Delphi Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (Illustrated) (12 page)

MORANZONE
When thy mother
Heard my black news, she fell into a swoon,
And, being with untimely travail seized -
Bare thee into the world before thy time,
And then her soul went heavenward, to wait
Thy father, at the gates of Paradise.

GUIDO
A mother dead, a father sold and bartered!
I seem to stand on some beleaguered wall,
And messenger comes after messenger
With a new tale of terror; give me breath,
Mine ears are tired.

MORANZONE
When thy mother died,
Fearing our enemies, I gave it out
Thou wert dead also, and then privily
Conveyed thee to an ancient servitor,
Who by Perugia lived; the rest thou knowest.

GUIDO
Saw you my father afterwards?

MORANZONE
Ay! once;
In mean attire, like a vineyard dresser,
I stole to Rimini.

GUIDO
[taking his hand]
O generous heart!

MORANZONE
One can buy everything in Rimini,
And so I bought the gaolers! when your father
Heard that a man child had been born to him,
His noble face lit up beneath his helm
Like a great fire seen far out at sea,
And taking my two hands, he bade me, Guido,
To rear you worthy of him; so I have reared you
To revenge his death upon the friend who sold him.

GUIDO
Thou hast done well; I for my father thank thee.
And now his name?

MORANZONE
How you remind me of him,
You have each gesture that your father had.

GUIDO
The traitor’s name?

MORANZONE
Thou wilt hear that anon;
The Duke and other nobles at the Court
Are coming hither.

GUIDO
What of that? his name?

MORANZONE
Do they not seem a valiant company
Of honourable, honest gentlemen?

GUIDO
His name, milord?

[Enter the DUKE OF PADUA with COUNT BARDI, MAFFIO, PETRUCCI, and other gentlemen of his Court.]

MORANZONE
[quickly]
The man to whom I kneel
Is he who sold your father! mark me well.

GUIDO
[clutches hit dagger]
The Duke!

MORANZONE
Leave off that fingering of thy knife.
Hast thou so soon forgotten?
[Kneels to the DUKE.]
My noble Lord.

DUKE
Welcome, Count Moranzone; ’tis some time
Since we have seen you here in Padua.
We hunted near your castle yesterday -
Call you it castle? that bleak house of yours
Wherein you sit a-mumbling o’er your beads,
Telling your vices like a good old man.
[Catches sight of GUIDO and starts back.]
Who is that?

MORANZONE
My sister’s son, your Grace,
Who being now of age to carry arms,
Would for a season tarry at your Court

DUKE
[still looking at GUIDO]
What is his name?

MORANZONE
Guido Ferranti, sir.

DUKE
His city?

MORANZONE
He is Mantuan by birth.

DUKE
[advancing towards GUIDO]
You have the eyes of one I used to know,
But he died childless.  Are you honest, boy?
Then be not spendthrift of your honesty,
But keep it to yourself; in Padua
Men think that honesty is ostentatious, so
It is not of the fashion.  Look at these lords.

COUNT BARDI
[aside]
Here is some bitter arrow for us, sure.

DUKE
Why, every man among them has his price,
Although, to do them justice, some of them
Are quite expensive.

COUNT BARDI
[aside]
There it comes indeed.

DUKE
So be not honest; eccentricity
Is not a thing should ever be encouraged,
Although, in this dull stupid age of ours,
The most eccentric thing a man can do
Is to have brains, then the mob mocks at him;
And for the mob, despise it as I do,
I hold its bubble praise and windy favours
In such account, that popularity
Is the one insult I have never suffered.

MAFFIO
[aside]

He has enough of hate, if he needs that.

DUKE
Have prudence; in your dealings with the world
Be not too hasty; act on the second thought,
First impulses are generally good.

GUIDO
[aside]
Surely a toad sits on his lips, and spills its venom there.

DUKE
See thou hast enemies,
Else will the world think very little of thee;
It is its test of power; yet see thou show’st
A smiling mask of friendship to all men,
Until thou hast them safely in thy grip,
Then thou canst crush them.

GUIDO
[aside]
O wise philosopher!
That for thyself dost dig so deep a grave.

MORANZONE
[to him]
Dost thou mark his words?

GUIDO
Oh, be thou sure I do.

DUKE
And be not over-scrupulous; clean hands
With nothing in them make a sorry show.
If you would have the lion’s share of life
You must wear the fox’s skin.  Oh, it will fit you;
It is a coat which fitteth every man.

GUIDO
Your Grace, I shall remember.

DUKE
That is well, boy, well.
I would not have about me shallow fools,
Who with mean scruples weigh the gold of life,
And faltering, paltering, end by failure; failure,
The only crime which I have not committed:
I would have
men
about me.  As for conscience,
Conscience is but the name which cowardice
Fleeing from battle scrawls upon its shield.
You understand me, boy?

GUIDO
I 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
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?