The Duchess of Padua | Page 5

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