Gardener's Dog, The - Act Second
F EDERIGO . You say she passed this way?
L EONIDO . Footing like dawn over the meadow, flecking the soft carpet with light; nor should devotion detain her long, for the priest has the wit to be brief.
F EDERIGO . Shall I accost her?
L EONIDO . Being her cousin, you cannot very well refrain.
F EDERIGO . Leonido, love prevails over kinship, though timidity be the child of love. A gentleman may visit a lady freely, a relative or a friend, so there be no further purpose, but let love enter in, though concealed, and he turns shy, fearing to speak or even to appear. Thus my suit bars me from the Countess, my cousin, till I languish an exile, desolate, since all my joy was to see her daily.
C ELIO . She comes afoot, attended.
R ICCARDO . The church being opposite we may admire her beauty as she illuminates the street.
C ELIO . Have you seen the sun on a bright morning rise in the east with his golden beams, gilding the pallid bull that pastures in the crimson celestial fields? — for so they look in the early morning, the poets tell us. Well, who outdoes two suns in beauty and perfection but the loveliest Diana, Countess of Belflor?
R ICCARDO . If I am a lover you are a painter, at least in the morning early. She is a sun, and we signs in the zodiac of her glory. Is that Count Federigo, posted where he expects a ray to fall?
C ELIO . Which of you is the pallid bull ready to be gilded?
R ICCARDO . He, being first, preimpts the dignity. As a later entrant, I shall enlist under the lion.
F EDERIGO . To L EONIDO . Is that Riccardo?
L EONIDO . The Marquis.
F EDERIGO . It were a marvel did he fail at the church.
L EONIDO . How smartly he is beribboned for worship!
F EDERIGO . Leonido, I, not you, should be jealous. Peace, prithee, peace!
L EONIDO . Jealous? I?
F EDERIGO . I am jealous even of your praise.
L EONIDO . But Diana will have neither of you, which I take it eliminates the jealousy.
F EDERIGO . She is a woman, and of necessity inclines to love.
L EONIDO . But she is vain, proud and then disdainful, which again is assurance to you both.
F EDERIGO . Ah, beauty has title to be proud!
L EONIDO . There's not much beauty in ingratitude, however.
C ELIO . To R ICCARDO . Diana comes, my lord.
R ICCARDO . Day breaks! Night flees.
C ELIO . Shall we speak?
R ICCARDO . The Count anticipates us — —
F EDERIGO . To D IANA . Desire has chained me to this pillar in your eternal service.
D IANA . Count, welcome support a thousand times!
R ICCARDO . Coming forward. Lady, with all good will now and ever must I adore and guard you.
D IANA . Marquis, here is double happiness, redoubled grace.
R ICCARDO . Lady, favor is born of love.
F EDERIGO . To L EONIDO . Her speech was short, her mien abrupt.
L EONIDO . Count, have courage! Follow her.
F EDERIGO . Ah, Leonido, when words are vain shall silence spell surrender?
T EODORO . Poor thought of mine, distraught by every wind, I laugh at your presumption, forgetting you are mine. Hold, stay! I bid you go and yet I call you back. If the intention be idle as the prize is great, how care I whence or whither, for imprudence is my undoing? Since expectation breeds my claim let reason feed it openly. I love my mistress, and I have warrant by these eyes. Tell them, hope, that diamond towers on no wisps of straw are builded. Then if I fail I blame my eyes, but, seeing her, how then are they to blame? No, no, poor hope, sprung from my soul to the height and pinnacle of love, here I stand below amazed, and tremble at your flight. When one is wronged, the wrong foregone justifies the aggressor, assuming itself the fault; so be you bold to justify your guilt, for though we both be lost ours is a common cause, since your ruin springs of me while I fall from your fond height, stone blinded. Go and ask not where, even facing death, for a brave fight is always victory. The victor's laurels ours, the praise be ours despite our loss, for such an overthrow converts the world henceforth to the worship of misfortune.
T RISTAN . If a letter from Marcella would help, here it is, inasmuch as forgetting her predicament she thinks only of you and waits outside, for I told her you were busy, that being the fashion at court. When a man becomes great his friends call at all hours, but let him lose what he has and they avoid him like the very plague and forget to call. I suggest we discourage the note by a bath.
T EODORO . Fool, the note has had more than a bath, transmitted through you. Give it to me.
" To my dear husband, Teodoro. " What is this? Her husband? Effrontery!
T RISTAN . Rather forward, I should suppose.
T EODORO . Having risen, must I now crush this butterfly?
T RISTAN . Read in your wisdom, for wine hatches mosquitoes. To-day Marcella seems a poor butterfly but I remember when she was a soaring eagle to you.
T EODORO . Mounting to the golden circlets of the sun, I plunge me down and marvel that I saw her.
T RISTAN . Well put, tersely; but how about the note?
T EODORO . Behold!
T RISTAN . You tear it up?
T EODORO . Thus.
T RISTAN . Why, master?
T EODORO . It is the most explicit answer.
T RISTAN . I call it most ungallant.
T EODORO . You are no judge. Watch me.
T RISTAN . No, you lovers are the very apothecaries of love, concocting notes and billets like the prescriptions they compound. Prescription for jealousy, blue violet water; prescription for disdain, borage to temper the blood and abate its rage; prescription for desertion, a mustard-plaster over the heart, which draws best, they say, in the city; prescription in case of matrimony, store of syrups and physic till cured with antimony, not before ten days; prescription for the signum celeste , which Capricornius dicetur , death to the patient unless, by the horn, he has the philosophy to combat laughter; prescription for abstracting goods and chattels from a shop, a couple of tablets slipped deftly into the clerk's pocket — to be continued for your profit at our leisure. As soon as the money is paid, tear up the prescription and the patient, God help him, lives or dies. But Marcella's account is closed already and the complaint lies unread on the floor.
T EODORO . Your wit is most foul to-day.
T RISTAN . You take high ground now you fly so high.
T EODORO . Tristan, fortune waits; to turn away is to have none, nor might I be Count of Belflor.
T RISTAN . Master, a duke named Caesar took " Caesar or nothing " for his motto once. The result was he made out so badly that a friend scribbled beneath it " Good! And that includes everything. They named you Caesar and they got nothing. "
T EODORO . Tristan, no! I challenge fortune, come what may.
D OROTEA . Since we have companioned so dearly, we no longer have secrets. We are sisters.
Marcella . You proved yourself, Dorotea, while I languished in the Countess' chamber. Anarda believes that I encourage Fabio, which is the reason she betrayed Teodoro to the Countess.
D OROTEA . Enviously. I see Teodoro — —
Marcella . Teodoro?
T EODORO . Caution, Marcella! Not so loud!
Marcella . I adore you openly and proclaim it everywhere.
T EODORO . Take care what you do! In palaces the very tapestries speak. Why are figures woven on them unless to warn us that bodies may be lurking behind? Seeing the king his father murdered, a deaf-mute cried out, since when we can well believe even pictures may shout.
Marcella . Did you read my letter?
T EODORO . No, I tore it up, having sacrificed enough for love. It condemns us both, and as for the letter you can retrieve the pieces from the floor.
Marcella . Are these my scattered words?
T EODORO . Marcella, the remains. Exactly.
Marcella . Do you flaunt me to my face?
T EODORO . Shielding you from disaster. If you are wise you will speak no word of this, nor refer to love nor write to me again.
Marcella . By your command?
T EODORO . I cannot further displease the Countess.
Marcella . Oh, this confirms my fears, seeing what I have seen.
T EODORO . God be with you, Marcella. We are friends and no more, discarding sentiment and false pretense.
Marcella . Teodoro, do you do this? Do you defy me, your Marcella?
T EODORO . In the name of decency, of common respect for the house in which I serve.
Marcella . He insults me.
T EODORO . Have your own way.
Marcella . Is this your reply to a lady?
T EODORO . A lady anticipates a reply.
Marcella . Tristan, Tristan!
T RISTAN . Yes, indeed! Well, well! Who spoke?
Marcella . What does this mean?
T RISTAN . A change of heart. Teodoro has mastered the ways of woman.
Marcella . Yes, what woman?
T RISTAN . Oh, one that is fair, a dispenser of milk and honey. Oh, oh!
