MORANZONE: You will hear that soon enough. Being at war –
O noble lion of war, that would not suffer
Injustice done in Italy – he led
The very flower of chivalry against
That foul adulterous Lord of Rimini,
Giovanni Malatesta – whom God curse!
And was by him in treacherous ambush taken,
And was by him in common fetters bound,
And like a villain, or a low-born knave,
Was by him on the public scaffold murdered.

GUIDO (clutching his dagger): Doth Malatesta live?

MORANZONE: No, he is dead.

GUIDO: Did you say dead? O too swift runner, Death,
Couldst thou not wait for me a little space,
And I had done thy bidding!

MORANZONE (clutching his wrist): Thou canst do it!
The man who sold thy father is alive.

GUIDO: Sold! Was my father sold?

MORANZONE: Ay! Trafficked for,
Like a vile chattel, for a price betrayed,
Bartered and bargained for in privy market
By one whom he had held his perfect friend,
One he had trusted, one he had well loved,
One whom by ties of kindness he had bound –
Oh! To sow seeds of kindness in this world
Is but to reap ingratitude!

GUIDO: And he lives
Who sold my father.

MORANZONE: I will bring you to him.

GUIDO: So, Judas, thou art living! Well, I will make
This world thy field of blood, so buy it straightway,
For thou must hang there.

MORANZONE: Judas said you, boy?
Yes, Judas in his treachery, but still
He was more wise than Judas was, and held
Those thirty silver pieces not enough.

GUIDO: What got he for my father’s blood?

MORANZONE: What got he?
Why cities, fiefs, and principalities,
Vineyards, and lands.

GUIDO: Of which he shall but keep
Six feet of ground to rot in. Where is he,
This damned villain, this foul devil? Where?
Show me the man, and come he cased in steel,
In complete panoply and pride of war,
Ay, guarded by a thousand men-at-arms,
Yet I shall reach him through their spears, and feel
The last black drop of blood from his black heart
Crawl down my blade. Show me the man, I say,
And I will kill him.

MORANZONE (coldly): Fool, what revenge is there?
Death is the common heritage of all,
And death comes best when it comes suddenly.

Goes up close to GUIDO.

Thy father was betrayed, there is your cue;
For you shall sell the seller in his turn.
I will make you of his household, you will sit
At the same board with him, eat of his bread –

GUIDO: O bitter bread!

MORANZONE: Your palate is too nice,
Revenge will make it sweet. Thou shalt o’ nights
Pledge him in wine, drink from his cup, and be
His intimate, so he will fawn on thee,
Love thee, and trust thee in all secret things.
If he bids thee be merry thou must laugh,
And if it be his humour to be sad
Thou shalt don sables. Then when the time is ripe –