The Complete Plays of Oscar Wilde. Оскар Уайльд

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      I will take service with the Doge at Venice,

       And bid him pack me straightway to the wars,

       And there I will, being now sick of life,

       Throw that poor life against some desperate spear.

       [A groan from the DUKE’S chamber again.]

       Did you not hear a voice?

      MORANZONE

      I always hear,

       From the dim confines of some sepulchre,

       A voice that cries for vengeance. We waste time,

       It will be morning soon; are you resolved

       You will not kill the Duke?

      GUIDO

      I am resolved.

      MORANZONE

      O wretched father, lying unavenged.

      GUIDO

      More wretched, were thy son a murderer.

      MORANZONE

      Why, what is life?

      GUIDO

      I do not know, my lord,

       I did not give it, and I dare not take it.

      MORANZONE

      I do not thank God often; but I think

       I thank him now that I have got no son!

       And you, what bastard blood flows in your veins

       That when you have your enemy in your grasp

       You let him go! I would that I had left you

       With the dull hinds that reared you.

      GUIDO

      Better perhaps

       That you had done so! May be better still

       I’d not been born to this distressful world.

      MORANZONE

      Farewell!

      GUIDO

      Farewell! Some day, Lord Moranzone,

       You will understand my vengeance.

      MORANZONE

      Never, boy.

       [Gets out of window and exit by rope ladder.]

      GUIDO

      Father, I think thou knowest my resolve,

       And with this nobler vengeance art content.

       Father, I think in letting this man live

       That I am doing what thou wouldst have done.

       Father, I know not if a human voice

       Can pierce the iron gateway of the dead,

       Or if the dead are set in ignorance

       Of what we do, or do not, for their sakes.

       And yet I feel a presence in the air,

       There is a shadow standing at my side,

       And ghostly kisses seem to touch my lips,

       And leave them holier. [Kneels down.]

       O father, if ‘tis thou,

       Canst thou not burst through the decrees of death,

       And if corporeal semblance show thyself,

       That I may touch thy hand!

       No, there is nothing. [Rises.]

       ‘Tis the night that cheats us with its phantoms,

       And, like a puppet-master, makes us think

       That things are real which are not. It grows late.

       Now must I to my business.

       [Pulls out a letter from his doublet and reads it.]

       When he wakes,

       And sees this letter, and the dagger with it,

       Will he not have some loathing for his life,

       Repent, perchance, and lead a better life,

       Or will he mock because a young man spared

       His natural enemy? I do not care.

       Father, it is thy bidding that I do,

       Thy bidding, and the bidding of my love

       Which teaches me to know thee as thou art.

       [Ascends staircase stealthily, and just as he reaches out his hand to draw back the curtain the Duchess appears all in white. GUIDO starts back.]

      DUCHESS

      Guido! what do you here so late?

      GUIDO

      O white and spotless angel of my life,

       Sure thou hast come from Heaven with a message

       That mercy is more noble than revenge?

      DUCHESS

      There is no barrier between us now.

      GUIDO

      None, love, nor shall be.

      DUCHESS

      I have seen to that.

      GUIDO

      Tarry here for me.

      DUCHESS

      No, you are not going?

       You will not leave me as you did before?

      GUIDO

      I will return within a moment’s space,

       But first I must repair to the Duke’s chamber,

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