Delphi Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (Illustrated) (13 page)

A CITIZEN
The Duchess of Padua!

END OF ACT I.

ACT I
I

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
The devil take her!

GUIDO
[still at the window]
And followed by a dozen of the citizens
Has come into the Palace.

DUKE
[starting up]
By Saint James,
Our Duchess waxes bold!

BARDI
Here comes the Duchess.

DUKE
Shut that door there; this morning air is cold.
[They close the door on the corridor.]
[Enter the Duchess followed by a crowd of meanly dressed Citizens.]

DUCHESS
[flinging herself upon her knees]
I do beseech your Grace to give us audience.

DUKE
What are these grievances?

DUCHESS
Alas, my Lord,
Such common things as neither you nor I,
Nor any of these noble gentlemen,
Have ever need at all to think about;
They say the bread, the very bread they eat,
Is made of sorry chaff.

FIRST CITIZEN
Ay! so it is,
Nothing but chaff.

DUKE
And very good food too,
I give it to my horses.

DUCHESS
[restraining herself]
They say the water,
Set in the public cisterns for their use,
[Has, through the breaking of the aqueduct,]
To stagnant pools and muddy puddles turned.

DUKE
They should drink wine; water is quite unwholesome.

SECOND CITIZEN
Alack, your Grace, the taxes which the customs
Take at the city gate are grown so high
We cannot buy wine.

DUKE
Then you should bless the taxes
Which make you temperate.

DUCHESS
Think, while we sit
In gorgeous pomp and state, gaunt poverty
Creeps through their sunless lanes, and with sharp knives
Cuts the warm throats of children stealthily
And no word said.

THIRD CITIZEN
Ay! marry, that is true,
My little son died yesternight from hunger;
He was but six years old; I am so poor,
I cannot bury him.

DUKE
If you are poor,
Are you not blessed in that?  Why, poverty
Is one of the Christian virtues,
[Turns to the CARDINAL.]
Is it not?
I know, Lord Cardinal, you have great revenues,
Rich abbey-lands, and tithes, and large estates
For preaching voluntary poverty.

DUCHESS
Nay but, my lord the Duke, be generous;
While we sit here within a noble house
[With shaded porticoes against the sun,
And walls and roofs to keep the winter out]
,
There are many citizens of Padua
Who in vile tenements live so full of holes,
That the chill rain, the snow, and the rude blast,
Are tenants also with them; others sleep
Under the arches of the public bridges
All through the autumn nights, till the wet mist
Stiffens their limbs, and fevers come, and so -

DUKE
And so they go to Abraham’s bosom, Madam.
They should thank me for sending them to Heaven,
If they are wretched here.
[To the CARDINAL.]
Is it not said
Somewhere in Holy Writ, that every man
Should be contented with that state of life
God calls him to?  Why should I change their state,
Or meddle with an all-wise providence,
Which has apportioned that some men should starve,
And others surfeit?  I did not make the world.

FIRST CITIZEN
He hath a hard heart.

SECOND CITIZEN
Nay, be silent, neighbour;
I think the Cardinal will speak for us.

CARDINAL
True, it is Christian to bear misery,
Yet it is Christian also to be kind,
And there seem many evils in this town,
Which in your wisdom might your Grace reform.

FIRST CITIZEN
What is that word reform?  What does it mean?

SECOND CITIZEN
Marry, it means leaving things as they are; I like it not.

DUKE
Reform Lord Cardinal, did
you
say reform?
There is a man in Germany called Luther,
Who would reform the Holy Catholic Church.
Have you not made him heretic, and uttered
Anathema, maranatha, against him?

CARDINAL
[rising from his seat]
He would have led the sheep out of the fold,
We do but ask of you to feed the sheep.

DUKE
When I have shorn their fleeces I may feed them.
As for these rebels -
[DUCHESS entreats him.]

FIRST CITIZEN
That is a kind word,
He means to give us something.

SECOND CITIZEN
Is that so?

DUKE
These ragged knaves who come before us here,
With mouths chock-full of treason.

THIRD CITIZEN
Good my Lord,
Fill up our mouths with bread; we’ll hold our tongues.

DUKE
Ye shall hold your tongues, whether you starve or not.
My lords, this age is so familiar grown,
That the low peasant hardly doffs his hat,
Unless you beat him; and the raw mechanic
Elbows the noble in the public streets.
[To the Citizens.]
Still as our gentle Duchess has so prayed us,
And to refuse so beautiful a beggar
Were to lack both courtesy and love,
Touching your grievances, I promise this -

FIRST CITIZEN
Marry, he will lighten the taxes!

SECOND CITIZEN
Or a dole of bread, think you, for each man?

DUKE
That, on next Sunday, the Lord Cardinal
Shall, after Holy Mass, preach you a sermon
Upon the Beauty of Obedience.
[Citizens murmur.]

FIRST CITIZEN
I’ faith, that will not fill our stomachs!