Marcella . Go to him — —
T RISTAN . Am I so simple? Never! I am sheath to the sword, seal to the letter, box to the hat, the piece of felt that dulls the spur, a dark winter's day, a cryptic figure tripped by dancer's feet, a post-horse trotting off smartly, the tail to a comet, a wayward summer thunder-storm, the shadow of myself, and not to put it too thickly, my own finger-nail which, when it is cut off, no one can possibly say belongs to me.
Marcella . What do you make of this?
D OROTEA . Mostly nonsense, the reverse of sense.
Marcella . Yet he says he does not talk!
D OROTEA . He never stops.
Marcella . My Teodoro!
D OROTEA . Marcella, believe me, he was right, though, about the tapestries.
Marcella . Jealousy banishes fear. Were the Countess less proud I could believe that Teodoro aimed at her. Has he pined, brooding apart these many days for nothing?
D OROTEA . You are beside yourself with jealousy.
Marcella . I am not so gentle but that I shall take revenge. And I prepare the blow.
F ABIO . Have you seen the secretary?
Marcella . The secretary is no longer himself.
F ABIO . In God's name, my lady desires him in a flash.
Marcella . Fabio, desire him as she may, Dorotea be witness that this secretary, this Teodoro, is a complete imposter.
F ABIO . No doubt, Marcella, I agree. What tricks are these to-day?
Marcella . Cupid's quiver, Fabio.
F ABIO . Yes, I scent deception in the air.
Marcella . Fabio, I flattered Teodoro, taunting him, but I love only one, and that one a man made in your own image.
F ABIO . Now I mistrust myself. Hello! —
Marcella . You are twin brothers.
F ABIO . Twins, Marcella?
Marcella . Fabio, there is only one. You tempt, you madden me, your figure pleases, and I am yours, dear Fabio, or desire will kill me! The worst of deaths is an unrequited love.
F ABIO . Guileful but persuasive maiden, die and so restore the heart which you have taken from me. In jest or earnest, which?
D OROTEA . Fabio, ask no questions. Fortune smiles.
Marcella loves you and you know her true heart speaks.
F ABIO . If it be true I'll believe her truly, even though she speaks.
D OROTEA . Teodoro has released Marcella and to-day she plights her faith to you.
F ABIO . I run, Marcella. You are a love-letter addressed to Teodoro and delivered to me. I pardon the impropriety in the hope of more, for I am yours to the purpose, good or evil — your friend — freely.
D OROTEA . How could you, Marcella?
Marcella . I don't know where I am nor what I do.
Anarda loves Fabio — —
D OROTEA . But that is spite.
Marcella . Passion, vengeance, hate. Love is god of envy, god of hate!
D IANA . To A NARDA . In any case persistence becomes impertinence. Their suit wearies me.
A NARDA . They have given proof of rare devotion. — Is that Marcella with Dorotea? Yes ...
D IANA . Whispering? The wiles of woman. — Marcella, leave us. To your room! Be gone.
Marcella . I go, Dorotea.
Call this favor! Or is it jealousy?
A NARDA . Oh, for a magic word!
D IANA . Salve, salve my poor heart, Anarda.
A NARDA . Both noblemen are mad for love of you. You outdo the indifference of Anaxarete and the chastity of Lucrece. Love cannot reject so many — —
D IANA . I am surfeited with vanity and show.
A NARDA . Two princes among men! The Marquis Riccardo, as gallant as generous, equals or exceeds the best, nor was there ever maiden born too noble for your cousin, Federigo. Why despatch them in this frenzy of disdain?
D IANA . Because one is mad, the other a fool, and you, failing to distinguish, Anarda, more accomplished in folly than they. Though I love, I love neither, loving in despite of reason.
A NARDA . Then this is love's quandary.
D IANA . I am a woman all compact of love.
A NARDA . Yes, but refrigerated, so that the sun himself could shine all day and not warm you, either.
D IANA . Anarda, I melt, dissolve before a man, and no luminary.
A NARDA . Who is the man? Confess.
D IANA . Shame prevents me, conscious of my state — I cannot tell. Enough that he is one whose birth must cloud my honor.
A NARDA . Pasiphae loved a bull, Semiramis a horse, and other ladies various animals I shall not specify, for reasons of breeding. You may well love a man, whatever his rank or station.
D IANA . Ah, love is wayward and belies itself, appearing in monstrous shapes and forms, perversely. Or love may turn from love.
A NARDA . Yes, but what lover can?
D IANA . I can, loving when I will, for love dies the heart unwilling.
What is this fitful music?
A NARDA . Fabio with Clara, singing.
D IANA . Languid strain, sound again!
A NARDA . Sing on! Music and love blend in concord of desiring.
S ONG
Wither away,
Love in the heart?
Shall hate come in
And love depart?
Love in the heart
Can hate come in?
Whither away?
A NARDA . The song answers no. Love cannot hate.
D IANA . In the song. But in my heart I love and hate at pleasure.
A NARDA . You defy the rule of nature.
T EODORO . Signora, Fabio bids me seek you.
D IANA . Delay, why delay so long?
T EODORO . I come in haste, asking forgiveness for my insufficiency.
D IANA . Have you considered these gentlemen who address me hourly in the name of love? Speak truly.
T EODORO . I have observed them, lady, truly.
D IANA . Both are fair, of good report.
T EODORO . Of stately carriage, both.
D IANA . How choose? Which shall I accept? Advise me.
T EODORO . Lady, how can I advise when the decision must rest in your heart? I prefer as master the nobleman who yields his love unreservedly to you.
D IANA . Teodoro, choose, or betray my confidence in a decision of extreme, nay vital, import.
T EODORO . Lady, there are others with more experience than I. Ottavio, the majordomo, commands the wisdom of years and may counsel you accordingly.
D IANA . Ah, but the master must be supreme, loved alike by old and young, for he must be lord of all, throned in my people's hearts. Do you prefer the Marquis to my cousin? Speak.
T EODORO . The Count? I do — I do, in figure, lady.
D IANA . I elect the Marquis, then. Bear you the tidings to him instantly.
T EODORO . Why! How sudden! This is most unwelcome. Can she change so quickly? She deserts me. O sun, consume my flight, for you have shrivelled the daring plumes that offered at heaven's glory! Down, down, Belflor! Oh, how trust me to the uncertain seas of love? Can there be unequal love, alas? What wonder that her eyes deceived me when they would seduce even the sage Ulysses? I blame myself, yet why? How am I harmed? Some virus filled my mind, I dreamed delicious dreams. Poor heart, in fancy only deck thyself in the proud trappings of Belflor! Turn hence thy gaze, descend upon the old familiar strand, Marcella, gentle Marcella, affection's daughter! Love joins equals only. Vain imaginings, air-born, to air return, for those fall who rise above their state, fondly, without deserving.
F ABIO . Did you find my lady?
T EODORO . I spoke with her, Fabio, to my great content, for the Countess yields to marriage. She has chosen the chief among her suitors, rightly fixing on the Marquis.
F ABIO . She hits the mark there.
T EODORO . I am deputed messenger to bear the news, but, Fabio, I cede the privilege to you. Go, for the reward will not be slight.
F ABIO . I fly in a receptive spirit, thanks again to you. The Marquis may congratulate himself for it was no small achievement to subdue the Countess.
T RISTAN . I'm half a man if what I hear is true.
T EODORO . Tristan, it is, it is. Collapse, my house of cards!
T RISTAN . Teodoro, I have seen the pair many a time seated in two arm-chairs like two sticks, cajoling Diana, but that she had a fancy for one, or that it was possible, no, no, I would have laid twenty oaths against it.
T EODORO . Tristan, this fair, fickle sunflower, this nimble weathervane, this prismatic glass, this river rolling to the sea, tossed back by every tide, this Diana touched with moonlight, this woman all enchantment, this prodigy of instability, who willed my undoing to grace her victory, just now, this moment past, bade me say which of these noblemen to choose, for she will marry upon my pleasure! I stood stock-still, dying. Had I raved it had been the voice of reason. So she decided in favor of the Marquis, and I was to inform him, delicious privilege, as my reward.
T RISTAN . So she has chosen a husband, has she, honestly?
T EODORO . The Marquis Riccardo.
T RISTAN . Oh, she wants to bring you to, not to heap affliction on you, so she relieves you now of that unnecessary importance, the result of aspiring to be Count.
