Lucille Stimson Harbey '09 Townsmen of Fiori
Beppo Marcell Furman Newburg '19 A little boy, son to Guiliana
Rigo Ruth Delepenha '17 Louis Emily Gallagher '21 Little boys, sons to Leonora
Clerk Lucy Madeira Wing '96
Messenger Esther Saville Davis '06
Octavia, Lorenzo's second wife Montgomery Cooper '09
Beatrice, "Rose-Red," Clifford Sellers '21 Daughter to Lorenzo by a former marriage
Bianca, "Snow-White," Lois Duffie '20 Daughter to Octavia by a former marriage
Laura Frances Stout Kellman '17 Carlotta Kathleen Millay Young ex-'21 Francesca Dorothy Comstock '19 Viola Lillian White '18 Lilina Caroline Goodrich '16 Lela Sylvia Brockway '20 Arianna Margaret Hughes '18 Claudia Janet Lane '18 Clara Jeanette Baker '18 Lucia Ellen Hasbrouck '15 Ladies at the Court of Lorenzo
Grazia Eleanor Ray Broeniman '99 Nurse to Beatrice and Bianca
Giulietta, servant to Bianca Virginia Archibold '17 "Little Snow-White" Gretchen Tonks "Little Rose-Red" Joy Macracken '36
Leonora Catherine Barr '20 Giuliana Mabel Hastings Humpstone '94 Clara Olive Remington '19 Giovanitta Caroline Curtis Johnson '83 Anna Frances Haldeman Sidwell '84 Eugenia Helen Hoy Greeley '99 Townsmen of Fiori
Eleanora A little girl, daughter to Leonora
Gilda Ruth Benedict '20 A little girl, sister to Beppo
Adelina, another little girl Maiserie MacCracken '31 Nurse Edith Ward
Pierrot Harlequin Pant Aloon Polichinello Colombine Strolling players
Courtiers, Ladies-in-Waiting, Soldiers, Pages, Musicians, Towns-people, Children
PROLOGUE
[Anselmo and Luigi]
ANSELMO. What think you,--lies there any truth in the tale The King will wed again?
LUIGI. Why not, Anselmo? A king is no less lonely than a collier When his wife dies, And his young daughter there, For all her being a princess, is no less A motherless child, and cries herself to sleep Night after night, as noisily as any, You may be sure.
ANSELMO. A motherless child loves not, They say, the second mother. Though the King May find him comfort in another face,-- As it is well he should--the child, I fancy, Is not so lonely as she is distraught With grief for the dead Queen, and will not lightly Be parted from her tears.
LUIGI. If tales be true, The woman hath a daughter, near the age Of his, will be a playmate for the Princess.
CURTAIN
ACT I
Scene 1
[Scene: A garden of the palace at Fiori; four years later.]
[Discovered seated Laura, Francesca and Fidelio, Laura embroidering, Fidelio strumming his flute, Francesca lost in thought.]
LAURA. You,--Fool! If there be two chords to your lute, Give us the other for a time!
FRANCESCA. And yet, Laura, I somewhat fancied that soft sound he made. 'Twas all on the same tone,--but 'twas a sweet tone.
LAURA. 'Tis like you. As for myself, let music change From time to time, or have done altogether. Sing us the song, Fidelio, that you made Last night,--a song of flowers, and fair skies, And nightingales, and love.
FIDELIO. I know the song. It is a song of winter.
LAURA. How is that?
FIDELIO. Because it is a song of summer set To a sad tune.
FRANCESCA. [Sadly] Ah, well,--so that it be not A song of autumn, I can bear to hear it.
LAURA. In any case, music. I am in a mood for music. I am in a mood where if something be not done To startle me, I shall confess my sins.
[Enter Carlotta.]
CARLOTTA. Ha! I will have that woman yet by the hair!
LAURA. What woman, pray, Carlotta?
CAR. Ho! What woman! Who but that scullery-wench, that onion-monger, That slatternly, pale bakress, that foul witch, The coroneted Fish-Wife of Fiori, Her Majesty, the Queen!
FRA. Hush--hush--Carlotta! You could be put to death for less than that!
CAR. Not I, my duck. When I am put to death 'Twill be for more! Oh, I will have her yet By the hair! [For the first time noticing Fidelio.] Fidelio, if you breathe one word Of this, I will scratch the Princess into ribbons, Whom you love better than your wit.
FID. I' faith, I did but hear you say you are a fish-wife, And all the world knows that.
LAU. Fear not, Carlotta, He is as dumb as a prophet. Every second word He utters, eats the one before it. Speak, But softly.
CAR. Nay,'tis nothing.--Nay, by my head, It is a townful! 'Tis the way she has Of saying "that should be done like this, and this Like that"! The woman stirs me to that point I feel like a carrot in a stew,--I boil so I bump the kettle on all sides!
LAU. My dear, Were you as plump as I you would not dare Become so angry. It would make your stays creak.
CAR. Well, I am done. Fidelio, play me a dirge To put me in good spirits. Merry music Is sure to make me sad.
[Fidelio plays. Pause.]
CAR. 'Tis curious A woman like her should have a child like that-- So gentle and so pretty-mannered. Faith,--
FID. Hush! Hush! Here come the prettiest pair of birds That ever sat together on a bough so close You could not see the sky between. How now, Snow-White and
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