The Duchess of Padua E-Book

Oscar Wilde

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 114

Beschreibung

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 today 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.

Leseprobe

The Duchess of Padua

The Duchess of PaduaTHE PERSONS OF THE PLAYACT IACT IIACT IIIACT IVACT VCopyright

The Duchess of Padua

Oscar Wilde

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

Simone Gesso, Duke of PaduaBeatrice, his WifeAndreas Pollajuolo, Cardinal of PaduaMaffio Petrucci, Jeppo Vitellozzo, Taddeo Bardi } Gentlemen of the Duke’s HouseholdGuido Ferranti, a Young ManAscanio Cristofano, his FriendCount Moranzone, an Old ManBernardo Cavalcanti, Lord Justice of PaduaHugo, the HeadsmanLucy, a Tire womanServants, Citizens, Soldiers, Monks, Falconers with their hawks and dogs, etc.Place:PaduaTime:The latter half of the Sixteenth CenturyTHE SCENES OF THE PLAY Act I.The Market Place of Padua(25minutes).Act II.Room in the Duke’s Palace(36minutes).Act III.Corridor in the Duke’s Palace(29minutes).Act IV.The Hall of Justice(31minutes).Act V.The Dungeon(25minutes).Style of Architecture: Italian, Gothic and Romanesque.