T EODORO . Who aspires, expires, Tristan.
T RISTAN . A fool's a fool, I agree to that.
T EODORO . He is, and include the race of women. Never trust one, either.
T RISTAN . Teodoro, there is no poison like a woman's eye.
T EODORO . Correct. I gazed, Tristan, and wondered, but then awoke, and here I bury my love in an unmarked grave.
T RISTAN . I shed tears. Shall I summon Marcella?
T EODORO . She is a forgiving angel.
Marcella . Can love be feigned when love has flown the heart?
True love cannot forget as droops the year,
The mind may rove, above, below, far, near,
Yet memory remains to play his part.
Though still we suffer, still we bear the smart,
Love's remedy will presently appear
And love cure love with new love doubly dear,
For love is born of passion, sired with art.
But no! For who can love when loving still?
In love to love another how be bold?
Revenge, alas, were thus a double ill.
Be constant, love, to new gods be not sold!
Love in the heart, by jealousy turned chill,
Lives as the old love, to burgeon manifold.
T EODORO . Marcella — —
Marcella . Ah! Who?
T EODORO . I, Marcella. You have not forgotten me — —
Marcella . I have forgotten you so completely that I am not myself save thinking of you, for then I hate, and to refrain I constrain my soul, which hates and hates. Do you dare speak to me? Do your lips form my name?
T EODORO . I try your constancy which vanishes before the trial. Your attentions have found my successor, as I hear.
Marcella . Teodoro, never tempt the strength of woman nor test glass. But this was no proof. I know you, Teodoro, dreams of gold! Does she reject your suit? Love at what cost? The mere perception of beauty is itself a pleasure. Come! Speak! Blush not, Teodoro — say a storm drives you to me, a great way down. Do you jest, bringing me hope, Teodoro, this happy day?
T EODORO . You are avenged, Marcella, wholly. As love is noble, be kind, nor slay me. I am yours, Marcella, having failed. Pardon repentance, not because the quest was vain but for that despair turned to memory, waking the old love to be transformed to new-born victory.
Marcella . Who would say a lover nay? Sue, be bold, nor suffer doubt, never surrender, bravely pursue your goal as I shall mine. I love Fabio, Teodoro, so fare you well, or as you may. God knows your treachery, than which I say no more except to Fabio, for we are to be man and wife.
T EODORO . Wife? — Tristan, she forsakes me.
T RISTAN . Signora, signora, to stop having loved you is only to begin all over again! This is an apology if ever there was one. Marcella, stay!
Marcella . He insults me, Tristan.
T RISTAN . Stay! Listen! Who can say?
D IANA . Ah, Teodoro and Marcella?
A NARDA . An encounter to the point!
D IANA . Step behind this arras hastily.
Jealousy rein love!
Marcella . Tristan, let me go. Away!
A NARDA . To D IANA . Tristan is the go-between.
D IANA . The pander who blinds my sight.
T RISTAN . The dumb beauty of the Countess, who worships him, dazzled him momentarily. He despises her gold as dross beside your beauty. Love, like the comet, struck him and has fled. — Say it did, Teodoro.
D IANA . Immortal liar!
T EODORO . If Marcella loves Fabio, hope is vain, Tristan.
T RISTAN . So you need encouragement also? Advance!
T EODORO . He has promised her marriage.
T RISTAN . He believes what she says. — Here! Get out!
Give me your hand and make up instantly.
T EODORO . Knave, what would you?
T RISTAN . Signor, do it for me. Where is your hand?
T EODORO . How can Marcella say I loved another? It was she, she!
T RISTAN . Oh, you are simple and she plays you cunningly.
Marcella . My wrongs complain to heaven.
T RISTAN . Sh, he'll believe you! Hearten him.
Courage, sir! Here's a pretty how do you do.
T EODORO . I kneeled to her! God knows I can do no more.
Marcella . He leaves me.
T RISTAN . No! Not that either — —
Marcella To T RISTAN . I die with love yet linger here.
T RISTAN . Master, forward! Courage!
D IANA . Devil of a lackey! How does he know so much?
Marcella . Tristan, I depart.
T EODORO . Tristan, let her go.
T RISTAN . Well, then, I obey. No hope —
T EODORO . Stop her.
Marcella . I vanish proudly.
T RISTAN . Both stand their ground and require no stopping.
Marcella . Dear heart, I cannot go!
T EODORO . Nor I, for love is firm as the rocky islands of the sea.
Marcella . Come to my arms!
T EODORO . I fly!
T RISTAN . If this was prearranged, why, I had all my work for nothing! They stay.
A NARDA . To D IANA . Revolting!
D IANA . Trust a man with a woman!
T EODORO . How your words wounded me!
T RISTAN . That embrace was satisfactory, and as a third party, too, it is all I am likely to get.
Marcella . If I ever exchange your love for the world, or for Fabio's, my beloved, give me death!
T EODORO . Marcella, young love is born to-day. If I slight you, heaven punish me with the happiness of Fabio!
Marcella . You must renounce your infidelities, my dear, every one.
T EODORO . Rather bid me conquer kingdoms.
Marcella . Will you swear that all women are unattractive beside me, and hideous as well?
T EODORO . Beside you they are. Obviously.
Marcella . Since we belong to each other, love, do we need Tristan standing by?
T RISTAN . Yes, but objecting to me is like protesting at yourselves.
Marcella . Swear the Countess is a scullion and a jade.
T EODORO . Worse than that, she is the devil.
Marcella . And an ass to boot?
T EODORO . At both ends.
Marcella . A prig, too?
T EODORO . A bore.
D IANA . To A NARDA . This has gone far enough! Have I chills or do I burn?
A NARDA . Lady, they know not what they say.
T RISTAN . If you think you can describe the Countess, just listen to me.
D IANA . What will he do? No, no — —
T RISTAN . First, to begin — —
D IANA . There will be no second for this fool. Appear!
Marcella . Teodoro, fly!
T RISTAN . The Countess!
T EODORO . The Countess!
D IANA . Did I surprise you, Teodoro?
T EODORO . Signora!
T RISTAN . Thunder crashes, and forked lightning makes me run!
D IANA . A pen, Anarda. Teodoro will take a letter that has been forming in my mind.
T EODORO . I have outstepped assurance.
D IANA . Love, open his eyes! I excel Marcella bodily, yet he loves her and my people laugh. They laugh!
T EODORO . She does not look, she does not speak. True, tapestries have ears and palace walls have tongues.
A NARDA . Here is the smaller desk to write upon.
D IANA . Your pen, Teodoro.
T EODORO . Countess!
Death or banishment?
D IANA . Nay, write.
T EODORO . Begin.
D IANA . With one knee upon the ground? A pillow, Anarda.
T EODORO . I rest easily.
D IANA . A pillow, Anarda!
T EODORO . An evil omen. Men kneel to executioners.
Will you begin?
D IANA . Mark well as you write.
T EODORO . There is no mercy.
D IANA . When a noble lady declares herself to a commoner, that man may not approach another. Those who are blind to fortune see themselves as fools.
T EODORO . As fools, my lady. No more?
D IANA . No more. Seal the letter, Teodoro.
A NARDA . Lady, what is this?
D IANA . Love's folly.
A NARDA . Love of whom?
D IANA . Oh, to be deaf and never hear, for in my house the stones shout!
T EODORO . The letter is not yet addressed, though sealed.
D IANA . Deliver it, Teodoro, and never a word to Marcella. God grant you comprehension as you read!
T EODORO . She goes! Oh, this woman loves, but intermittently, as one who bleeds and the pulse wavers!
Marcella . Are we banished? Poison? I trembled behind the portal.
T EODORO . Marcella, she gives you to Fabio, and dictated this letter to your home inquiring as to the dowry. Nothing else.
Marcella . Now heaven forbid!
T EODORO . May you prosper, and when you are a wife, never mention my name again, in jest, reproof or praise.
Marcella . I can't believe it.
T EODORO . What is done is done. Here is the letter.
Fare you well.
Marcella . Am I in love with change, a phantom? She has bewitched him. He is like a bucket that, going down, the water fills, coming up to be emptied over and over. Foolish Teodoro, slave of greatness! She smiles, you smile on her; she frowns, you sigh to me. A light head tries all patience.
