again.

Pal. Ay, if I fail.

Mar. Promise.

Pal. I promise.

Mar. Thou wilt lose nothing, for my brother alone Can do much more than thou with these base men, Who stain the cause. One favour more.

Pal. What is it?

Mar. ’Tis that this evening, love, be spent together.

Pal. I mean it should. To-night our fellows meet In various rendezvous, as you may see Upon the paper. There are ten in all They will not need my presence till to-morrow, When the bands join at sundown. O, Margaret: I knew that thou wouldst come.

Mar. I think, Giovanni, Thou shouldst have met me first thyself: thy men Are rough.

Pal. Was any rude?

Mar. Nay, ’twas well meant, But sounded strangely.

Pal. Say but who it was.

Mar. No, ’tis forgiven.

Pal. (going). Kiss me.

Mar. Ah, now, Giovanni, Where wilt thou go?

Pal. But for one hour, my dearest, I must be absent. Then shall I be yours For all the day.

Mar. Farewell. And prithee send Lucia. I will await thee.

Pal. Farewell. [Exit.

Mar. I have his promise, If this scheme fail. ’Tis mine to make it fail. O, ’tis too dangerous: to trust so far That dollar-ballasted Iscariot, The weather-trimming Blasco.—The paper! the list! I’ll have their names. Where can I write them? Ah! My prayer-book. I will send them straight to Hugo. Poor Constance! Burn the palace! Ay, and thee, For aught they care. Now, who comes first? Bendettu Jacupu ... and your place?—within the cloister Of Santo Spirito. Next, Squarcialupu ... Why, that’s the ruffian who would like a dozen Wives such as I. He’ll find one were too many. Go you to prison, sir, and cool your thoughts. You burn the palace!—Messer Vincentiu Lazaru ... at his peltry shed at Baido. Now there’s two pages of them: the little prayers Will hardly shrive them ... here’s one I cannot read. B-o-n-o-Bononio, now I have him. Why who could trust such men? Set them in power But for a day ... say this next villain here, Fardello ... he’s a murderer—ay, for him I write his death, maybe: but for the rest I’ll take such care that Manuel’s voice shall ease Their accusation. Now I have them all. Lucia! Ho, Lucia!

Enter Lucia.

See, take this book: Return straight to Palermo: find some friend, Whom thou canst trust: commit it to her hands; Tell her to give it secretly to Livio, Bidding him read what is writ down in the margins; And say ’twas given to her by one she knew not, And with that message. All our happiness Is staked on this. Begone. Haste for thy life.