Gardener's Dog, The - Act Third
ACT THIRD
R ICCARDO . You came upon them?
F EDERIGO . Surprising her in full career.
R ICCARDO . But did she strike him?
F EDERIGO . A servant may be remiss but scarcely to such degree. When a lady is moved to violence clearly there must be provocation. The man's arrogance knows no bounds.
R ICCARDO . She is noble, he a clown.
F EDERIGO . She plays with fire. A very moral philosopher contrived a fable of two jars, one clay and the other copper, or it might be iron, which floated down a stream from the mountains, whereupon the clay jar drifted away from the copper one so as not to smash, a precaution that is advisable when a man and woman get together, so as not to smash.
R ICCARDO . I admire Diana's dash and pride, and far be that day! But Teodoro rides resplendent, well attended. At whose charge? Gold, apparel and servants become no secretary.
F EDERIGO . There has been comment in Naples, true or false, which impugns the family honor. Let the man die.
R ICCARDO . Death were a mercy, though to one a deprivation.
F EDERIGO . Yes, but how remove him?
R ICCARDO . Quietly. There are men in Naples who live by the trade, drawing blood for gold. Seek out a bully and have done.
F EDERIGO . By all means. To-day!
R ICCARDO . He shall meet a sudden end.
F EDERIGO . Here come four bravos.
R ICCARDO . Born to the trade.
F EDERIGO . Outraged heaven seals our judgment.
F URIO . Buy the wine, lad, since your coat tops the rest.
A NTONELLO . He's the man to buy. Tristan, wine!
T RISTAN . Red wine, friends! The thing I'll gladly do.
L IRANO . Bully cloak!
T RISTAN . Friends, this is a beginning, a glint of the grandeur to appear. If fortune be true, hail the secretary's secretary!
L IRANO . The Countess flatters your master, Tristan.
T RISTAN . He's her brain, her right hand, the door to her favor. Cursed fortune I say! Give me a drink!
F URIO . The tavern offers Lachrimae and Malmsey to such as thirst.
T RISTAN . Yes, give me good Greek wine. I drink Greek, I spout Greek.
R ICCARDO . That dark one with the fiery face is the fiercest, meseems. The others flatter and wait upon him. — What, Celio!
C ELIO . Master?
R ICCARDO . Summon that great hulk.
C ELIO . To T RISTAN . Ah, sir, before entering the chapel, please you to speak a word with my master, the Marquis?
T RISTAN . Friends, the Prince attends me; I cannot refuse. Enter, toss off seven or eight cups, and thereto add abundant cakes, the while we communicate.
A NTONELLO . Better not be long
T RISTAN . I'm with you now.
T RISTAN . What would Your Excellency?
R ICCARDO . Marvelling at your valor, speaking for the Count Federigo and myself, are you the man to kill a man?
T RISTAN . God bless us, the Countess' lovers! Oho, how's this?
F EDERIGO . Well?
T RISTAN . Your nobility esteems my bravery, for by the mighty Tower of Strength no sword in Naples but shivers at my name! Have you heard of Hector? Hector trifles not with me. Hector conquered Troy, I Italy!
F EDERIGO . Marquis, this is our man. We speak under secrecy. Would you adhere to your reputation and kill a man, receiving in recompense the sum you name?
T RISTAN . Two hundred crowns and go to the devil!
R ICCARDO . We'll pay three hundred. Kill him to-night.
T RISTAN . His name first, and a slight advance.
R ICCARDO . Have you heard, by chance, of Diana, Countess of Belflor?
T RISTAN . I have men in her house this very moment.
R ICCARDO . Will you kill one of her servants?
T RISTAN . I'll kill her men-servants and her maid-servants and the team that draws her coach.
R ICCARDO . The man is Teodoro.
T RISTAN . Gentlemen, as a team, that will require address, since he already fears you, and so sulks at home o' nights. However, he has sought my protection. I will serve him and duly stick him through, after which in pace requiescat , for no man dare suspect me. Do you agree?
F EDERIGO . You are the one man in Naples to put him to sleep. Serve him, run him through, and then to us.
T RISTAN . A hundred crowns on the spot!
R ICCARDO . This purse contains fifty. You shall have a hundred more when you introduce yourself into Diana's house, and there will be added store to boot.
T RISTAN . Omit the boot. Excellencies, addio . Mastranzo awaits me, He of the Iron Hand, Arfuz, Devil-May-Care and The Great Wall-Breaker. If they suspect — —
R ICCARDO . No, by the rood!
F EDERIGO . We have indeed been fortunate.
R ICCARDO . Teodoro is dead already.
F EDERIGO . A prodigy of strength, this bully.
T RISTAN . Hello, Master!
T EODORO . Oh, Tristan, my friend, I walk dazed, not knowing why or whither, pursuing fancy which mounts even to the sovereign sun! Yesterday Diana smiled, yet to-day languishes, nor deigns to greet me, till Marcella laughs at my discomfiture.
T RISTAN . Come home at once. You cannot be seen abroad with me.
T EODORO . With you? Indeed?
T RISTAN . Upon the way I will unfold a plot to murder you.
T EODORO . Murder me? How now?
T RISTAN . Not so loud and look this way. The Count and the Marquis have engaged me to attend to it.
T EODORO . They have?
T RISTAN . Since that boxing-match they suspect you, and I have been hired as a suitable bully, fixing the price at a hundred doubloons, on which there is an advance of fifty crowns already paid. I said that you had appealed to me for protection so I would take the job to kill you, and in this way the whole plot's private.
T EODORO . Would God you would kill me! I neither live nor die!
T RISTAN . It is a predicament.
T EODORO . Yet I scent victory. Tristan, if Diana could discover an excuse, she would marry me. She is afraid, and, burning, freezes, and lacks the will to move.
T RISTAN . What would you say if I could provide an accelerator?
T EODORO . You? That you had the cunning of Ulysses.
T RISTAN . If you had, you would dig up a father, as good as the best, produce him, and then what of the Countess, Master? You would marry her.
T EODORO . Surely.
T RISTAN . Twenty years ago Count Lodovico, an ancient, haughty nobleman, lost a son named Teodoro, voyaging to Malta to visit his uncle the Master there. He was captured by the Moors of Biserta and never heard of again. I undertake, sir, to secure the Count as your father.
T EODORO . Tristan, these are knavish tricks. If you would live, refrain. Walk the paths of honor.
T RISTAN . Home at last, God help you! You will marry Diana by midday to-morrow.
T EODORO . I had not thought till now love could give ground
Nor basely shrink from battle, sorely pressed;
There is no enemy to weight the breast
Like absence, heart-sick, lorn on alien ground.
'Twere best I fly and give my love good ground,
Putting the miles between though heart protest,
For never lightning flashed from east to west
But man survived who wisely chose good ground.
Those who were bold of heart to break away
And put good ground between have love forgot,
And distant soils closed o'er their peaceful clay,
By love itself at last remembered not,
For love was dead and had been many a day,
Interred in absence, in good ground to rot.
D IANA . Teodoro, look up! Be not downcast.
T EODORO . Sorrow adds savor to love. I would not be cured for I am only sad imagining a change. There are ills so sweet that they grace even death. I only regret that I must remove beyond my good and evil.
D IANA . Go away? Perish the fancy!
T EODORO . They threaten to take my life.
D IANA . Pray who would kill you? Ah, many willingly, I know!
T EODORO . Envying my state, which for a time waxed proud. I crave permission to travel into Spain.
D IANA . A clever avoidance! Your love will be cured, my eyes will be dried, and my door freed at your departure. Since the day I reproved you, Federigo has redoubled his ardor. Fly to Spain, if you will, with my blessing and six thousand crowns God-speed.
T EODORO . Hereafter generosity must assume your name. Farewell!
D IANA . Teodoro, enough! Leave me. I can bear no more. Alas, I am a woman!
T EODORO . She weeps.
D IANA . Teodoro, have you gone?
T EODORO . I go, lady.