R ICCARDO . Fabio, I might not stay, hastening to avow in joyance my everlasting fealty.
F ABIO . Marcella, advise my lady that our lord the Marquis waits.
Marcella . Jealousy, is this some new legend of misfortune?
F ABIO . The Marquis waits.
Marcella . I go.
F ABIO . Our lord and master.
R ICCARDO . To-morrow, Fabio, accept a thousand pounds at my palace, to which upon occasion I shall add a Neapolitan horse of purest breed.
F ABIO . I rejoice beyond all gratitude.
R ICCARDO . Though you serve Diana henceforth count yourself my friend.
F ABIO . I prostrate myself in joy.
R ICCARDO . Augmenting still my debt.
D IANA . I greet Your Excellency with smiles.
R ICCARDO . Summoned by Fabio, I cast myself at your feet in divine ecstacy. Duty and pleasure vie, dowering my passion with an ardor that would be presumption in any save a husband, master of the heart. I neither deserve you, lady, no, nor deserve even to desire you. But you are supremely mine!
D IANA . What is this? I am too amazed to speak. Who summoned you? Who makes mock of my name?
R ICCARDO . Mock? Fabio — —
F ABIO . I ran with the news, despatched by Teodoro.
D IANA . Ah, Riccardo, my secretary is to blame! I praised your person beyond my cousin Federigo's, slighting his bearing, and Teodoro transformed my idle words to oaths. Excellency, pardon! These dull fools lack wit or true perception.
R ICCARDO . Fabio is pardoned in your presence for a lack-wit, nowhere else. Spare us these empty vaunts, which are the antidote to love!
D IANA . This was your doing, knave.
F ABIO . Signora, forgive me. Pardon.
D IANA . Summon Teodoro.
Shall popinjays leer while I die of love?
F ABIO . Off trots the horse with the thousand crowns!
D IANA . What would you, love? Now, now my heart was free
Of Teodoro. Still must you complain?
But you reply that love can thrive on pain
And live a ghostly shadow, mocking me.
Ah, teach me not the wiles of jealousy
For all the ardors of her arts are vain,
And from her love shall never woman gain
Trophies of honor to win constancy.
I love a man too well, yet well I know
I am the sea and he the tossing bark —
Down to the depths which is the one to go?
Love puts to sea and arms the fragile ark
While honor leaps to grasp the bended bow
And snap the string, ere arrow find the mark!
F ABIO . The Marquis would have run me through at mention of the thousand crowns.
T EODORO . Nay, nay, persist, Fabio. Shift, temper the attack.
F ABIO . Am I mad?
T EODORO . The Marquis's good fortune infuriates the Count. Run to him with word of this reverse and it nets you another thousand.
F ABIO . I believe it does and am there already.
T EODORO . Run!
T EODORO . A hopeful creature. — Lady!
D IANA . The fool had the grace to go.
T EODORO . Lady, I have studied your note with understanding. The heart of service is respect, yet I am at fault to hesitate or delay, for which reason I here confess my passion, all love and worship, and stand trembling at the image of my temerity.
D IANA . Teodoro, you forget yourself. Clearly, your duty is to love me, and well you may, for I have favored you above all others in my house. But to presume — —
T EODORO . This is the language of command.
D IANA . Teodoro, press not beyond the bound. Your place is here. A noble lady, looking upon you, brightens your base birth by the refulgence of her gleam, which remains the solace of your poor, dull life.
T EODORO . Lady, pardon if, baffled, I have presumed. Why grant me hope, dashing me down so rudely that I fall ill, lying an entire month helpless? I cool and you flame in beauty. I burn and you congeal as ice. Leave me to Marcella, for this is the tale of the gardener's dog. I may not marry her, yet, abstaining, you abstain from me, and in the joy of my dream bid me wake. Lady, choose or refuse, for I can no longer endure these contraries, and from this moment I shall love where there is hope of reward.
D IANA . Teodoro, forget Marcella and learn wisdom. Choose a mistress, so it be not she.
T EODORO . Lady, Marcella loves me and I love her, in perfect faith. My heart is my own, and follows where love leads. Adoring Marcella, she worships me in truth and constancy.
D IANA . Indecent strumpet! I will behead you both.
T EODORO . Excellency!
D IANA . Filthy lackey, have it in the face!
F ABIO . A moment! Step back — —
F EDERIGO . Ah, Fabio! It is too late — I fear that we intrude.
Gentle greetings, fairest lady.
D IANA . Oh, I was speaking with my secretary.
F EDERIGO . Conferring? Advisedly.
D IANA . You are very welcome.
F EDERIGO . Nay, I presume, unannounced — —
D IANA . Federigo, I have indulged a sportive humor since I was a child. Come, and we will laugh over the poor Marquis.
F EDERIGO . Fabio — —
F ABIO . Signor?
F EDERIGO . This melody suggests a theme.
F ABIO . In God's name, Count, I marvel at this abuse of Teodoro. The Countess showers him with her favor.
F EDERIGO . He has flushed a noble red.
T EODORO . If this be aught but love, what can love be?
What other name shall cover fierce desire?
Can ladies love like this and thus take fire,
Incarnate furies, vowed to mastery?
If place give title to rank tyranny,
And gentle blood dip freely in the mire,
Why then turn from me, condemn me to expire
In torment, victim of foul battery?
Oh blessed hand incontinent to slay,
Who, who shall kiss the beauty of your rose
And whisper thanks throughout the grateful day?
I had not thought that love could pain impose.
In cruelty, mayhap, she seeks a way
To touch me to the quick? My lady knows.
T RISTAN . Am I a coward? I always arrive too late.
T EODORO . Tristan, Tristan! Leave me.
T RISTAN . What is this, sir? Blood?
T EODORO . Blood? Jealousy writes love in crimson characters.
T RISTAN . Sweet Savior, but it employs a beastly ink!
T EODORO . No harm is done. Mad, enraged at her own desire, she assails my face where her shame is reflected, leaving it frightful.
T RISTAN . Master, if Lucia or Giovanna quarrel with me and scratch me an endearment, clawing me or hauling my hair out because I've played them a trick falsely, they are light women with heavy stockings and a friar's leaden shoes, but a noble lady debases herself raging thus vilely.
T EODORO . Ah, Tristan, she adores and hates me. She will not have me, she will not yield me to Marcella. I come, she goes. She is the gardener's dog which will neither eat nor permit others to do so, nor is in nor is out nor is neither.
T RISTAN . A professor-doctor who was thought very well of, had a boy who could never agree with his housekeeper. They fought at dinner, they fought at supper, the poor man could not sleep in his house, there was no peace nor quiet, till one day he came home from a class suddenly and found the pair in bed together. " Thank God, " he said, " they get on somewhere. " May He preserve you from a like calamity.
D IANA . Teodoro! Teodoro!
T EODORO . Lady?
T RISTAN . She surprises us at the improper moment!
D IANA . Are you hurt, Teodoro?
T EODORO . As you see.
D IANA . Did I hurt you?
T EODORO . Hurt me?
D IANA . You could reply more gently.
T EODORO . I cannot do more, tried as I am, alas — harried!
D IANA . My sweet hero!
T EODORO . Poor, abused, distressed! Words fly, blows fall; I go, you call me back; I stay, you strike me. I forget, you write; I remember, you forget. You would have me follow the hint to play the fool, always, everywhere, eternally, but no! I will live and die, I will have an end of these extremities!
D IANA . Did I draw blood, Teodoro? Oh ...
T EODORO . Oh?
D IANA . Lend me a handkerchief.
T EODORO . No — —
D IANA . Give it to me. There, there ...
T EODORO . But you take it?
D IANA . Yes, to keep. Ottavio will give you two thousand crowns, Teodoro.
T EODORO . Ottavio will?
D IANA . To buy handkerchiefs.
T EODORO . Oh, woman, woman!
T RISTAN . Woman, what a wooing!
T EODORO . Two thousand crowns?
T RISTAN . She can hit me all day for another two.
T EODORO . She took my handkerchief and they will buy others.
T RISTAN . But this was blooded. Evidently she intends to take good care of your nose.
T EODORO . Tristan, dogs fawn after they bite.
T RISTAN . Remember the doctor's housekeeper! But you haven't the crowns yet — —
T EODORO . No, God forbid!
