The Complete Plays of Oscar Wilde. Оскар Уайльд

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 straightway,

       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, and principalities,

       Vineyards, and lands.

      GUIDO

      Of which he shall but keep

       Six feet of ground to rot in. Where is he,

       This damned villain, this foul devil? where?

       Show me the man, and come he cased in steel,

       In complete panoply and pride of war,

       Ay, guarded by a thousand men-at-arms,

       Yet I shall reach him through their spears, and feel

       The last black drop of blood from his black heart

       Crawl down my blade. Show me the man, I say,

       And I will kill him.

      MORANZONE

      [coldly]

       Fool, what revenge is there?

       Death is the common heritage of all,

       And death comes best when it comes suddenly.