The Duchess of Padua. Оскар Уайльд

By the great gods of eating, Guido, I am as hungry as a widow is for a husband, as tired as a young maid is of good advice, and as dry as a monk’s sermon. Come, Guido, you stand there looking at nothing, like the fool who tried to look into his own mind; your man will not come.

      Guido

      Well, I suppose you are right. Ah! [Just as he is leaving the stage with Ascanio, enter Lord Moranzone in a violet cloak, with a silver falcon broidered on the shoulder; he passes across to the Cathedral, and just as he is going in Guido runs up and touches him.]

      Moranzone

      Guido Ferranti, thou hast come in time.

      Guido

      What! Does my father live?

      Moranzone

      Ay! lives in thee.

       Thou art the same in mould and lineament,

       Carriage and form, and outward semblances;

       I trust thou art in noble mind the same.

      Guido

      Oh, tell me of my father; I have lived

       But for this moment.

      Moranzone

      We must be alone.

      Guido

      This is my dearest friend, who out of love

       Has followed me to Padua; as two brothers,

       There is no secret which we do not share.

      Moranzone

      There is one secret which ye shall not share;

       Bid him go hence.

      Guido [to Ascanio]

      Come back within the hour.

       He does not know that nothing in this world

       Can dim the perfect mirror of our love.

       Within the hour come.

      Ascanio

      Speak not to him,

       There is a dreadful terror in his look.

      Guido [laughing]

      Nay, nay, I doubt not that he has come to tell

       That I am some great Lord of Italy,

       And we will have long days of joy together.

       Within the hour, dear Ascanio.

      [Exit Ascanio.]

      Now tell me of my father? [Sits down on a stone seat.] Stood he tall? I warrant he looked tall upon his horse. His hair was black? or perhaps a reddish gold, Like a red fire of gold? Was his voice low? The very bravest men have voices sometimes Full of low music; or a clarion was it That brake with terror all his enemies? Did he ride singly? or with many squires And valiant gentlemen to serve his state? For oftentimes methinks I feel my veins Beat with the blood of kings. Was he a king?

      Moranzone

      Ay, of all men he was the kingliest.

      Guido [proudly]

      Then when you saw my noble father last

       He was set high above the heads of men?

      Moranzone

      Ay, he was high above the heads of men,

      [Walks over to Guido and puts his hand upon his shoulder.]

      On a red scaffold, with a butcher’s block

       Set for his neck.

      Guido [leaping up]

      What dreadful man art thou,

       That like a raven, or the midnight owl,

       Com’st with this awful message from the grave?

      Moranzone

      I am known here as the Count Moranzone,

       Lord of a barren castle on a rock,

       With a few acres of unkindly land

       And six not thrifty servants. But I was one

       Of Parma’s noblest princes; more than that,

       I was your father’s friend.

      Guido [clasping his hand]

      Tell me of him.

      Moranzone

      You are the son of that great Duke Lorenzo,

       He was the Prince of Parma, and the Duke

       Of all the fair domains of Lombardy

       Down to the gates of Florence; nay, Florence even

       Was wont to pay him tribute—

      Guido

      Come to his death.

      Moranzone

      You will hear that soon enough. Being at war—

       O noble lion of war, that would not suffer

       Injustice done in Italy!—he led

       The very flower of chivalry against

       That foul adulterous Lord of Rimini,

       Giovanni Malatesta—whom God curse!

       And was by him in treacherous ambush taken,

       And like a villain, or a low-born knave,

       Was by him on the public scaffold murdered.

      Guido [clutching his dagger]

      Doth Malatesta live?

      Moranzone

      No, he is dead.

      Guido

      Did you say dead? O too swift runner, Death,

       Couldst thou not wait for me a little space,

       And I had done thy bidding!

      Moranzone [clutching his wrist]

      Thou canst do it!

       The man who sold thy father is alive.

      Guido

      Sold! was my father sold?

      Moranzone

      Ay! trafficked for,

       Like a vile chattel, for a price betrayed,

       Bartered and bargained for in privy market

       By one whom he had held his perfect friend,

       One he had trusted, one he had well loved,

       One whom by ties of kindness he had bound—

      Guido

      And he lives

       Who sold my father?

      Moranzone

      I will bring you to him.

      Guido

      So, Judas, thou art living! well, I will make

       This world thy field of blood, so buy it straight-way,

       For thou must hang there.

      Moranzone

      Judas said you, boy?

       Yes, Judas in his treachery, but still

       He was more wise than Judas was, and held

       Those thirty silver pieces not enough.

      Guido

      What got he for my father’s blood?

      Moranzone

      What got he?

       Why cities, fiefs,