L EONIDO . Footing like dawn over the meadow, flecking the soft carpet with light; nor should devotion detain her long, for the priest has the wit to be brief.
F EDERIGO . Shall I accost her?
L EONIDO . Being her cousin, you cannot very well refrain.
F EDERIGO . Leonido, love prevails over kinship, though timidity be the child of love. A gentleman may visit a lady freely, a relative or a friend, so there be no further purpose, but let love enter in, though concealed, and he turns shy, fearing to speak or even to appear. Thus my suit bars me from the Countess, my cousin, till I languish an exile, desolate, since all my joy was to see her daily.
C ELIO . She comes afoot, attended.
R ICCARDO . The church being opposite we may admire her beauty as she illuminates the street.
C ELIO . Have you seen the sun on a bright morning rise in the east with his golden beams, gilding the pallid bull that pastures in the crimson celestial fields? — for so they look in the early morning, the poets tell us. Well, who outdoes two suns in beauty and perfection but the loveliest Diana, Countess of Belflor?
R ICCARDO . If I am a lover you are a painter, at least in the morning early. She is a sun, and we signs in the zodiac of her glory. Is that Count Federigo, posted where he expects a ray to fall?
C ELIO . Which of you is the pallid bull ready to be gilded?
R ICCARDO . He, being first, preimpts the dignity. As a later entrant, I shall enlist under the lion.
F EDERIGO . To L EONIDO . Is that Riccardo?
L EONIDO . The Marquis.
F EDERIGO . It were a marvel did he fail at the church.
L EONIDO . How smartly he is beribboned for worship!
F EDERIGO . Leonido, I, not you, should be jealous. Peace, prithee, peace!
L EONIDO . Jealous? I?
F EDERIGO . I am jealous even of your praise.
L EONIDO . But Diana will have neither of you, which I take it eliminates the jealousy.
F EDERIGO . She is a woman, and of necessity inclines to love.
L EONIDO . But she is vain, proud and then disdainful, which again is assurance to you both.
F EDERIGO . Ah, beauty has title to be proud!
L EONIDO . There's not much beauty in ingratitude, however.
C ELIO . To R ICCARDO . Diana comes, my lord.
R ICCARDO . Day breaks! Night flees.
C ELIO . Shall we speak?
R ICCARDO . The Count anticipates us — —
F EDERIGO . To D IANA . Desire has chained me to this pillar in your eternal service.
D IANA . Count, welcome support a thousand times!
R ICCARDO . Coming forward. Lady, with all good will now and ever must I adore and guard you.
D IANA . Marquis, here is double happiness, redoubled grace.
R ICCARDO . Lady, favor is born of love.
F EDERIGO . To L EONIDO . Her speech was short, her mien abrupt.
L EONIDO . Count, have courage! Follow her.
F EDERIGO . Ah, Leonido, when words are vain shall silence spell surrender?
T EODORO . Poor thought of mine, distraught by every wind, I laugh at your presumption, forgetting you are mine. Hold, stay! I bid you go and yet I call you back. If the intention be idle as the prize is great, how care I whence or whither, for imprudence is my undoing? Since expectation breeds my claim let reason feed it openly. I love my mistress, and I have warrant by these eyes. Tell them, hope, that diamond towers on no wisps of straw are builded. Then if I fail I blame my eyes, but, seeing her, how then are they to blame? No, no, poor hope, sprung from my soul to the height and pinnacle of love, here I stand below amazed, and tremble at your flight. When one is wronged, the wrong foregone justifies the aggressor, assuming itself the fault; so be you bold to justify your guilt, for though we both be lost ours is a common cause, since your ruin springs of me while I fall from your fond height, stone blinded. Go and ask not where, even facing death, for a brave fight is always victory. The victor's laurels ours, the praise be ours despite our loss, for such an overthrow converts the world henceforth to the worship of misfortune.
T RISTAN . If a letter from Marcella would help, here it is, inasmuch as forgetting her predicament she thinks only of you and waits outside, for I told her you were busy, that being the fashion at court. When a man becomes great his friends call at all hours, but let him lose what he has and they avoid him like the very plague and forget to call. I suggest we discourage the note by a bath.
T EODORO . Fool, the note has had more than a bath, transmitted through you. Give it to me.
" To my dear husband, Teodoro. " What is this? Her husband? Effrontery!
T RISTAN . Rather forward, I should suppose.
T EODORO . Having risen, must I now crush this butterfly?
T RISTAN . Read in your wisdom, for wine hatches mosquitoes. To-day Marcella seems a poor butterfly but I remember when she was a soaring eagle to you.
T EODORO . Mounting to the golden circlets of the sun, I plunge me down and marvel that I saw her.
T RISTAN . Well put, tersely; but how about the note?
T EODORO . Behold!
T RISTAN . You tear it up?
T EODORO . Thus.
T RISTAN . Why, master?
T EODORO . It is the most explicit answer.
T RISTAN . I call it most ungallant.
T EODORO . You are no judge. Watch me.
T RISTAN . No, you lovers are the very apothecaries of love, concocting notes and billets like the prescriptions they compound. Prescription for jealousy, blue violet water; prescription for disdain, borage to temper the blood and abate its rage; prescription for desertion, a mustard-plaster over the heart, which draws best, they say, in the city; prescription in case of matrimony, store of syrups and physic till cured with antimony, not before ten days; prescription for the signum celeste , which Capricornius dicetur , death to the patient unless, by the horn, he has the philosophy to combat laughter; prescription for abstracting goods and chattels from a shop, a couple of tablets slipped deftly into the clerk's pocket — to be continued for your profit at our leisure. As soon as the money is paid, tear up the prescription and the patient, God help him, lives or dies. But Marcella's account is closed already and the complaint lies unread on the floor.
T EODORO . Your wit is most foul to-day.
T RISTAN . You take high ground now you fly so high.
T EODORO . Tristan, fortune waits; to turn away is to have none, nor might I be Count of Belflor.
T RISTAN . Master, a duke named Caesar took " Caesar or nothing " for his motto once. The result was he made out so badly that a friend scribbled beneath it " Good! And that includes everything. They named you Caesar and they got nothing. "
T EODORO . Tristan, no! I challenge fortune, come what may.
D OROTEA . Since we have companioned so dearly, we no longer have secrets. We are sisters.
Marcella . You proved yourself, Dorotea, while I languished in the Countess' chamber. Anarda believes that I encourage Fabio, which is the reason she betrayed Teodoro to the Countess.
D OROTEA . Enviously. I see Teodoro — —
Marcella . Teodoro?
T EODORO . Caution, Marcella! Not so loud!
Marcella . I adore you openly and proclaim it everywhere.
T EODORO . Take care what you do! In palaces the very tapestries speak. Why are figures woven on them unless to warn us that bodies may be lurking behind? Seeing the king his father murdered, a deaf-mute cried out, since when we can well believe even pictures may shout.
Marcella . Did you read my letter?
T EODORO . No, I tore it up, having sacrificed enough for love. It condemns us both, and as for the letter you can retrieve the pieces from the floor.
Marcella . Are these my scattered words?
T EODORO . Marcella, the remains. Exactly.
Marcella . Do you flaunt me to my face?
T EODORO . Shielding you from disaster. If you are wise you will speak no word of this, nor refer to love nor write to me again.
Marcella . By your command?
T EODORO . I cannot further displease the Countess.
Marcella . Oh, this confirms my fears, seeing what I have seen.
T EODORO . God be with you, Marcella. We are friends and no more, discarding sentiment and false pretense.
Marcella . Teodoro, do you do this? Do you defy me, your Marcella?
T EODORO . In the name of decency, of common respect for the house in which I serve.
Marcella . He insults me.
T EODORO . Have your own way.
Marcella . Is this your reply to a lady?
T EODORO . A lady anticipates a reply.
Marcella . Tristan, Tristan!
T RISTAN . Yes, indeed! Well, well! Who spoke?
Marcella . What does this mean?
T RISTAN . A change of heart. Teodoro has mastered the ways of woman.
Marcella . Yes, what woman?
T RISTAN . Oh, one that is fair, a dispenser of milk and honey. Oh, oh!