D IANA . Stay! No, go — Speak to me.
T EODORO . Your pleasure?
D IANA . What? Go, go.
T EODORO . I do.
D IANA . I am faint. What fiercer torment than the inconstancy of love? — Have you gone?
T EODORO . I go, lady, now.
D IANA . He leaves me. Oh God, this heavy curse of honor! What weight to heap upon the breast! Who made thee, honor? Oh, penance and punishment for our great sins, bulwark and barbican against upswelling evil!
T EODORO . May I go to-day?
D IANA . Why ask, Teodoro, when the very sight of you is poison, fatal to repose?
T EODORO . Lady, no, I came here for myself, not you, for else I exist not. I must take myself away and you must give myself to me.
D IANA . I cannot, for you may be lost again. Go, while love struggles with honor that it may be victor. Go, Teodoro, go, nor ask me aught, for if you stay you steal away the heart of me!
T EODORO . God keep you, lady.
D IANA . Honor, farewell, for you bar the soul from its dear quest! The light of my eyes is dimmed, snuffed out! Oh, weary, heavy eyes that cannot see, but weep! Eyes, since you have forgot your office, pay for your treachery in tears! I am not to blame. Yet do not weep, for weeping heals the pain, and I would torture you. How well you weep, how ill you see! And have you your excuse? The sun, too, shines on the clay, the sun is high and beautiful! No, shed not another tear. Cease, eyes, but suffer, close ... How well you weep, how ill you see!
Marcella . If constancy deserve its due, lady, it lies in your power to reward me, and, giving ground, assure my happiness.
D IANA . Reward you, Marcella? In what way? Nay, gladly.
Marcella . Teodoro sails for Spain, in peril of his life. Will you send me with him, married, that exile may be transformed to glory?
D IANA . Let him request the boon. The man should speak.
Marcella . I speak for him with full knowledge of his heart.
D IANA . Repeating, no doubt, his words?
Marcella . Over and over to eternity.
D IANA . Supreme insolence!
Marcella . We have discussed the voyage and arranged our departure.
D IANA . Honor, honor, forgive me, for love knows but extremes! But to-day the remedy lies in my power
Marcella . Lady, be generous.
D IANA . Marcella, can I bring myself to part with you? You bask in my love and Fabio's, who is your predestined mate. No, no, I shall give you to Fabio and let Teodoro go.
Marcella . I love Teodoro and detest Fabio.
D IANA . This is no time to falter. My heart, be bold!
Fabio is the better husband.
Marcella . Lady — —
D IANA . Obey, nor dare reply.
Marcella . How can the passion of the aching heart
Achieve a miracle, confronting power?
When black clouds gather and the tempests lower
To resist is folly and the weaker part.
Return, retrace thy steps where'er thou art,
O love, nor defy death! A tree in flower,
Love puts forth shoots to shade the summer hour
That die in winter, shrivelled, to depart.
Bright flowers of morning were my youthful joy.
A rude, rough hand has cast them in the dust
And jealous love my true love would destroy
And freeze the bud that was all hope and trust.
What boots it that the blossom may deploy
When no fruit ripens? No, nor ever must.
C AMILLO . Otherwise abandon hope of succession.
L ODOVICO . My age deters me. Although the excuse suffice, my misgivings must prevail, nor could I assure myself an heir though married. A woman whose husband is advanced in years suggests the ivy embracing the elm, prospering though the tree wither. The mere mention of marriage, Camillo, awakens memories that have passed into history and reopens wounds long forgotten. I have prayed for Teodoro daily but twenty years have passed, leaving me bereft, forlorn and dejected.
P AGE . Excellency, a Greek merchant waits at the door.
L ODOVICO . Admit him presently.
T RISTAN . Reverence, sir, and heaven rain down obeisance with mercy.
L ODOVICO . You are right welcome. What brings you to this remote strand?
T RISTAN . From Constantinople we touched at Cyprus, steering thence for Venice with a cargo of rich Persian cloths, when I bethought me of a desire to visit this fair city of Naples, the while my men landed the cloth. It has beauty and proportion.
L ODOVICO . Naples does possess both beauty and proportion.
T RISTAN . Agreed. Signor, my father was a merchant of Greece whose chief profit lay in buying and selling slaves. One day, entering the fair at Azteclerophon he purchased a boy, a prodigy of nature, as to show what she could do. He bought him from the Turks in a very special lot which a Turkish bashaw had taken out of a Maltese galley which they captured in Cephalonia.
L ODOVICO . Camillo, I faint! Attend!
T RISTAN . Fancying the boy, he bore him to Armenia, where he was nourished and brought up with me and with my sister.
L ODOVICO . Hold, hold, friend! Stay! I am shaken to the very marrow.
T RISTAN . Not bad for a start.
L ODOVICO . What was this boy's name?
T RISTAN . Teodoro, sir.
L ODOVICO . God! I am overcome, having word at last. Tears bedew my beard — —
T RISTAN . Serpalitonia, my sister, as I explained, and this rarely beautiful boy, having occasion, fell in love, as you will understand, at a tender age, in fact sixteen, and one day, when father was away, took steps to make it apparent in her, which so alarmed Teodoro that he disappeared, while more and more it appeared in Serpalitonia. Then Catiborrades — who was my father — wept over the loss and would not be consoled. In a word grief killed him and we baptised the child, as in that section of Armenia Christianity prevails, though with peculiar rites. We named the boy Terimaconiophorus, and he is grown up now in the city of Tepecacia where he lives. I thought of this as I was wandering about Naples, admiring the views, and took the paper from my pocket on which Teodoro had written his address. I questioned a Greek slave at the tavern where I stayed, who exclaimed " Why, if it isn't Count Lodovico's son! " The suggestion struck me, I determined to follow it, and, inquiring for your house, by mistake I found myself in that of the Countess of Belflor, and the very first man that I met there — —
L ODOVICO . Speak, speak!
T RISTAN . Was Teodoro.
L ODOVICO . Teodoro? Impossible!
T RISTAN . He tried to run, his strength failed — I hesitated, not being certain of his beard, then pursued him, seized him at last, forced him to speak, confessing fully, but he said that he had never told any man who he was nor that he had been a slave in Armenia, nor should I. " You are of this land, " said I, " and nobly born, fear not the taint of chains! " He laughed and I, confused, came on to you to verify the story, for if it be true I give you not only a child but a grandchild, and this without any claim upon the part of my sister, though she will bring him to Naples, for marriage is her pet aversion. She is anxious only to show Terimaconiophorus his illustrious ancestor.
L ODOVICO . Come to my arms for my soul tells me that this history is true, every word, and I rejoice. Ah, my son, my son, after the stretch of years art thou found, art thou found? Camillo, advise me. I must go to him in haste!
C AMILLO . Assuredly. Run, fly, and in his arms revive after these weary years!
L ODOVICO . Friend, come with me and share my rejoicing, or if you would repose, remain expectant. My house and all I have are yours. I cannot stay!
T RISTAN . Go, for I must dispose of certain diamonds in my care. Anon I return. Come, Mercaponiades.
F URIO . Step firmly.
T RISTAN . He swallows it wholides.
F URIO . Whollyphorus.
T RISTAN . Sonorous.
C AMILLO . Their native speech.
L ODOVICO . Camillo, come quickly!
T RISTAN . Are they gone? Is it safe?
F URIO . The old man runs ahead, forgetting coach and people.
T RISTAN . What if this were so and the son were Teodoro, truly?
F URIO . There is no truth in those lies.
T RISTAN. Smuggle these robes somewhere, for we must get rid of them. I can't afford to be seen by my acquaintances.
F URIO . Make haste.
T RISTAN . A father's love is a beautiful thing.
F URIO . Will you pick me up farther on?
T RISTAN . By the house under the elm tree, Furio.
F URIO . I run.
T RISTAN . Brains will work miracles.
I fold my cloak under like a half cassock, for I could never leave that in the portal with the Armenian turban and that Greek skirt.