ACT I

SCENEThe 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.[EnterGuido FerrantiandAscanio 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.]GuidoI 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.AscanioWell?GuidoAy! it is here.AscanioI 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.’AscanioAnd 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.AscanioI’d sooner have my leathern jerkin.  And you think he will tell you of your father?GuidoWhy, 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 today 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.AscanioAnd you don’t know who your father is?GuidoNo.AscanioNo recollection of him even?GuidoNone, Ascanio, none.Ascanio [laughing]Then he could never have boxed your ears so often as my father did mine.Guido [smiling]I am sure you never deserved it.AscanioNever; and that made it worse.  I hadn’t the consciousness of guilt to buoy me up.  What hour did you say he fixed?GuidoNoon.[Clock in the Cathedral strikes.]AscanioIt is that now, and your man has not come.  I don’t believe in him, Guido.  I think it is some wench who has set her eye at you; and, as I have followed you from Perugia to Padua, I swear you shall follow me to the nearest tavern.  [Rises.]  By the great gods of eating, Guido, I am as hungry as a widow is for a husband, as tired as a young maid is of good advice, and as dry as a monk’s sermon.  Come, Guido, you stand there looking at nothing, like the fool who tried to look into his own mind; your man will not come.GuidoWell, I suppose you are right.  Ah!  [Just as he is leaving the stage withAscanio,enterLord Moranzonein a violet cloak,with a silver falcon broidered on the shoulder;he passes across to the Cathedral,and just as he is going inGuidoruns up and touches him.]MoranzoneGuido Ferranti, thou hast come in time.GuidoWhat!  Does my father live?MoranzoneAy! lives in thee.Thou art the same in mould and lineament,Carriage and form, and outward semblances;I trust thou art in noble mind the same.GuidoOh, tell me of my father; I have livedBut for this moment.MoranzoneWe must be alone.GuidoThis is my dearest friend, who out of loveHas followed me to Padua; as two brothers,There is no secret which we do not share.MoranzoneThere is one secret which ye shall not share;Bid him go hence.Guido [toAscanio]Come back within the hour.He does not know that nothing in this worldCan dim the perfect mirror of our love.Within the hour come.AscanioSpeak not to him,There is a dreadful terror in his look.Guido [laughing]Nay, nay, I doubt not that he has come to tellThat I am some great Lord of Italy,And we will have long days of joy together.Within the hour, dear Ascanio.[ExitAscanio.]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 sometimesFull of low music; or a clarion was itThat brake with terror all his enemies?Did he ride singly? or with many squiresAnd valiant gentlemen to serve his state?For oftentimes methinks I feel my veinsBeat with the blood of kings.  Was he a king?MoranzoneAy, of all men he was the kingliest.Guido [proudly]Then when you saw my noble father lastHe was set high above the heads of men?MoranzoneAy, he was high above the heads of men,[Walks over toGuidoand puts his hand upon his shoulder.]On a red scaffold, with a butcher’s blockSet 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?MoranzoneI am known here as the Count Moranzone,Lord of a barren castle on a rock,With a few acres of unkindly landAnd six not thrifty servants.  But I was oneOf Parma’s noblest princes; more than that,I was your father’s friend.Guido [clasping his hand]Tell me of him.MoranzoneYou are the son of that great Duke Lorenzo,He was the Prince of Parma, and the DukeOf all the fair domains of LombardyDown to the gates of Florence; nay, Florence evenWas wont to pay him tribute—GuidoCome to his death.MoranzoneYou will hear that soon enough.  Being at war—O noble lion of war, that would not sufferInjustice done in Italy!—he ledThe very flower of chivalry againstThat 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?MoranzoneNo, he is dead.GuidoDid 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.GuidoSold! was my father sold?MoranzoneAy! trafficked for,Like a vile chattel, for a price betrayed,Bartered and bargained for in privy marketBy 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—GuidoAnd he livesWho sold my father?MoranzoneI will bring you to him.GuidoSo, Judas, thou art living! well, I will makeThis world thy field of blood, so buy it straight-way,For thou must hang there.MoranzoneJudas said you, boy?Yes, Judas in his treachery, but stillHe was more wise than Judas was, and heldThose thirty silver pieces not enough.GuidoWhat got he for my father’s blood?MoranzoneWhat got he?Why cities, fiefs, and principalities,Vineyards, and lands.GuidoOf which he shall but keepSix 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 feelThe last black drop of blood from his black heartCrawl 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.[Goes up close toGuido.]Your father was betrayed, there is your cue;For you shall sell the seller in his turn.I will make you of his household, you shall sitAt the same board with him, eat of his bread—GuidoO bitter bread!MoranzoneThy palate is too nice,Revenge will make it sweet.  Thou shalt o’ nightsPledge him in wine, drink from his cup, and beHis intimate, so he will fawn on thee,Love thee, and trust thee in all secret things.If he bid thee be merry thou must laugh,And if it be his humour to be sadThou shalt don sables.  Then when the time is ripe—[Guidoclutches his sword.]Nay, nay, I trust thee not; your hot young blood,Undisciplined nature, and too violent rageWill never tarry for this great revenge,But wreck itself on passion.GuidoThou knowest me not.Tell me the man, and I in everythingWill do thy bidding.MoranzoneWell, when the time is ripe,The victim trusting and the occasion sure,I will by sudden secret messengerSend thee a sign.GuidoHow shall I kill him, tell me?MoranzoneThat night thou shalt creep into his private chamber;But if he sleep see that thou wake him first,And hold thy hand upon his throat, ay! that way,Then having told him of what blood thou art,Sprung from what father, and for what revenge,Bid him to pray for mercy; when he prays,Bid him to set a price upon his life,And when he strips himself of all his goldTell him thou needest not gold, and hast not mercy,And do thy business straight away.  Swear to meThou wilt not kill him till I bid thee do it,Or else I go to mine own house, and leaveThee ignorant, and thy father unavenged.GuidoNow by my father’s sword—MoranzoneThe common hangmanBrake that in sunder in the public square.GuidoThen by my father’s grave—MoranzoneWhat grave? what grave?Your noble father lieth in no grave,I saw his dust strewn on the air, his ashesWhirled through the windy streets like common strawsTo plague a beggar’s eyesight, and his head,That gentle head, set on the prison spike,For the vile rabble in their insolenceTo shoot their tongues at.GuidoWas it so indeed?Then by my father’s spotless memory,And by the shameful manner of his death,And by the base betrayal by his friend,For these at least remain, by these I swearI will not lay my hand upon his lifeUntil you bid me, then—God help his soul,For he shall die as never dog died yet.And now, the sign, what is it?MoranzoneThis dagger, boy;It was your father’s.GuidoOh, let me look at it!I do remember now my reputed uncle,That good old husbandman I left at home,Told me a cloak wrapped round me when a babeBare too such yellow leopards wrought in gold;I like them best in steel, as they are here,They suit my purpose better.  Tell me, sir,Have you no message from my father to me?MoranzonePoor boy, you never saw that noble father,For when by his false friend he had been sold,Alone of all his gentlemen I escapedTo bear the news to Parma to the Duchess.GuidoSpeak to me of my mother.MoranzoneWhen thy motherHeard 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 waitThy father, at the gates of Paradise.GuidoA mother dead, a father sold and bartered!I seem to stand on some beleaguered wall,And messenger comes after messengerWith a new tale of terror; give me breath,Mine ears are tired.MoranzoneWhen thy mother died,Fearing our enemies, I gave it outThou wert dead also, and then privilyConveyed thee to an ancient servitor,Who by Perugia lived; the rest thou knowest.GuidoSaw you my father afterwards?MoranzoneAy! once;In mean attire, like a vineyard dresser,I stole to Rimini.Guido [taking his hand]O generous heart!MoranzoneOne can buy everything in Rimini,And so I bought the gaolers! when your fatherHeard that a man child had been born to him,His noble face lit up beneath his helmLike 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