Marcella . Go to him — —
T RISTAN . Am I so simple? Never! I am sheath to the sword, seal to the letter, box to the hat, the piece of felt that dulls the spur, a dark winter's day, a cryptic figure tripped by dancer's feet, a post-horse trotting off smartly, the tail to a comet, a wayward summer thunder-storm, the shadow of myself, and not to put it too thickly, my own finger-nail which, when it is cut off, no one can possibly say belongs to me.
Marcella . What do you make of this?
D OROTEA . Mostly nonsense, the reverse of sense.
Marcella . Yet he says he does not talk!
D OROTEA . He never stops.
Marcella . My Teodoro!
D OROTEA . Marcella, believe me, he was right, though, about the tapestries.
Marcella . Jealousy banishes fear. Were the Countess less proud I could believe that Teodoro aimed at her. Has he pined, brooding apart these many days for nothing?
D OROTEA . You are beside yourself with jealousy.
Marcella . I am not so gentle but that I shall take revenge. And I prepare the blow.
F ABIO . Have you seen the secretary?
Marcella . The secretary is no longer himself.
F ABIO . In God's name, my lady desires him in a flash.
Marcella . Fabio, desire him as she may, Dorotea be witness that this secretary, this Teodoro, is a complete imposter.
F ABIO . No doubt, Marcella, I agree. What tricks are these to-day?
Marcella . Cupid's quiver, Fabio.
F ABIO . Yes, I scent deception in the air.
Marcella . Fabio, I flattered Teodoro, taunting him, but I love only one, and that one a man made in your own image.
F ABIO . Now I mistrust myself. Hello! —
Marcella . You are twin brothers.
F ABIO . Twins, Marcella?
Marcella . Fabio, there is only one. You tempt, you madden me, your figure pleases, and I am yours, dear Fabio, or desire will kill me! The worst of deaths is an unrequited love.
F ABIO . Guileful but persuasive maiden, die and so restore the heart which you have taken from me. In jest or earnest, which?
D OROTEA . Fabio, ask no questions. Fortune smiles.
Marcella loves you and you know her true heart speaks.
F ABIO . If it be true I'll believe her truly, even though she speaks.
D OROTEA . Teodoro has released Marcella and to-day she plights her faith to you.
F ABIO . I run, Marcella. You are a love-letter addressed to Teodoro and delivered to me. I pardon the impropriety in the hope of more, for I am yours to the purpose, good or evil — your friend — freely.
D OROTEA . How could you, Marcella?
Marcella . I don't know where I am nor what I do.
Anarda loves Fabio — —
D OROTEA . But that is spite.
Marcella . Passion, vengeance, hate. Love is god of envy, god of hate!
D IANA . To A NARDA . In any case persistence becomes impertinence. Their suit wearies me.
A NARDA . They have given proof of rare devotion. — Is that Marcella with Dorotea? Yes ...
D IANA . Whispering? The wiles of woman. — Marcella, leave us. To your room! Be gone.
Marcella . I go, Dorotea.
Call this favor! Or is it jealousy?
A NARDA . Oh, for a magic word!
D IANA . Salve, salve my poor heart, Anarda.
A NARDA . Both noblemen are mad for love of you. You outdo the indifference of Anaxarete and the chastity of Lucrece. Love cannot reject so many — —
D IANA . I am surfeited with vanity and show.
A NARDA . Two princes among men! The Marquis Riccardo, as gallant as generous, equals or exceeds the best, nor was there ever maiden born too noble for your cousin, Federigo. Why despatch them in this frenzy of disdain?
D IANA . Because one is mad, the other a fool, and you, failing to distinguish, Anarda, more accomplished in folly than they. Though I love, I love neither, loving in despite of reason.
A NARDA . Then this is love's quandary.
D IANA . I am a woman all compact of love.
A NARDA . Yes, but refrigerated, so that the sun himself could shine all day and not warm you, either.
D IANA . Anarda, I melt, dissolve before a man, and no luminary.
A NARDA . Who is the man? Confess.
D IANA . Shame prevents me, conscious of my state — I cannot tell. Enough that he is one whose birth must cloud my honor.
A NARDA . Pasiphae loved a bull, Semiramis a horse, and other ladies various animals I shall not specify, for reasons of breeding. You may well love a man, whatever his rank or station.
D IANA . Ah, love is wayward and belies itself, appearing in monstrous shapes and forms, perversely. Or love may turn from love.
A NARDA . Yes, but what lover can?
D IANA . I can, loving when I will, for love dies the heart unwilling.
What is this fitful music?
A NARDA . Fabio with Clara, singing.
D IANA . Languid strain, sound again!
A NARDA . Sing on! Music and love blend in concord of desiring.
S ONG
Wither away,
Love in the heart?
Shall hate come in
And love depart?
Love in the heart
Can hate come in?
Whither away?
A NARDA . The song answers no. Love cannot hate.
D IANA . In the song. But in my heart I love and hate at pleasure.
A NARDA . You defy the rule of nature.
T EODORO . Signora, Fabio bids me seek you.
D IANA . Delay, why delay so long?
T EODORO . I come in haste, asking forgiveness for my insufficiency.
D IANA . Have you considered these gentlemen who address me hourly in the name of love? Speak truly.
T EODORO . I have observed them, lady, truly.
D IANA . Both are fair, of good report.
T EODORO . Of stately carriage, both.
D IANA . How choose? Which shall I accept? Advise me.
T EODORO . Lady, how can I advise when the decision must rest in your heart? I prefer as master the nobleman who yields his love unreservedly to you.
D IANA . Teodoro, choose, or betray my confidence in a decision of extreme, nay vital, import.
T EODORO . Lady, there are others with more experience than I. Ottavio, the majordomo, commands the wisdom of years and may counsel you accordingly.
D IANA . Ah, but the master must be supreme, loved alike by old and young, for he must be lord of all, throned in my people's hearts. Do you prefer the Marquis to my cousin? Speak.
T EODORO . The Count? I do — I do, in figure, lady.
D IANA . I elect the Marquis, then. Bear you the tidings to him instantly.
T EODORO . Why! How sudden! This is most unwelcome. Can she change so quickly? She deserts me. O sun, consume my flight, for you have shrivelled the daring plumes that offered at heaven's glory! Down, down, Belflor! Oh, how trust me to the uncertain seas of love? Can there be unequal love, alas? What wonder that her eyes deceived me when they would seduce even the sage Ulysses? I blame myself, yet why? How am I harmed? Some virus filled my mind, I dreamed delicious dreams. Poor heart, in fancy only deck thyself in the proud trappings of Belflor! Turn hence thy gaze, descend upon the old familiar strand, Marcella, gentle Marcella, affection's daughter! Love joins equals only. Vain imaginings, air-born, to air return, for those fall who rise above their state, fondly, without deserving.
F ABIO . Did you find my lady?
T EODORO . I spoke with her, Fabio, to my great content, for the Countess yields to marriage. She has chosen the chief among her suitors, rightly fixing on the Marquis.
F ABIO . She hits the mark there.
T EODORO . I am deputed messenger to bear the news, but, Fabio, I cede the privilege to you. Go, for the reward will not be slight.
F ABIO . I fly in a receptive spirit, thanks again to you. The Marquis may congratulate himself for it was no small achievement to subdue the Countess.
T RISTAN . I'm half a man if what I hear is true.
T EODORO . Tristan, it is, it is. Collapse, my house of cards!
T RISTAN . Teodoro, I have seen the pair many a time seated in two arm-chairs like two sticks, cajoling Diana, but that she had a fancy for one, or that it was possible, no, no, I would have laid twenty oaths against it.
T EODORO . Tristan, this fair, fickle sunflower, this nimble weathervane, this prismatic glass, this river rolling to the sea, tossed back by every tide, this Diana touched with moonlight, this woman all enchantment, this prodigy of instability, who willed my undoing to grace her victory, just now, this moment past, bade me say which of these noblemen to choose, for she will marry upon my pleasure! I stood stock-still, dying. Had I raved it had been the voice of reason. So she decided in favor of the Marquis, and I was to inform him, delicious privilege, as my reward.
T RISTAN . So she has chosen a husband, has she, honestly?
T EODORO . The Marquis Riccardo.
T RISTAN . Oh, she wants to bring you to, not to heap affliction on you, so she relieves you now of that unnecessary importance, the result of aspiring to be Count.