F EDERIGO . Is this the bully who promised to make way with Teodoro?
R ICCARDO . Stand, sir! When fulfil you your promises, made so brashly? Is this the measure of your reputation?
T RISTAN . Signor!
F EDERIGO . Would you cozen us like your own kind?
T RISTAN . Sir, you speak upon impulse. I have entered the wretched fool's service and he shall die, but your good name will not permit that my sword should drip red. Prudence is heaven-born, hence it was the virtue the ancients loved. Teodoro shall lie with his fathers. The shadow descends, the man remains in his chamber by night, no doubt a prey to care. A cold thrust will chill his breath, but anon. I know when to deal out death.
F EDERIGO . Marquis, he speaks with conviction, has entered his service, perfected his plan, and now has only to commit the murder.
R ICCARDO . I count the man as good as dead already.
F EDERIGO . Conceal your exultation.
T RISTAN . Having satisfied you, gentlemen, I must ask you for fifty additional crowns. I require a horse to make my escape.
R ICCARDO . Receive our bounty thus. The principal part of this business is payment.
T RISTAN . My life to the purpose. And farewell, for we must not be seen from the balcony of the Countess.
F EDERIGO . He has skill in knavery.
T RISTAN . I'll show you how.
F EDERIGO . Courage is a gift.
R ICCARDO . He is more than audacious.
F EDERIGO . Would that we could be present at the death!
R ICCARDO . I'd like to see him do it.
C ELIO . The most wonderful and strange of miracles!
A very fable!
F EDERIGO . Here, Celio! You pass us by. Hello!
C ELIO . It's singular and unpalatable, sirs, to you. Do you see that crowd before Count Lodovico's door?
R ICCARDO . Is he dead?
C ELIO . Attend, I pray you. They flock to congratulate him because his lost son is found.
R ICCARDO . I have no objection, I am sure, but wish him all manner of good fortune.
C ELIO . Being both suitors to Diana, does it please you that her secretary, Teodoro, should turn out to be the Count's own son?
F EDERIGO . My soul sickens. His son?
R ICCARDO . The Count's son? How can he know that?
C ELIO . It's quite a story and the variations are so numerous that the devil could not reconcile them all.
F EDERIGO . This is the acme of the unpleasant.
R ICCARDO . My enthusiasm evaporates completely.
F EDERIGO . Let us hasten, however, to present ourselves.
R ICCARDO . With our compliments. Count, jointly we press our suit.
C ELIO . Better to support the blow.
Marcella . Must you go, Teodoro?
T EODORO . Alas, for both! No good can come from an unequal fight.
Marcella . The excuse is empty as your love. Despising me for Diana, now despair drives you to forget.
T EODORO . Diana? I?
Marcella . By turns you cower and have dared all, impelled by a mad desire. You feared her, Teodoro, remembering her state, and then presumed, forgetting your humility. But snow-capped mountains rise between the plains of love and honor. I am avenged although I love you still, burying my love in vengeance. Remember, but remember that I hate you, and love will spring again, because hate, though pretended only, is the progenitor of love.
T EODORO . How can you talk so when your lips long for Fabio?
Marcella . You drive me to him, maddened by disdain.
F ABIO . As Teodoro will depart presently, Marcella, I concede you the few moments that remain.
T EODORO . Jealousy can do no further harm for it will have to make a sea-voyage to get at me.
F ABIO . Are you leaving to-day?
T EODORO . Instantly.
F ABIO . My lady comes to say farewell.
D IANA . Are you still my voyager?
T EODORO . Would I had wings, lady, or at least, a keen pair of spurs! Verily.
D IANA . Ready without! What of the linen and the velvets?
A NARDA . All is prepared, lady.
F ABIO . We shall be rid of him in earnest.
Marcella . Don't talk to me.
D IANA . To T EODORO . A word before you go, Teodoro.
T EODORO . As you will.
D IANA . You go, Teodoro, knowing I adore you.
T EODORO . Therefore I go.
D IANA . Tell me, tell me, being who I am, what shall I do? How live?
T EODORO . Don't cry, lady.
D IANA . A speck of dust floated into my eye.
T EODORO . Say, rather, it was love.
D IANA . It was, it floated in a long time ago, and I must pluck it out.
T EODORO . Lady, I go. I go without my soul, which I leave here. I take nothing from you, for the homage of beauty is no less than a man's soul. What would you? I am yours entirely.
D IANA . Oh tragic day!
T EODORO . I go, lady. I go without my soul.
D IANA . Don't cry.
T EODORO . No, a speck, too, has floated into my eye.
A speck — —
D IANA . A spark of jealousy.
T EODORO . It is, lady!
D IANA . You have a box from me, filled with a thousand trifles, which are all a maid can give. When you open it you will say " Diana packed this with her tears, " for they are the trophies of your victory.
A NARDA . To D OROTEA . Love has undone them both.
D OROTEA . Love will not be denied.
A NARDA . They exchange sighs and tokens. This is to stay ...
D OROTEA . Poor Diana, the gardener's dog!
A NARDA . She holds his hand.
D OROTEA . Eat or others may.
L ODOVICO . Noble Diana, joy be my sponsor, together with my years, for this unexpected visitation!
D IANA . Count, I am honored. What is this?
L ODOVICO . Your ignorance, haply, is unique in Naples. The news spread like wild-fire so that I could scarcely make my way through the streets nor arrive unmobbed to greet my son.
D IANA . Your son? But is this a public carnival?
L ODOVICO . Has Your Excellency never heard how twenty years ago I sent my son to Malta with his uncle, only to be captured by the galleys of Ali Pasha?
D IANA . I recall the tale vaguely.
L ODOVICO . Heaven has restored my son to me after proving him in a thousand adversities and trials.
D IANA . Count, I thank you for these tidings, for, indeed, you bear good news.
L ODOVICO . Signora, in exchange for the news I must ask you to return my son, who is in your service, ignorant that I am his father. Would that his mother had lived to see this happy day!
D IANA . Your son in my service? It must be Fabio!
L ODOVICO . No, Signora, not Fabio, but Teodoro!
D IANA . Teodoro?
L ODOVICO . Certainly.
T EODORO . How is this?
D IANA . Teodoro, is the Count your father?
L ODOVICO . Oh, so this is Teodoro?
T EODORO . Count, Your Excellency, I — —
L ODOVICO . Son of my soul, ask no questions but let me die in your arms!
D IANA . Well, you take amazement from me!
A NARDA . Lady, Teodoro is a gentleman of the bluest blood and primacy, as I always knew.
T EODORO . Sir, you leave me speechless, dumb. Am I your son?
L ODOVICO . Had it not already been triply proved, one look were enough! You have not changed one jot!
T EODORO . No? Or tittle. Pardon a thousand times ...
L ODOVICO . Say no more for I am in ecstasy. What a face, what a figure! God shower blessings on you. What royal bearing! Teodoro, your birth is written on your brow by Nature. Let us hence. Come, come to take possession of my house and home, my rich estate, through portals crowned by the noblest scutcheons in all this kingdom!
T EODORO . Signor, I was about to set forth for Spain and you disquiet me greatly.
L ODOVICO . Spain? Good! Your Spain is here. Fly to my arms!
D IANA . Count, I beg you let Teodoro stay, compose himself a little, and then repair to you with the trappings of his rank. I cannot send your son forth from my house amid the press and shouting thus.
L ODOVICO . Well considered, though I grudge even the briefest instant, but as rumor bruits the news abroad on eagle's wings I take my leave, upon Your Excellency's promise that he shall lodge within my doors ere night-fall.
D IANA . I pledge my word.
L ODOVICO . Teodoro, come again to these arms!
T EODORO . I prostrate myself at your feet.
L ODOVICO . Camillo, I am ready. Bid me die!
C AMILLO . Teodoro is the perfect paragon of the age.
L ODOVICO . Realizing my joy I shall go mad, mad, mad!
D OROTEA . We congratulate you.
A NARDA . The noble can afford to be generous.
