The Duchess of Padua E-Book

Oscar Wilde

• Herausgeber: Caiman
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

ACT I

SCENE

The Market Place of Padua at noon; in the background is the great Cathedral of Padua; the architecture is Romanesque, and wrought in black and white marbles; a flight of marble steps leads up to the Cathedral door; at the foot of the steps are two large stone lions; the houses on each aide of the stage have coloured awnings from their windows, and are flanked by stone arcades; on the right of the stage is the public fountain, with a triton in green bronze blowing from a conch; around the fountain is a stone seat; the bell of the Cathedral is ringing, and the citizens, men, women and children, are passing into the Cathedral.

[Enter Guido Ferranti and Ascanio Cristofano.]

Now by my life, Guido, I will go no farther; for if I walk another step I will have no life left to swear by; this wild-goose errand of yours!

[Sits down on the step of the fountain.]

Guido

I think it must be here.  [Goes up to passer-by and doffs his cap.]  Pray, sir, is this the market place, and that the church of Santa Croce?  [Citizen bows.]  I thank you, sir.

Ascanio

Well?

Guido

Ay! it is here.

Ascanio

I would it were somewhere else, for I see no wine-shop.

Guido

[Taking a letter from his pocket and reading it.]  ‘The hour noon; the city, Padua; the place, the market; and the day, Saint Philip’s Day.’

Ascanio

And what of the man, how shall we know him?

Guido [reading still]

‘I will wear a violet cloak with a silver falcon broidered on the shoulder.’  A brave attire, Ascanio.

Ascanio

I’d sooner have my leathern jerkin.  And you think he will tell you of your father?

Guido

Why, yes!  It is a month ago now, you remember; I was in the vineyard, just at the corner nearest the road, where the goats used to get in, a man rode up and asked me was my name Guido, and gave me this letter, signed ‘Your Father’s Friend,’ bidding me be here to-day if I would know the secret of my birth, and telling me how to recognise the writer!  I had always thought old Pedro was my uncle, but he told me that he was not, but that I had been left a child in his charge by some one he had never since seen.

Ascanio

And you don’t know who your father is?