T EODORO . Who aspires, expires, Tristan.
T RISTAN . A fool's a fool, I agree to that.
T EODORO . He is, and include the race of women. Never trust one, either.
T RISTAN . Teodoro, there is no poison like a woman's eye.
T EODORO . Correct. I gazed, Tristan, and wondered, but then awoke, and here I bury my love in an unmarked grave.
T RISTAN . I shed tears. Shall I summon Marcella?
T EODORO . She is a forgiving angel.
Marcella . Can love be feigned when love has flown the heart?
True love cannot forget as droops the year,
The mind may rove, above, below, far, near,
Yet memory remains to play his part.
Though still we suffer, still we bear the smart,
Love's remedy will presently appear
And love cure love with new love doubly dear,
For love is born of passion, sired with art.
But no! For who can love when loving still?
In love to love another how be bold?
Revenge, alas, were thus a double ill.
Be constant, love, to new gods be not sold!
Love in the heart, by jealousy turned chill,
Lives as the old love, to burgeon manifold.
T EODORO . Marcella — —
Marcella . Ah! Who?
T EODORO . I, Marcella. You have not forgotten me — —
Marcella . I have forgotten you so completely that I am not myself save thinking of you, for then I hate, and to refrain I constrain my soul, which hates and hates. Do you dare speak to me? Do your lips form my name?
T EODORO . I try your constancy which vanishes before the trial. Your attentions have found my successor, as I hear.
Marcella . Teodoro, never tempt the strength of woman nor test glass. But this was no proof. I know you, Teodoro, dreams of gold! Does she reject your suit? Love at what cost? The mere perception of beauty is itself a pleasure. Come! Speak! Blush not, Teodoro — say a storm drives you to me, a great way down. Do you jest, bringing me hope, Teodoro, this happy day?
T EODORO . You are avenged, Marcella, wholly. As love is noble, be kind, nor slay me. I am yours, Marcella, having failed. Pardon repentance, not because the quest was vain but for that despair turned to memory, waking the old love to be transformed to new-born victory.
Marcella . Who would say a lover nay? Sue, be bold, nor suffer doubt, never surrender, bravely pursue your goal as I shall mine. I love Fabio, Teodoro, so fare you well, or as you may. God knows your treachery, than which I say no more except to Fabio, for we are to be man and wife.
T EODORO . Wife? — Tristan, she forsakes me.
T RISTAN . Signora, signora, to stop having loved you is only to begin all over again! This is an apology if ever there was one. Marcella, stay!
Marcella . He insults me, Tristan.
T RISTAN . Stay! Listen! Who can say?
D IANA . Ah, Teodoro and Marcella?
A NARDA . An encounter to the point!
D IANA . Step behind this arras hastily.
Jealousy rein love!
Marcella . Tristan, let me go. Away!
A NARDA . To D IANA . Tristan is the go-between.
D IANA . The pander who blinds my sight.
T RISTAN . The dumb beauty of the Countess, who worships him, dazzled him momentarily. He despises her gold as dross beside your beauty. Love, like the comet, struck him and has fled. — Say it did, Teodoro.
D IANA . Immortal liar!
T EODORO . If Marcella loves Fabio, hope is vain, Tristan.
T RISTAN . So you need encouragement also? Advance!
T EODORO . He has promised her marriage.
T RISTAN . He believes what she says. — Here! Get out!
Give me your hand and make up instantly.
T EODORO . Knave, what would you?
T RISTAN . Signor, do it for me. Where is your hand?
T EODORO . How can Marcella say I loved another? It was she, she!
T RISTAN . Oh, you are simple and she plays you cunningly.
Marcella . My wrongs complain to heaven.
T RISTAN . Sh, he'll believe you! Hearten him.
Courage, sir! Here's a pretty how do you do.
T EODORO . I kneeled to her! God knows I can do no more.
Marcella . He leaves me.
T RISTAN . No! Not that either — —
Marcella To T RISTAN . I die with love yet linger here.
T RISTAN . Master, forward! Courage!
D IANA . Devil of a lackey! How does he know so much?
Marcella . Tristan, I depart.
T EODORO . Tristan, let her go.
T RISTAN . Well, then, I obey. No hope —
T EODORO . Stop her.
Marcella . I vanish proudly.
T RISTAN . Both stand their ground and require no stopping.
Marcella . Dear heart, I cannot go!
T EODORO . Nor I, for love is firm as the rocky islands of the sea.
Marcella . Come to my arms!
T EODORO . I fly!
T RISTAN . If this was prearranged, why, I had all my work for nothing! They stay.
A NARDA . To D IANA . Revolting!
D IANA . Trust a man with a woman!
T EODORO . How your words wounded me!
T RISTAN . That embrace was satisfactory, and as a third party, too, it is all I am likely to get.
Marcella . If I ever exchange your love for the world, or for Fabio's, my beloved, give me death!
T EODORO . Marcella, young love is born to-day. If I slight you, heaven punish me with the happiness of Fabio!
Marcella . You must renounce your infidelities, my dear, every one.
T EODORO . Rather bid me conquer kingdoms.
Marcella . Will you swear that all women are unattractive beside me, and hideous as well?
T EODORO . Beside you they are. Obviously.
Marcella . Since we belong to each other, love, do we need Tristan standing by?
T RISTAN . Yes, but objecting to me is like protesting at yourselves.
Marcella . Swear the Countess is a scullion and a jade.
T EODORO . Worse than that, she is the devil.
Marcella . And an ass to boot?
T EODORO . At both ends.
Marcella . A prig, too?
T EODORO . A bore.
D IANA . To A NARDA . This has gone far enough! Have I chills or do I burn?
A NARDA . Lady, they know not what they say.
T RISTAN . If you think you can describe the Countess, just listen to me.
D IANA . What will he do? No, no — —
T RISTAN . First, to begin — —
D IANA . There will be no second for this fool. Appear!
Marcella . Teodoro, fly!
T RISTAN . The Countess!
T EODORO . The Countess!
D IANA . Did I surprise you, Teodoro?
T EODORO . Signora!
T RISTAN . Thunder crashes, and forked lightning makes me run!
D IANA . A pen, Anarda. Teodoro will take a letter that has been forming in my mind.
T EODORO . I have outstepped assurance.
D IANA . Love, open his eyes! I excel Marcella bodily, yet he loves her and my people laugh. They laugh!
T EODORO . She does not look, she does not speak. True, tapestries have ears and palace walls have tongues.
A NARDA . Here is the smaller desk to write upon.
D IANA . Your pen, Teodoro.
T EODORO . Countess!
Death or banishment?
D IANA . Nay, write.
T EODORO . Begin.
D IANA . With one knee upon the ground? A pillow, Anarda.
T EODORO . I rest easily.
D IANA . A pillow, Anarda!
T EODORO . An evil omen. Men kneel to executioners.
Will you begin?
D IANA . Mark well as you write.
T EODORO . There is no mercy.
D IANA . When a noble lady declares herself to a commoner, that man may not approach another. Those who are blind to fortune see themselves as fools.
T EODORO . As fools, my lady. No more?
D IANA . No more. Seal the letter, Teodoro.
A NARDA . Lady, what is this?
D IANA . Love's folly.
A NARDA . Love of whom?
D IANA . Oh, to be deaf and never hear, for in my house the stones shout!
T EODORO . The letter is not yet addressed, though sealed.
D IANA . Deliver it, Teodoro, and never a word to Marcella. God grant you comprehension as you read!
T EODORO . She goes! Oh, this woman loves, but intermittently, as one who bleeds and the pulse wavers!
Marcella . Are we banished? Poison? I trembled behind the portal.
T EODORO . Marcella, she gives you to Fabio, and dictated this letter to your home inquiring as to the dowry. Nothing else.
Marcella . Now heaven forbid!
T EODORO . May you prosper, and when you are a wife, never mention my name again, in jest, reproof or praise.
Marcella . I can't believe it.
T EODORO . What is done is done. Here is the letter.
Fare you well.
Marcella . Am I in love with change, a phantom? She has bewitched him. He is like a bucket that, going down, the water fills, coming up to be emptied over and over. Foolish Teodoro, slave of greatness! She smiles, you smile on her; she frowns, you sigh to me. A light head tries all patience.