D OROTEA . We have a special claim to your favor, secretary.
Marcella . The good win over enemies. Embrace us warmly.
D IANA . No, for this is no time for frivolity. Give place! And throw wide both your arms, Excellency, my Lord Teodoro!
T EODORO . I worship you more now than in my need, Countess and my queen!
D IANA . Leave us! Go! We will remain together.
Marcella . Well, Fabio!
F ABIO . This suits me perfectly.
D OROTEA . I can't breathe or see.
A NARDA . So our lady is not the gardener's dog after all?
D OROTEA . Will she eat?
A NARDA . Will she?
D OROTEA . She will burst.
D IANA . Must you go to Spain?
T EODORO . I?
D IANA . " I go, lady. I go without my soul. "
T EODORO . When fortune smiles why laugh at me?
D IANA . High or low, still waver.
T EODORO . Let us ever be friends as becomes our hearts, both noble.
D IANA . I look upon you and I see the perfect nobleman.
T EODORO . To the cooling of desire. Would you have me great, or else your slave? For love in nature's course knows only slaves.
D IANA . No, husbands. You are mine, and this very night we shall be married.
T EODORO . My place is to yield, not to gainsay fate.
D IANA . I am the happiest woman in the world. Hurry and change, that your attire may befit your rank.
T EODORO . I will visit my estate and this father I have found, I know not how nor the meaning.
D IANA . Count, God go with you.
T EODORO . May God keep you, Countess.
D IANA . Before you go, oh ... oh ...
T EODORO . Oh?
D IANA . Oh yes! Why not? Fealty to a lady.
T EODORO . Complying with my obligation, I become your lord.
D IANA . No more attentions for Marcella, now, though the course be open.
T EODORO . Noblemen know no maidservants.
D IANA . Nobleman, be honest!
T EODORO . She doubts me.
D IANA . Who has a better right?
T EODORO . The right of a wife?
D IANA . The gates of Paradise! Fortune, hold, hold! — as I shall Teodoro!
R ICCARDO . May friends express sympathy upon the culmination of this happy day?
D IANA . Your Excellencies, indeed, stand in need of greater sympathy than you know.
F EDERIGO . We felicitate you upon the rare fortune of your servant.
D IANA . Gentlemen, be advised that Count Teodoro is to be my husband.
R ICCARDO . And she leaves us!
F EDERIGO . I am troubled, mightily.
R ICCARDO . Has not that bully killed him by this?
F EDERIGO . Speak of the devil — —
T RISTAN . All goes well so far. Good! It shows how a lackeyophorus with genius can lord it over Naples.
R ICCARDO . Stop, Tristan, or whatever your name may be!
T RISTAN . May be? My name is Murder-Many.
F EDERIGO . Yes, but when?
T RISTAN . Now! If they hadn't made him Count today, I'd have stuck him on the spot.
R ICCARDO . But you did not!
T RISTAN . At the time I bargained for the three hundred crowns, this Teodoro was a servant, and of no account. Count Teodoro will cost you more, in the reward let there be more to count, for he is worth from four to six servants dead, who for the most part starve or are scared to death anyway, and so pass out naturally, or through force of habit.
F EDERIGO . What will it cost to get rid of our man this very night?
T RISTAN . A thousand crowns. Cash.
R ICCARDO . Done!
T RISTAN . A deposit first.
R ICCARDO . Take this chain.
T RISTAN . Collect your money.
F EDERIGO . We shall amass it instantly.
T RISTAN . Sudden death and prompt payment!
R ICCARDO . Well, we shall be ready for you.
T RISTAN . Keep the secret.
T EODORO . I saw you speak to those villains.
T RISTAN . They are the supreme gulls of the city. I have this chain on account of a thousand crowns if I make way with you to-night.
T EODORO . Yes, but what is this business? I do not like it, Tristan.
T RISTAN . Teodoro, if you had heard me speak Greek, you'd award me more than a chain. I take to Greek naturally. All you do is run on, which I did, but believe me I unloaded a cargo — Azteclerophon, Catiborraphorus, Serpalitonia, Xipides, Atecadarsis, Philomocleontes, which are Greek enough in all conscience, and for all I know may be Greek authentic.
T EODORO . I am mortified and depressd. If this trick is discovered they will behead us at the very least. I have a thousand reasons for protest. Desist!
T RISTAN . Desist? You are a hard man to satisfy.
T EODORO . I am undone, ruined!
T RISTAN . Drift along a little, why not, and see? See what happens.
T EODORO . Here comes the Countess.
T RISTAN . I disappear.
D IANA . Teodoro, you will disappoint your father.
T EODORO . My heart is heavy. Once more, let me pursue my purpose and bury myself in Spain.
D IANA . Have you seen Marcella, my storm tossed weather-vane?
T EODORO . Marcella?
D IANA . You are not yourself to-day.
T EODORO . Doubts assail me, pangs that I would not reveal.
D IANA . Nay, Teodoro, speak. Throw off this melancholy.
T EODORO . Tristan, in whose honor liars might well erect statues, knaves pronounce eulogies and Crete render up her labyrinths, sympathizing with my love and bethinking him of this lost son of Count Lodovico, has reared this fabric of fancy upon my poor shoulders, who am a son of the soil, and fatherless, for all I know, save for my wit, my education and my pen. The Count believes the story. I might marry you and possess fortune, a name, but the native temper of my soul forbids, for I am a man born to be honest. Thus I request once more permission to depart for Spain, for I would not offend your love, your birth or dignities.
D IANA . The wise can be foolish, wise in confession, which is nobility, and foolish in distrust, imagining my love will stay, having found the sanction of my prayer. Joy is not born of grandeur but very simply in the heart. It is the wedding of the spirit with the goal of its desire. We shall marry, we shall be one, and, better to keep our secret, to-night when Tristan is asleep, I will have him drowned in the well.
T RISTAN . No you don't!
D IANA . Who is that?
T RISTAN . Who do you think? Tristan, and that's the meanest ingratitude, the rankest positively, that ever was thought up by a lady. I fix it for you, you give up, despair, then find out it has all been done by me, yes, and leave me to drown!
D IANA . Oh, did you hear that? Teodoro! — —
T RISTAN . You'll do no fishing with my corpse.
D IANA . How he does love to talk, Teodoro!
T RISTAN . Talk?
D IANA . Yes, but I'll let you off as a joke, since nobody pays any attention to what you say. It was your idea, remember, so you must never tell, for if you do — oh, well!
T RISTAN . I'll prove myself no liar.
T EODORO . Enough, enough! I hear voices, confused cries. Who's at the door?
R ICCARDO . We acclaim your son.
F EDERIGO . All Naples crowds in tribute before the gate.
L ODOVICO . With Diana's permission, a coach is in readiness, Teodoro, escorted by the flower of Naples, mounted and caparisoned to tender welcome. My son shall rest to-night under his own roof-tree after years of weary wandering, and repose where he was born.
D IANA . Count, first I have an announcement to make. In me, behold his affianced bride.
L ODOVICO . Fortune, stay thy wheel with this spoke of purest gold! I return with two children, having dreamed for years of one.
F EDERIGO . Riccardo, extend our congratulations.
R ICCARDO . I do more, I make them a present of Teodoro's life, for jealousy of the Countess induced us to engage this bully to kill him for a thousand crowns, in addition to that chain. I denounce him and demand his arrest as a complete villain.
T EODORO . No, for he was acting for my good and the public interest.
R ICCARDO . Who is this egregious puppy?
T EODORO . My faithful servant, Tristan, who has preserved and fathered me. In acknowledgment I bestow upon him Dorotea, Diana willing, for she has already blessed Fabio with Marcella.
R ICCARDO . Let Marcella's dower be at my charge, then.
F EDERIGO . Provided I may sponsor Dorotea.
L ODOVICO . I, having gained a son and daughter, shall dower the Countess.
T EODORO . Distinguished auditors, here ends the famous comedy of " The Gardener's Dog. " All please be very careful not to give away Teodoro's secret.
