The Duchess of Padua. Оскар Уайльд

do, your Grace,

       And will in all things carry out the creed

       Which you have taught me.

      Maffio

      I never heard your Grace

       So much in the vein for preaching; let the Cardinal

       Look to his laurels, sir.

      Duke

      The Cardinal!

       Men follow my creed, and they gabble his.

       I do not think much of the Cardinal;

       Although he is a holy churchman, and

       I quite admit his dulness. Well, sir, from now

       We count you of our household

      [He holds out his hand for Guido to kiss. Guido starts back in horror, but at a gesture from Count Moranzone, kneels and kisses it.]

      We will see

       That you are furnished with such equipage

       As doth befit your honour and our state.

      Guido

      I thank your Grace most heartily.

      Duke

      Tell me again

       What is your name?

      Guido

      Guido Ferranti, sir.

      Duke

      And you are Mantuan? Look to your wives, my lords,

       When such a gallant comes to Padua.

       Thou dost well to laugh, Count Bardi; I have noted

       How merry is that husband by whose hearth

       Sits an uncomely wife.

      Maffio

      May it please your Grace,

       The wives of Padua are above suspicion.

      Duke

      What, are they so ill-favoured! Let us go,

       This Cardinal detains our pious Duchess;

       His sermon and his beard want cutting both:

       Will you come with us, sir, and hear a text

       From holy Jerome?

      Moranzone [bowing]

      My liege, there are some matters—

      Duke [interrupting]

      Thou need’st make no excuse for missing mass.

       Come, gentlemen.

      [Exit with his suite into Cathedral.]

      Guido [after a pause]

      So the Duke sold my father;

       I kissed his hand.

      Moranzone

      Thou shalt do that many times.

      Guido

      Must it be so?

      Moranzone

      Ay! thou hast sworn an oath.

      Guido

      That oath shall make me marble.

      Moranzone

      Farewell, boy,

       Thou wilt not see me till the time is ripe.

      Guido

      I pray thou comest quickly.

      Moranzone

      I will come

       When it is time; be ready.

      Guido

      Fear me not.

      Moranzone

      Here is your friend; see that you banish him

       Both from your heart and Padua.

      Guido

      From Padua,

       Not from my heart.

      Moranzone

      Nay, from thy heart as well,

       I will not leave thee till I see thee do it.

      Guido

      Can I have no friend?

      Moranzone

      Revenge shall be thy friend;

       Thou need’st no other.

      Guido

      Well, then be it so.

      [Enter Ascanio Cristofano.]

      Ascanio

      Come, Guido, I have been beforehand with you in everything, for I have drunk a flagon of wine, eaten a pasty, and kissed the maid who served it. Why, you look as melancholy as a schoolboy who cannot buy apples, or a politician who cannot sell his vote. What news, Guido, what news?

      Guido

      Why, that we two must part, Ascanio.

      Ascanio

      That would be news indeed, but it is not true.

      Guido

      Too true it is, you must get hence, Ascanio,

       And never look upon my face again.

      Ascanio

      No, no; indeed you do not know me, Guido;

       ’Tis true I am a common yeoman’s son,

       Nor versed in fashions of much courtesy;

       But, if you are nobly born, cannot I be

       Your serving man? I will tend you with more love

       Than any hired servant.

      Guido [clasping his hand]

      Ascanio!

      [Sees Moranzone looking at him and drops Ascanio’s hand.]

      It cannot be.

      Ascanio

      What, is it so with you?

       I thought the friendship of the antique world

       Was not yet dead, but that the Roman type

       Might even in this poor and common age

       Find counterparts of love; then by this love

       Which beats between us like a summer sea,

       Whatever lot has fallen to your hand

       May I not share it?

      Guido

      Share it?

      Ascanio

      Ay!

      Guido

      No, no.

      Ascanio

      Have you then come to some inheritance

       Of lordly castle, or of stored-up gold?

      Guido [bitterly]

      Ay! I have come to my inheritance.

       O bloody legacy! and O murderous dole!

       Which, like the thrifty miser, must I hoard,

       And to my own self keep; and so, I pray you,

       Let us part here.

      Ascanio

      What, shall we never more

       Sit hand in hand, as we were wont to sit,

       Over some book of ancient chivalry