R ICCARDO . Fabio, I might not stay, hastening to avow in joyance my everlasting fealty.
F ABIO . Marcella, advise my lady that our lord the Marquis waits.
Marcella . Jealousy, is this some new legend of misfortune?
F ABIO . The Marquis waits.
Marcella . I go.
F ABIO . Our lord and master.
R ICCARDO . To-morrow, Fabio, accept a thousand pounds at my palace, to which upon occasion I shall add a Neapolitan horse of purest breed.
F ABIO . I rejoice beyond all gratitude.
R ICCARDO . Though you serve Diana henceforth count yourself my friend.
F ABIO . I prostrate myself in joy.
R ICCARDO . Augmenting still my debt.
D IANA . I greet Your Excellency with smiles.
R ICCARDO . Summoned by Fabio, I cast myself at your feet in divine ecstacy. Duty and pleasure vie, dowering my passion with an ardor that would be presumption in any save a husband, master of the heart. I neither deserve you, lady, no, nor deserve even to desire you. But you are supremely mine!
D IANA . What is this? I am too amazed to speak. Who summoned you? Who makes mock of my name?
R ICCARDO . Mock? Fabio — —
F ABIO . I ran with the news, despatched by Teodoro.
D IANA . Ah, Riccardo, my secretary is to blame! I praised your person beyond my cousin Federigo's, slighting his bearing, and Teodoro transformed my idle words to oaths. Excellency, pardon! These dull fools lack wit or true perception.
R ICCARDO . Fabio is pardoned in your presence for a lack-wit, nowhere else. Spare us these empty vaunts, which are the antidote to love!
D IANA . This was your doing, knave.
F ABIO . Signora, forgive me. Pardon.
D IANA . Summon Teodoro.
Shall popinjays leer while I die of love?
F ABIO . Off trots the horse with the thousand crowns!
D IANA . What would you, love? Now, now my heart was free
Of Teodoro. Still must you complain?
But you reply that love can thrive on pain
And live a ghostly shadow, mocking me.
Ah, teach me not the wiles of jealousy
For all the ardors of her arts are vain,
And from her love shall never woman gain
Trophies of honor to win constancy.
I love a man too well, yet well I know
I am the sea and he the tossing bark —
Down to the depths which is the one to go?
Love puts to sea and arms the fragile ark
While honor leaps to grasp the bended bow
And snap the string, ere arrow find the mark!
F ABIO . The Marquis would have run me through at mention of the thousand crowns.
T EODORO . Nay, nay, persist, Fabio. Shift, temper the attack.
F ABIO . Am I mad?
T EODORO . The Marquis's good fortune infuriates the Count. Run to him with word of this reverse and it nets you another thousand.
F ABIO . I believe it does and am there already.
T EODORO . Run!
T EODORO . A hopeful creature. — Lady!
D IANA . The fool had the grace to go.
T EODORO . Lady, I have studied your note with understanding. The heart of service is respect, yet I am at fault to hesitate or delay, for which reason I here confess my passion, all love and worship, and stand trembling at the image of my temerity.
D IANA . Teodoro, you forget yourself. Clearly, your duty is to love me, and well you may, for I have favored you above all others in my house. But to presume — —
T EODORO . This is the language of command.
D IANA . Teodoro, press not beyond the bound. Your place is here. A noble lady, looking upon you, brightens your base birth by the refulgence of her gleam, which remains the solace of your poor, dull life.
T EODORO . Lady, pardon if, baffled, I have presumed. Why grant me hope, dashing me down so rudely that I fall ill, lying an entire month helpless? I cool and you flame in beauty. I burn and you congeal as ice. Leave me to Marcella, for this is the tale of the gardener's dog. I may not marry her, yet, abstaining, you abstain from me, and in the joy of my dream bid me wake. Lady, choose or refuse, for I can no longer endure these contraries, and from this moment I shall love where there is hope of reward.
D IANA . Teodoro, forget Marcella and learn wisdom. Choose a mistress, so it be not she.
T EODORO . Lady, Marcella loves me and I love her, in perfect faith. My heart is my own, and follows where love leads. Adoring Marcella, she worships me in truth and constancy.
D IANA . Indecent strumpet! I will behead you both.
T EODORO . Excellency!
D IANA . Filthy lackey, have it in the face!
F ABIO . A moment! Step back — —
F EDERIGO . Ah, Fabio! It is too late — I fear that we intrude.
Gentle greetings, fairest lady.
D IANA . Oh, I was speaking with my secretary.
F EDERIGO . Conferring? Advisedly.
D IANA . You are very welcome.
F EDERIGO . Nay, I presume, unannounced — —
D IANA . Federigo, I have indulged a sportive humor since I was a child. Come, and we will laugh over the poor Marquis.
F EDERIGO . Fabio — —
F ABIO . Signor?
F EDERIGO . This melody suggests a theme.
F ABIO . In God's name, Count, I marvel at this abuse of Teodoro. The Countess showers him with her favor.
F EDERIGO . He has flushed a noble red.
T EODORO . If this be aught but love, what can love be?
What other name shall cover fierce desire?
Can ladies love like this and thus take fire,
Incarnate furies, vowed to mastery?
If place give title to rank tyranny,
And gentle blood dip freely in the mire,
Why then turn from me, condemn me to expire
In torment, victim of foul battery?
Oh blessed hand incontinent to slay,
Who, who shall kiss the beauty of your rose
And whisper thanks throughout the grateful day?
I had not thought that love could pain impose.
In cruelty, mayhap, she seeks a way
To touch me to the quick? My lady knows.
T RISTAN . Am I a coward? I always arrive too late.
T EODORO . Tristan, Tristan! Leave me.
T RISTAN . What is this, sir? Blood?
T EODORO . Blood? Jealousy writes love in crimson characters.
T RISTAN . Sweet Savior, but it employs a beastly ink!
T EODORO . No harm is done. Mad, enraged at her own desire, she assails my face where her shame is reflected, leaving it frightful.
T RISTAN . Master, if Lucia or Giovanna quarrel with me and scratch me an endearment, clawing me or hauling my hair out because I've played them a trick falsely, they are light women with heavy stockings and a friar's leaden shoes, but a noble lady debases herself raging thus vilely.
T EODORO . Ah, Tristan, she adores and hates me. She will not have me, she will not yield me to Marcella. I come, she goes. She is the gardener's dog which will neither eat nor permit others to do so, nor is in nor is out nor is neither.
T RISTAN . A professor-doctor who was thought very well of, had a boy who could never agree with his housekeeper. They fought at dinner, they fought at supper, the poor man could not sleep in his house, there was no peace nor quiet, till one day he came home from a class suddenly and found the pair in bed together. " Thank God, " he said, " they get on somewhere. " May He preserve you from a like calamity.
D IANA . Teodoro! Teodoro!
T EODORO . Lady?
T RISTAN . She surprises us at the improper moment!
D IANA . Are you hurt, Teodoro?
T EODORO . As you see.
D IANA . Did I hurt you?
T EODORO . Hurt me?
D IANA . You could reply more gently.
T EODORO . I cannot do more, tried as I am, alas — harried!
D IANA . My sweet hero!
T EODORO . Poor, abused, distressed! Words fly, blows fall; I go, you call me back; I stay, you strike me. I forget, you write; I remember, you forget. You would have me follow the hint to play the fool, always, everywhere, eternally, but no! I will live and die, I will have an end of these extremities!
D IANA . Did I draw blood, Teodoro? Oh ...
T EODORO . Oh?
D IANA . Lend me a handkerchief.
T EODORO . No — —
D IANA . Give it to me. There, there ...
T EODORO . But you take it?
D IANA . Yes, to keep. Ottavio will give you two thousand crowns, Teodoro.
T EODORO . Ottavio will?
D IANA . To buy handkerchiefs.
T EODORO . Oh, woman, woman!
T RISTAN . Woman, what a wooing!
T EODORO . Two thousand crowns?
T RISTAN . She can hit me all day for another two.
T EODORO . She took my handkerchief and they will buy others.
T RISTAN . But this was blooded. Evidently she intends to take good care of your nose.
T EODORO . Tristan, dogs fawn after they bite.
T RISTAN . Remember the doctor's housekeeper! But you haven't the crowns yet — —
T EODORO . No, God forbid!
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