R ICCARDO . You came upon them?
F EDERIGO . Surprising her in full career.
R ICCARDO . But did she strike him?
F EDERIGO . A servant may be remiss but scarcely to such degree. When a lady is moved to violence clearly there must be provocation. The man's arrogance knows no bounds.
R ICCARDO . She is noble, he a clown.
F EDERIGO . She plays with fire. A very moral philosopher contrived a fable of two jars, one clay and the other copper, or it might be iron, which floated down a stream from the mountains, whereupon the clay jar drifted away from the copper one so as not to smash, a precaution that is advisable when a man and woman get together, so as not to smash.
R ICCARDO . I admire Diana's dash and pride, and far be that day! But Teodoro rides resplendent, well attended. At whose charge? Gold, apparel and servants become no secretary.
F EDERIGO . There has been comment in Naples, true or false, which impugns the family honor. Let the man die.
R ICCARDO . Death were a mercy, though to one a deprivation.
F EDERIGO . Yes, but how remove him?
R ICCARDO . Quietly. There are men in Naples who live by the trade, drawing blood for gold. Seek out a bully and have done.
F EDERIGO . By all means. To-day!
R ICCARDO . He shall meet a sudden end.
F EDERIGO . Here come four bravos.
R ICCARDO . Born to the trade.
F EDERIGO . Outraged heaven seals our judgment.
F URIO . Buy the wine, lad, since your coat tops the rest.
A NTONELLO . He's the man to buy. Tristan, wine!
T RISTAN . Red wine, friends! The thing I'll gladly do.
L IRANO . Bully cloak!
T RISTAN . Friends, this is a beginning, a glint of the grandeur to appear. If fortune be true, hail the secretary's secretary!
L IRANO . The Countess flatters your master, Tristan.
T RISTAN . He's her brain, her right hand, the door to her favor. Cursed fortune I say! Give me a drink!
F URIO . The tavern offers Lachrimae and Malmsey to such as thirst.
T RISTAN . Yes, give me good Greek wine. I drink Greek, I spout Greek.
R ICCARDO . That dark one with the fiery face is the fiercest, meseems. The others flatter and wait upon him. — What, Celio!
C ELIO . Master?
R ICCARDO . Summon that great hulk.
C ELIO . To T RISTAN . Ah, sir, before entering the chapel, please you to speak a word with my master, the Marquis?
T RISTAN . Friends, the Prince attends me; I cannot refuse. Enter, toss off seven or eight cups, and thereto add abundant cakes, the while we communicate.
A NTONELLO . Better not be long
T RISTAN . I'm with you now.
T RISTAN . What would Your Excellency?
R ICCARDO . Marvelling at your valor, speaking for the Count Federigo and myself, are you the man to kill a man?
T RISTAN . God bless us, the Countess' lovers! Oho, how's this?
F EDERIGO . Well?
T RISTAN . Your nobility esteems my bravery, for by the mighty Tower of Strength no sword in Naples but shivers at my name! Have you heard of Hector? Hector trifles not with me. Hector conquered Troy, I Italy!
F EDERIGO . Marquis, this is our man. We speak under secrecy. Would you adhere to your reputation and kill a man, receiving in recompense the sum you name?
T RISTAN . Two hundred crowns and go to the devil!
R ICCARDO . We'll pay three hundred. Kill him to-night.
T RISTAN . His name first, and a slight advance.
R ICCARDO . Have you heard, by chance, of Diana, Countess of Belflor?
T RISTAN . I have men in her house this very moment.
R ICCARDO . Will you kill one of her servants?
T RISTAN . I'll kill her men-servants and her maid-servants and the team that draws her coach.
R ICCARDO . The man is Teodoro.
T RISTAN . Gentlemen, as a team, that will require address, since he already fears you, and so sulks at home o' nights. However, he has sought my protection. I will serve him and duly stick him through, after which in pace requiescat , for no man dare suspect me. Do you agree?
F EDERIGO . You are the one man in Naples to put him to sleep. Serve him, run him through, and then to us.
T RISTAN . A hundred crowns on the spot!
R ICCARDO . This purse contains fifty. You shall have a hundred more when you introduce yourself into Diana's house, and there will be added store to boot.
T RISTAN . Omit the boot. Excellencies, addio . Mastranzo awaits me, He of the Iron Hand, Arfuz, Devil-May-Care and The Great Wall-Breaker. If they suspect — —
R ICCARDO . No, by the rood!
F EDERIGO . We have indeed been fortunate.
R ICCARDO . Teodoro is dead already.
F EDERIGO . A prodigy of strength, this bully.
T RISTAN . Hello, Master!
T EODORO . Oh, Tristan, my friend, I walk dazed, not knowing why or whither, pursuing fancy which mounts even to the sovereign sun! Yesterday Diana smiled, yet to-day languishes, nor deigns to greet me, till Marcella laughs at my discomfiture.
T RISTAN . Come home at once. You cannot be seen abroad with me.
T EODORO . With you? Indeed?
T RISTAN . Upon the way I will unfold a plot to murder you.
T EODORO . Murder me? How now?
T RISTAN . Not so loud and look this way. The Count and the Marquis have engaged me to attend to it.
T EODORO . They have?
T RISTAN . Since that boxing-match they suspect you, and I have been hired as a suitable bully, fixing the price at a hundred doubloons, on which there is an advance of fifty crowns already paid. I said that you had appealed to me for protection so I would take the job to kill you, and in this way the whole plot's private.
T EODORO . Would God you would kill me! I neither live nor die!
T RISTAN . It is a predicament.
T EODORO . Yet I scent victory. Tristan, if Diana could discover an excuse, she would marry me. She is afraid, and, burning, freezes, and lacks the will to move.
T RISTAN . What would you say if I could provide an accelerator?
T EODORO . You? That you had the cunning of Ulysses.
T RISTAN . If you had, you would dig up a father, as good as the best, produce him, and then what of the Countess, Master? You would marry her.
T EODORO . Surely.
T RISTAN . Twenty years ago Count Lodovico, an ancient, haughty nobleman, lost a son named Teodoro, voyaging to Malta to visit his uncle the Master there. He was captured by the Moors of Biserta and never heard of again. I undertake, sir, to secure the Count as your father.
T EODORO . Tristan, these are knavish tricks. If you would live, refrain. Walk the paths of honor.
T RISTAN . Home at last, God help you! You will marry Diana by midday to-morrow.
T EODORO . I had not thought till now love could give ground
Nor basely shrink from battle, sorely pressed;
There is no enemy to weight the breast
Like absence, heart-sick, lorn on alien ground.
'Twere best I fly and give my love good ground,
Putting the miles between though heart protest,
For never lightning flashed from east to west
But man survived who wisely chose good ground.
Those who were bold of heart to break away
And put good ground between have love forgot,
And distant soils closed o'er their peaceful clay,
By love itself at last remembered not,
For love was dead and had been many a day,
Interred in absence, in good ground to rot.
D IANA . Teodoro, look up! Be not downcast.
T EODORO . Sorrow adds savor to love. I would not be cured for I am only sad imagining a change. There are ills so sweet that they grace even death. I only regret that I must remove beyond my good and evil.
D IANA . Go away? Perish the fancy!
T EODORO . They threaten to take my life.
D IANA . Pray who would kill you? Ah, many willingly, I know!
T EODORO . Envying my state, which for a time waxed proud. I crave permission to travel into Spain.
D IANA . A clever avoidance! Your love will be cured, my eyes will be dried, and my door freed at your departure. Since the day I reproved you, Federigo has redoubled his ardor. Fly to Spain, if you will, with my blessing and six thousand crowns God-speed.
T EODORO . Hereafter generosity must assume your name. Farewell!
D IANA . Teodoro, enough! Leave me. I can bear no more. Alas, I am a woman!
T EODORO . She weeps.
D IANA . Teodoro, have you gone?
T EODORO . I go, lady.
D IANA . Stay! No, go — Speak to me.
