Complete Plays. Оскар Уайльд

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

       Stealing a truant holiday from school,

       Follow the huntsmen through the autumn woods,

       And watch the falcons burst their tasselled jesses,

       When the hare breaks from covert.

      GUIDO Never more.

      ASCANIO Must I go hence without a word of love?

      GUIDO You must go hence, and may love go with you.

      ASCANIO You are unknightly, and ungenerous.

      GUIDO

       Unknightly and ungenerous if you will.

       Why should we waste more words about the matter

       Let us part now.

      ASCANIO Have you no message, Guido?

      GUIDO

       None; my whole past was but a schoolboy’s dream;

       To-day my life begins. Farewell.

      ASCANIO Farewell [exit slowly.]

      GUIDO

       Now are you satisfied? Have you not seen

       My dearest friend, and my most loved companion,

       Thrust from me like a common kitchen knave!

       Oh, that I did it! Are you not satisfied?

      MORANZONE

       Ay! I am satisfied. Now I go hence,

       Do not forget the sign, your father’s dagger,

       And do the business when I send it to you.

      GUIDO Be sure I shall. [Exit LORD MORANZONE.]

      GUIDO

       O thou eternal heaven!

       If there is aught of nature in my soul,

       Of gentle pity, or fond kindliness,

       Wither it up, blast it, bring it to nothing,

       Or if thou wilt not, then will I myself

       Cut pity with a sharp knife from my heart

       And strangle mercy in her sleep at night

       Lest she speak to me. Vengeance there I have it.

       Be thou my comrade and my bedfellow,

       Sit by my side, ride to the chase with me,

       When I am weary sing me pretty songs,

       When I am light o’ heart, make jest with me,

       And when I dream, whisper into my ear

       The dreadful secret of a father’s murder -

       Did I say murder? [Draws his dagger.]

       Listen, thou terrible God!

       Thou God that punishest all broken oaths,

       And bid some angel write this oath in fire,

       That from this hour, till my dear father’s murder

       In blood I have revenged, I do forswear

       The noble ties of honourable friendship,

       The noble joys of dear companionship,

       Affection’s bonds, and loyal gratitude,

       Ay, more, from this same hour I do forswear

       All love of women, and the barren thing

       Which men call beauty -

      [The organ peals in the Cathedral, and under a canopy of cloth of silver tissue, borne by four pages in scarlet, the DUCHESS OF PADUA comes down the steps; as she passes across their eyes meet for a moment, and as she leaves the stage she looks back at GUIDO, and the dagger falls from his hand.]

      Oh! who is that?

      A CITIZEN The Duchess of Padua!

      END OF ACT I.

      ACT II

       Table of Contents

      SCENE

      A state room in the Ducal Palace, hung with tapestries representing the Masque of Venus; a large door in the centre opens into a corridor of red marble, through which one can see a view of Padua; a large canopy is set (R.C.) with three thrones, one a little lower than the others; the ceiling is made of long gilded beams; furniture of the period, chairs covered with gilt leather, and buffets set with gold and silver plate, and chests painted with mythological scenes. A number of the courtiers is out on the corridor looking from it down into the street below; from the street comes the roar of a mob and cries of ‘Death to the Duke’: after a little interval enter the Duke very calmly; he is leaning on the arm of Guido Ferranti; with him enters also the Lord Cardinal; the mob still shouting.

      DUKE

       No, my Lord Cardinal, I weary of her!

       Why, she is worse than ugly, she is good.

      MAFFIO [excitedly]

       Your Grace, there are two thousand people there

       Who every moment grow more clamorous.

      DUKE Tut, man, they waste their strength upon their lungs!

       People who shout so loud, my lords, do nothing;

       The only men I fear are silent men.

       [A yell from the people.]

       You see, Lord Cardinal, how my people love me.

       [Another yell.] Go, Petrucci,

       And tell the captain of the guard below

       To clear the square. Do you not hear me, sir?

       Do what I bid you.

      [Exit PETRUCCI.]

      CARDINAL I beseech your Grace

       To listen to their grievances.

      DUKE [sitting on his throne]

       Ay! the peaches

       Are not so big this year as they were last.

       I crave your pardon, my lord Cardinal,

       I thought you spake of peaches.

       [A cheer from the people.]

       What is that?

      GUIDO [rushes to the window]

       The Duchess has gone forth into the square,

       And stands between the people and the guard,

       And will not let them shoot.

      DUKE