SECOND CITIZEN
A sermon is but a sorry sauce, when
You have nothing to eat with it.

DUCHESS
Poor people,
You see I have no power with the Duke,
But if you go into the court without,
My almoner shall from my private purse,
Divide a hundred ducats ‘mongst you all.

FIRST CITIZEN
God save the Duchess, say I.

SECOND CITIZEN
God save her.

DUCHESS
And every Monday morn shall bread be set
For those who lack it.
[Citizens applaud and go out.]

FIRST CITIZEN
[going out]
Why, God save the Duchess again!

DUKE
[calling him back]
Come hither, fellow! what is your name?

FIRST CITIZEN
Dominick, sir.

DUKE
A good name!  Why were you called Dominick?

FIRST CITIZEN
[scratching his head]
Marry, because I was born on St. George’s day.

DUKE
A good reason! here is a ducat for you!
Will you not cry for me God save the Duke?

FIRST CITIZEN
[feebly]
God save the Duke.

DUKE
Nay! louder, fellow, louder.

FIRST CITIZEN
[a little louder]
God save the Duke!

DUKE
More lustily, fellow, put more heart in it!
Here is another ducat for you.

FIRST CITIZEN
[enthusiastically]
God save the Duke!

DUKE
[mockingly]
Why, gentlemen, this simple fellow’s love
Touches me much. 
[To the Citizen, harshly.]
Go! 
[Exit Citizen, bowing.]
This is the way, my lords,
You can buy popularity nowadays.
Oh, we are nothing if not democratic!
[To the DUCHESS.]
Well, Madam,
You spread rebellion ‘midst our citizens.

DUCHESS
My Lord, the poor have rights you cannot touch,
The right to pity, and the right to mercy.

DUKE
So, so, you argue with me?  This is she,
The gentle Duchess for whose hand I yielded
Three of the fairest towns in Italy,
Pisa, and Genoa, and Orvieto.

DUCHESS
Promised, my Lord, not yielded: in that matter
Brake you your word as ever.

DUKE
You wrong us, Madam,
There were state reasons.

DUCHESS
What state reasons are there
For breaking holy promises to a state?

DUKE
There are wild boars at Pisa in a forest
Close to the city: when I promised Pisa
Unto your noble and most trusting father,
I had forgotten there was hunting there.
At Genoa they say,
Indeed I doubt them not, that the red mullet
Runs larger in the harbour of that town
Than anywhere in Italy.
[Turning to one of the Court.]
You, my lord,
Whose gluttonous appetite is your only god,
Could satisfy our Duchess on that point.

DUCHESS
And Orvieto?

DUKE
[yawning]
I cannot now recall
Why I did not surrender Orvieto
According to the word of my contract.
Maybe it was because I did not choose.
[Goes over to the DUCHESS.]
Why look you, Madam, you are here alone;
’Tis many a dusty league to your grey France,
And even there your father barely keeps
A hundred ragged squires for his Court.
What hope have you, I say?  Which of these lords
And noble gentlemen of Padua
Stands by your side.

DUCHESS
There is not one.

[GUIDO starts, but restrains himself.]

DUKE
Nor shall be,
While I am Duke in Padua: listen, Madam,
Being mine own, you shall do as I will,
And if it be my will you keep the house,
Why then, this palace shall your prison be;
And if it be my will you walk abroad,
Why, you shall take the air from morn to night.

DUCHESS
Sir, by what right -?

DUKE
Madam, my second Duchess
Asked the same question once: her monument
Lies in the chapel of Bartholomew,
Wrought in red marble; very beautiful.
Guido, your arm.  Come, gentlemen, let us go
And spur our falcons for the mid-day chase.
Bethink you, Madam, you are here alone.
[Exit the DUKE leaning on GUIDO, with his Court.]

DUCHESS
[looking after them]
The Duke said rightly that I was alone;
Deserted, and dishonoured, and defamed,
Stood ever woman so alone indeed?
Men when they woo us call us pretty children,
Tell us we have not wit to make our lives,
And so they mar them for us.  Did I say woo?
We are their chattels, and their common slaves,
Less dear than the poor hound that licks their hand,
Less fondled than the hawk upon their wrist.
Woo, did I say? bought rather, sold and bartered,
Our very bodies being merchandise.
I know it is the general lot of women,
Each miserably mated to some man
Wrecks her own life upon his selfishness:
That it is general makes it not less bitter.
I think I never heard a woman laugh,
Laugh for pure merriment, except one woman,
That was at night time, in the public streets.
Poor soul, she walked with painted lips, and wore
The mask of pleasure: I would not laugh like her;
No, death were better.
[Enter GUIDO behind unobserved; the DUCHESS flings herself down before a picture of the Madonna.]
O Mary mother, with your sweet pale face
Bending between the little angel heads
That hover round you, have you no help for me?
Mother of God, have you no help for me?