T EODORO . Your pleasure?
D IANA . What? Go, go.
T EODORO . I do.
D IANA . I am faint. What fiercer torment than the inconstancy of love? — Have you gone?
T EODORO . I go, lady, now.
D IANA . He leaves me. Oh God, this heavy curse of honor! What weight to heap upon the breast! Who made thee, honor? Oh, penance and punishment for our great sins, bulwark and barbican against upswelling evil!
T EODORO . May I go to-day?
D IANA . Why ask, Teodoro, when the very sight of you is poison, fatal to repose?
T EODORO . Lady, no, I came here for myself, not you, for else I exist not. I must take myself away and you must give myself to me.
D IANA . I cannot, for you may be lost again. Go, while love struggles with honor that it may be victor. Go, Teodoro, go, nor ask me aught, for if you stay you steal away the heart of me!
T EODORO . God keep you, lady.
D IANA . Honor, farewell, for you bar the soul from its dear quest! The light of my eyes is dimmed, snuffed out! Oh, weary, heavy eyes that cannot see, but weep! Eyes, since you have forgot your office, pay for your treachery in tears! I am not to blame. Yet do not weep, for weeping heals the pain, and I would torture you. How well you weep, how ill you see! And have you your excuse? The sun, too, shines on the clay, the sun is high and beautiful! No, shed not another tear. Cease, eyes, but suffer, close ... How well you weep, how ill you see!
Marcella . If constancy deserve its due, lady, it lies in your power to reward me, and, giving ground, assure my happiness.
D IANA . Reward you, Marcella? In what way? Nay, gladly.
Marcella . Teodoro sails for Spain, in peril of his life. Will you send me with him, married, that exile may be transformed to glory?
D IANA . Let him request the boon. The man should speak.
Marcella . I speak for him with full knowledge of his heart.
D IANA . Repeating, no doubt, his words?
Marcella . Over and over to eternity.
D IANA . Supreme insolence!
Marcella . We have discussed the voyage and arranged our departure.
D IANA . Honor, honor, forgive me, for love knows but extremes! But to-day the remedy lies in my power
Marcella . Lady, be generous.
D IANA . Marcella, can I bring myself to part with you? You bask in my love and Fabio's, who is your predestined mate. No, no, I shall give you to Fabio and let Teodoro go.
Marcella . I love Teodoro and detest Fabio.
D IANA . This is no time to falter. My heart, be bold!
Fabio is the better husband.
Marcella . Lady — —
D IANA . Obey, nor dare reply.
Marcella . How can the passion of the aching heart
Achieve a miracle, confronting power?
When black clouds gather and the tempests lower
To resist is folly and the weaker part.
Return, retrace thy steps where'er thou art,
O love, nor defy death! A tree in flower,
Love puts forth shoots to shade the summer hour
That die in winter, shrivelled, to depart.
Bright flowers of morning were my youthful joy.
A rude, rough hand has cast them in the dust
And jealous love my true love would destroy
And freeze the bud that was all hope and trust.
What boots it that the blossom may deploy
When no fruit ripens? No, nor ever must.
C AMILLO . Otherwise abandon hope of succession.
L ODOVICO . My age deters me. Although the excuse suffice, my misgivings must prevail, nor could I assure myself an heir though married. A woman whose husband is advanced in years suggests the ivy embracing the elm, prospering though the tree wither. The mere mention of marriage, Camillo, awakens memories that have passed into history and reopens wounds long forgotten. I have prayed for Teodoro daily but twenty years have passed, leaving me bereft, forlorn and dejected.
P AGE . Excellency, a Greek merchant waits at the door.
L ODOVICO . Admit him presently.
T RISTAN . Reverence, sir, and heaven rain down obeisance with mercy.
L ODOVICO . You are right welcome. What brings you to this remote strand?
T RISTAN . From Constantinople we touched at Cyprus, steering thence for Venice with a cargo of rich Persian cloths, when I bethought me of a desire to visit this fair city of Naples, the while my men landed the cloth. It has beauty and proportion.
L ODOVICO . Naples does possess both beauty and proportion.
T RISTAN . Agreed. Signor, my father was a merchant of Greece whose chief profit lay in buying and selling slaves. One day, entering the fair at Azteclerophon he purchased a boy, a prodigy of nature, as to show what she could do. He bought him from the Turks in a very special lot which a Turkish bashaw had taken out of a Maltese galley which they captured in Cephalonia.
L ODOVICO . Camillo, I faint! Attend!
T RISTAN . Fancying the boy, he bore him to Armenia, where he was nourished and brought up with me and with my sister.
L ODOVICO . Hold, hold, friend! Stay! I am shaken to the very marrow.
T RISTAN . Not bad for a start.
L ODOVICO . What was this boy's name?
T RISTAN . Teodoro, sir.
L ODOVICO . God! I am overcome, having word at last. Tears bedew my beard — —
T RISTAN . Serpalitonia, my sister, as I explained, and this rarely beautiful boy, having occasion, fell in love, as you will understand, at a tender age, in fact sixteen, and one day, when father was away, took steps to make it apparent in her, which so alarmed Teodoro that he disappeared, while more and more it appeared in Serpalitonia. Then Catiborrades — who was my father — wept over the loss and would not be consoled. In a word grief killed him and we baptised the child, as in that section of Armenia Christianity prevails, though with peculiar rites. We named the boy Terimaconiophorus, and he is grown up now in the city of Tepecacia where he lives. I thought of this as I was wandering about Naples, admiring the views, and took the paper from my pocket on which Teodoro had written his address. I questioned a Greek slave at the tavern where I stayed, who exclaimed " Why, if it isn't Count Lodovico's son! " The suggestion struck me, I determined to follow it, and, inquiring for your house, by mistake I found myself in that of the Countess of Belflor, and the very first man that I met there — —
L ODOVICO . Speak, speak!
T RISTAN . Was Teodoro.
L ODOVICO . Teodoro? Impossible!
T RISTAN . He tried to run, his strength failed — I hesitated, not being certain of his beard, then pursued him, seized him at last, forced him to speak, confessing fully, but he said that he had never told any man who he was nor that he had been a slave in Armenia, nor should I. " You are of this land, " said I, " and nobly born, fear not the taint of chains! " He laughed and I, confused, came on to you to verify the story, for if it be true I give you not only a child but a grandchild, and this without any claim upon the part of my sister, though she will bring him to Naples, for marriage is her pet aversion. She is anxious only to show Terimaconiophorus his illustrious ancestor.
L ODOVICO . Come to my arms for my soul tells me that this history is true, every word, and I rejoice. Ah, my son, my son, after the stretch of years art thou found, art thou found? Camillo, advise me. I must go to him in haste!
C AMILLO . Assuredly. Run, fly, and in his arms revive after these weary years!
L ODOVICO . Friend, come with me and share my rejoicing, or if you would repose, remain expectant. My house and all I have are yours. I cannot stay!
T RISTAN . Go, for I must dispose of certain diamonds in my care. Anon I return. Come, Mercaponiades.
F URIO . Step firmly.
T RISTAN . He swallows it wholides.
F URIO . Whollyphorus.
T RISTAN . Sonorous.
C AMILLO . Their native speech.
L ODOVICO . Camillo, come quickly!
T RISTAN . Are they gone? Is it safe?
F URIO . The old man runs ahead, forgetting coach and people.
T RISTAN . What if this were so and the son were Teodoro, truly?
F URIO . There is no truth in those lies.
T RISTAN. Smuggle these robes somewhere, for we must get rid of them. I can't afford to be seen by my acquaintances.
F URIO . Make haste.
T RISTAN . A father's love is a beautiful thing.
F URIO . Will you pick me up farther on?
T RISTAN . By the house under the elm tree, Furio.
F URIO . I run.
T RISTAN . Brains will work miracles.
I fold my cloak under like a half cassock, for I could never leave that in the portal with the Armenian turban and that Greek skirt.
F EDERIGO . Is this the bully who promised to make way with Teodoro?
R ICCARDO . Stand, sir! When fulfil you your promises, made so brashly? Is this the measure of your reputation?
T RISTAN . Signor!
F EDERIGO . Would you cozen us like your own kind?
T RISTAN . Sir, you speak upon impulse. I have entered the wretched fool's service and he shall die, but your good name will not permit that my sword should drip red. Prudence is heaven-born, hence it was the virtue the ancients loved. Teodoro shall lie with his fathers. The shadow descends, the man remains in his chamber by night, no doubt a prey to care. A cold thrust will chill his breath, but anon. I know when to deal out death.
F EDERIGO . Marquis, he speaks with conviction, has entered his service, perfected his plan, and now has only to commit the murder.
R ICCARDO . I count the man as good as dead already.
F EDERIGO . Conceal your exultation.
T RISTAN . Having satisfied you, gentlemen, I must ask you for fifty additional crowns. I require a horse to make my escape.
R ICCARDO . Receive our bounty thus. The principal part of this business is payment.
T RISTAN . My life to the purpose. And farewell, for we must not be seen from the balcony of the Countess.
F EDERIGO . He has skill in knavery.
T RISTAN . I'll show you how.
F EDERIGO . Courage is a gift.
R ICCARDO . He is more than audacious.
F EDERIGO . Would that we could be present at the death!
R ICCARDO . I'd like to see him do it.
C ELIO . The most wonderful and strange of miracles!
A very fable!
F EDERIGO . Here, Celio! You pass us by. Hello!
C ELIO . It's singular and unpalatable, sirs, to you. Do you see that crowd before Count Lodovico's door?
R ICCARDO . Is he dead?
C ELIO . Attend, I pray you. They flock to congratulate him because his lost son is found.
R ICCARDO . I have no objection, I am sure, but wish him all manner of good fortune.
C ELIO . Being both suitors to Diana, does it please you that her secretary, Teodoro, should turn out to be the Count's own son?
F EDERIGO . My soul sickens. His son?
R ICCARDO . The Count's son? How can he know that?
C ELIO . It's quite a story and the variations are so numerous that the devil could not reconcile them all.
F EDERIGO . This is the acme of the unpleasant.
R ICCARDO . My enthusiasm evaporates completely.
F EDERIGO . Let us hasten, however, to present ourselves.
R ICCARDO . With our compliments. Count, jointly we press our suit.
C ELIO . Better to support the blow.
Marcella . Must you go, Teodoro?
T EODORO . Alas, for both! No good can come from an unequal fight.
Marcella . The excuse is empty as your love. Despising me for Diana, now despair drives you to forget.
T EODORO . Diana? I?
Marcella . By turns you cower and have dared all, impelled by a mad desire. You feared her, Teodoro, remembering her state, and then presumed, forgetting your humility. But snow-capped mountains rise between the plains of love and honor. I am avenged although I love you still, burying my love in vengeance. Remember, but remember that I hate you, and love will spring again, because hate, though pretended only, is the progenitor of love.
T EODORO . How can you talk so when your lips long for Fabio?
Marcella . You drive me to him, maddened by disdain.
F ABIO . As Teodoro will depart presently, Marcella, I concede you the few moments that remain.
T EODORO . Jealousy can do no further harm for it will have to make a sea-voyage to get at me.
F ABIO . Are you leaving to-day?
T EODORO . Instantly.
F ABIO . My lady comes to say farewell.
D IANA . Are you still my voyager?
T EODORO . Would I had wings, lady, or at least, a keen pair of spurs! Verily.
D IANA . Ready without! What of the linen and the velvets?
A NARDA . All is prepared, lady.
F ABIO . We shall be rid of him in earnest.
Marcella . Don't talk to me.
D IANA . To T EODORO . A word before you go, Teodoro.
T EODORO . As you will.
D IANA . You go, Teodoro, knowing I adore you.
T EODORO . Therefore I go.
D IANA . Tell me, tell me, being who I am, what shall I do? How live?
T EODORO . Don't cry, lady.
D IANA . A speck of dust floated into my eye.
T EODORO . Say, rather, it was love.
D IANA . It was, it floated in a long time ago, and I must pluck it out.
T EODORO . Lady, I go. I go without my soul, which I leave here. I take nothing from you, for the homage of beauty is no less than a man's soul. What would you? I am yours entirely.
D IANA . Oh tragic day!
T EODORO . I go, lady. I go without my soul.
D IANA . Don't cry.
T EODORO . No, a speck, too, has floated into my eye.
A speck — —
D IANA . A spark of jealousy.
T EODORO . It is, lady!
D IANA . You have a box from me, filled with a thousand trifles, which are all a maid can give. When you open it you will say " Diana packed this with her tears, " for they are the trophies of your victory.
A NARDA . To D OROTEA . Love has undone them both.
D OROTEA . Love will not be denied.
A NARDA . They exchange sighs and tokens. This is to stay ...
D OROTEA . Poor Diana, the gardener's dog!
A NARDA . She holds his hand.
D OROTEA . Eat or others may.
L ODOVICO . Noble Diana, joy be my sponsor, together with my years, for this unexpected visitation!
D IANA . Count, I am honored. What is this?
L ODOVICO . Your ignorance, haply, is unique in Naples. The news spread like wild-fire so that I could scarcely make my way through the streets nor arrive unmobbed to greet my son.
D IANA . Your son? But is this a public carnival?
L ODOVICO . Has Your Excellency never heard how twenty years ago I sent my son to Malta with his uncle, only to be captured by the galleys of Ali Pasha?
D IANA . I recall the tale vaguely.
L ODOVICO . Heaven has restored my son to me after proving him in a thousand adversities and trials.
D IANA . Count, I thank you for these tidings, for, indeed, you bear good news.
L ODOVICO . Signora, in exchange for the news I must ask you to return my son, who is in your service, ignorant that I am his father. Would that his mother had lived to see this happy day!
D IANA . Your son in my service? It must be Fabio!
L ODOVICO . No, Signora, not Fabio, but Teodoro!
D IANA . Teodoro?
L ODOVICO . Certainly.
T EODORO . How is this?
D IANA . Teodoro, is the Count your father?
L ODOVICO . Oh, so this is Teodoro?
T EODORO . Count, Your Excellency, I — —
L ODOVICO . Son of my soul, ask no questions but let me die in your arms!
D IANA . Well, you take amazement from me!
A NARDA . Lady, Teodoro is a gentleman of the bluest blood and primacy, as I always knew.
T EODORO . Sir, you leave me speechless, dumb. Am I your son?
L ODOVICO . Had it not already been triply proved, one look were enough! You have not changed one jot!
T EODORO . No? Or tittle. Pardon a thousand times ...
L ODOVICO . Say no more for I am in ecstasy. What a face, what a figure! God shower blessings on you. What royal bearing! Teodoro, your birth is written on your brow by Nature. Let us hence. Come, come to take possession of my house and home, my rich estate, through portals crowned by the noblest scutcheons in all this kingdom!
T EODORO . Signor, I was about to set forth for Spain and you disquiet me greatly.
L ODOVICO . Spain? Good! Your Spain is here. Fly to my arms!
D IANA . Count, I beg you let Teodoro stay, compose himself a little, and then repair to you with the trappings of his rank. I cannot send your son forth from my house amid the press and shouting thus.
L ODOVICO . Well considered, though I grudge even the briefest instant, but as rumor bruits the news abroad on eagle's wings I take my leave, upon Your Excellency's promise that he shall lodge within my doors ere night-fall.
D IANA . I pledge my word.
L ODOVICO . Teodoro, come again to these arms!
T EODORO . I prostrate myself at your feet.
L ODOVICO . Camillo, I am ready. Bid me die!
C AMILLO . Teodoro is the perfect paragon of the age.
L ODOVICO . Realizing my joy I shall go mad, mad, mad!
D OROTEA . We congratulate you.
A NARDA . The noble can afford to be generous.
D OROTEA . We have a special claim to your favor, secretary.
Marcella . The good win over enemies. Embrace us warmly.
D IANA . No, for this is no time for frivolity. Give place! And throw wide both your arms, Excellency, my Lord Teodoro!
T EODORO . I worship you more now than in my need, Countess and my queen!
D IANA . Leave us! Go! We will remain together.
Marcella . Well, Fabio!
F ABIO . This suits me perfectly.
D OROTEA . I can't breathe or see.
A NARDA . So our lady is not the gardener's dog after all?
D OROTEA . Will she eat?
A NARDA . Will she?
D OROTEA . She will burst.
D IANA . Must you go to Spain?
T EODORO . I?
D IANA . " I go, lady. I go without my soul. "
T EODORO . When fortune smiles why laugh at me?
D IANA . High or low, still waver.
T EODORO . Let us ever be friends as becomes our hearts, both noble.
D IANA . I look upon you and I see the perfect nobleman.
T EODORO . To the cooling of desire. Would you have me great, or else your slave? For love in nature's course knows only slaves.
D IANA . No, husbands. You are mine, and this very night we shall be married.
T EODORO . My place is to yield, not to gainsay fate.
D IANA . I am the happiest woman in the world. Hurry and change, that your attire may befit your rank.
T EODORO . I will visit my estate and this father I have found, I know not how nor the meaning.
D IANA . Count, God go with you.
T EODORO . May God keep you, Countess.
D IANA . Before you go, oh ... oh ...
T EODORO . Oh?
D IANA . Oh yes! Why not? Fealty to a lady.
T EODORO . Complying with my obligation, I become your lord.
D IANA . No more attentions for Marcella, now, though the course be open.
T EODORO . Noblemen know no maidservants.
D IANA . Nobleman, be honest!
T EODORO . She doubts me.
D IANA . Who has a better right?
T EODORO . The right of a wife?
D IANA . The gates of Paradise! Fortune, hold, hold! — as I shall Teodoro!
R ICCARDO . May friends express sympathy upon the culmination of this happy day?
D IANA . Your Excellencies, indeed, stand in need of greater sympathy than you know.
F EDERIGO . We felicitate you upon the rare fortune of your servant.
D IANA . Gentlemen, be advised that Count Teodoro is to be my husband.
R ICCARDO . And she leaves us!
F EDERIGO . I am troubled, mightily.
R ICCARDO . Has not that bully killed him by this?
F EDERIGO . Speak of the devil — —
T RISTAN . All goes well so far. Good! It shows how a lackeyophorus with genius can lord it over Naples.
R ICCARDO . Stop, Tristan, or whatever your name may be!
T RISTAN . May be? My name is Murder-Many.
F EDERIGO . Yes, but when?
T RISTAN . Now! If they hadn't made him Count today, I'd have stuck him on the spot.
R ICCARDO . But you did not!
T RISTAN . At the time I bargained for the three hundred crowns, this Teodoro was a servant, and of no account. Count Teodoro will cost you more, in the reward let there be more to count, for he is worth from four to six servants dead, who for the most part starve or are scared to death anyway, and so pass out naturally, or through force of habit.
F EDERIGO . What will it cost to get rid of our man this very night?
T RISTAN . A thousand crowns. Cash.
R ICCARDO . Done!
T RISTAN . A deposit first.
R ICCARDO . Take this chain.
T RISTAN . Collect your money.
F EDERIGO . We shall amass it instantly.
T RISTAN . Sudden death and prompt payment!
R ICCARDO . Well, we shall be ready for you.
T RISTAN . Keep the secret.
T EODORO . I saw you speak to those villains.
T RISTAN . They are the supreme gulls of the city. I have this chain on account of a thousand crowns if I make way with you to-night.
T EODORO . Yes, but what is this business? I do not like it, Tristan.
T RISTAN . Teodoro, if you had heard me speak Greek, you'd award me more than a chain. I take to Greek naturally. All you do is run on, which I did, but believe me I unloaded a cargo — Azteclerophon, Catiborraphorus, Serpalitonia, Xipides, Atecadarsis, Philomocleontes, which are Greek enough in all conscience, and for all I know may be Greek authentic.
T EODORO . I am mortified and depressd. If this trick is discovered they will behead us at the very least. I have a thousand reasons for protest. Desist!
T RISTAN . Desist? You are a hard man to satisfy.
T EODORO . I am undone, ruined!
T RISTAN . Drift along a little, why not, and see? See what happens.
T EODORO . Here comes the Countess.
T RISTAN . I disappear.
D IANA . Teodoro, you will disappoint your father.
T EODORO . My heart is heavy. Once more, let me pursue my purpose and bury myself in Spain.
D IANA . Have you seen Marcella, my storm tossed weather-vane?
T EODORO . Marcella?
D IANA . You are not yourself to-day.
T EODORO . Doubts assail me, pangs that I would not reveal.
D IANA . Nay, Teodoro, speak. Throw off this melancholy.
T EODORO . Tristan, in whose honor liars might well erect statues, knaves pronounce eulogies and Crete render up her labyrinths, sympathizing with my love and bethinking him of this lost son of Count Lodovico, has reared this fabric of fancy upon my poor shoulders, who am a son of the soil, and fatherless, for all I know, save for my wit, my education and my pen. The Count believes the story. I might marry you and possess fortune, a name, but the native temper of my soul forbids, for I am a man born to be honest. Thus I request once more permission to depart for Spain, for I would not offend your love, your birth or dignities.
D IANA . The wise can be foolish, wise in confession, which is nobility, and foolish in distrust, imagining my love will stay, having found the sanction of my prayer. Joy is not born of grandeur but very simply in the heart. It is the wedding of the spirit with the goal of its desire. We shall marry, we shall be one, and, better to keep our secret, to-night when Tristan is asleep, I will have him drowned in the well.
T RISTAN . No you don't!
D IANA . Who is that?
T RISTAN . Who do you think? Tristan, and that's the meanest ingratitude, the rankest positively, that ever was thought up by a lady. I fix it for you, you give up, despair, then find out it has all been done by me, yes, and leave me to drown!
D IANA . Oh, did you hear that? Teodoro! — —
T RISTAN . You'll do no fishing with my corpse.
D IANA . How he does love to talk, Teodoro!
T RISTAN . Talk?
D IANA . Yes, but I'll let you off as a joke, since nobody pays any attention to what you say. It was your idea, remember, so you must never tell, for if you do — oh, well!
T RISTAN . I'll prove myself no liar.
T EODORO . Enough, enough! I hear voices, confused cries. Who's at the door?
R ICCARDO . We acclaim your son.
F EDERIGO . All Naples crowds in tribute before the gate.
L ODOVICO . With Diana's permission, a coach is in readiness, Teodoro, escorted by the flower of Naples, mounted and caparisoned to tender welcome. My son shall rest to-night under his own roof-tree after years of weary wandering, and repose where he was born.
D IANA . Count, first I have an announcement to make. In me, behold his affianced bride.
L ODOVICO . Fortune, stay thy wheel with this spoke of purest gold! I return with two children, having dreamed for years of one.
F EDERIGO . Riccardo, extend our congratulations.
R ICCARDO . I do more, I make them a present of Teodoro's life, for jealousy of the Countess induced us to engage this bully to kill him for a thousand crowns, in addition to that chain. I denounce him and demand his arrest as a complete villain.
T EODORO . No, for he was acting for my good and the public interest.
R ICCARDO . Who is this egregious puppy?
T EODORO . My faithful servant, Tristan, who has preserved and fathered me. In acknowledgment I bestow upon him Dorotea, Diana willing, for she has already blessed Fabio with Marcella.
R ICCARDO . Let Marcella's dower be at my charge, then.
F EDERIGO . Provided I may sponsor Dorotea.
L ODOVICO . I, having gained a son and daughter, shall dower the Countess.
T EODORO . Distinguished auditors, here ends the famous comedy of " The Gardener's Dog. " All please be very careful not to give away Teodoro's secret.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.