Карло Гольдони
The Comedies of Carlo Goldoni
Count. I am this day to sign the contract, and think myself fortunate that you, Signor Marquis, will be present, and —
Marq. Very happy – but, at the same time, if you would be so kind —
Count. You well know, Signor Marquis, the various expenses of these occasions; they are endless. To own the truth, I find my pocket empty.
Marq. Good, good, excellent!
Count. Good! I find it exceedingly ill.
Marq. Listen – You are the friend of Madame Araminta.
Count. True; and she, for example, is remarkably rich; she might be of service to your house.
Marq. Precisely so – my very thought – would you but speak to her, but without – What is her daughter's name?
Count. Eleonora.
Marq. True – bad memory – Eleonora.
Count. [Aside.] If I had not a great deal of penetration, I could never guess what he means. – [Aloud.] I will speak privately to Madame Araminta.
Marq. Ay, but – in a particular manner – so that – you understand me?
Count. I will speak with all possible caution, and hope she will comply – provided she has good security.
Marq. By Jove! If she gives me – I have not – I am not – but – my estates —
Count. What sum do you wish?
Marq. I heard that – ay – a hundred thousand crowns – quite satisfied! – would not wish for more!
Count. [Aside.] A hundred thousand crowns! the loan is too great! She will scarcely consent to that.
Marq. When will you speak? Because when I have a project – no sooner said than done – it is in my nature.
Count. I will inform her to-day.
Marq. And you hope she – Good, good, excellent!
Count. I think Madame Araminta will comply, if possible; first out of regard to yourself, and next to me, who am on the point of becoming her son-in-law.
Marq. Ha! – what? – you? —
Count. I am to marry her daughter.
Marq. Marry! – when? – that true? – that possible?
Count. Why so excessively surprised, Signor Marquis? Do you see any reason to the contrary?
Marq. I – no – [Aside.] My son! – Fine affair! – Stupid folly!
Count. Madame Araminta intends indeed to give a hundred thousand crowns with her daughter, but do you think she will therefore not have so large a sum to lend you?
Marq. Lend me! – Zounds! – Lend me!
Scene X
The Chevalier, making signs of disappointment and silence to the Marquis, enters and goes off without being seen by the Count.
Count. But, if you please, I will speak to her.
Marq. [To the Chevalier.] Yes, yes, I understand.
Count. [Supposing the answer was to himself.] And will tell her —
Marq. By no means – don't think – no, no.
Count. Yes and no! I do not understand you, Signor.
Marq. Lend me! – to me? – I am – it is true – but then I am not – Good, good, excellent! – I am not —
Count. If you will excuse me, I have business. Those are your apartments. – [Aside.] I never met such a ridiculous man.
[Exit.
Marq. The devil take him – he doesn't know what he is talking of.
[Exit.
END OF THE THIRD ACT
ACT IV
Scene I. —The Chevalier and Fiorillo
Chev. While my father rests, I will visit my sister; tell him this, when he wakes.
Fior. Yes, Signor.
Chev. Do you know whether the Count is at home?
Fior. Yes; I saw him just now going to speak with Madame Dorimene.
Chev. [Aside.] Surely he is not a rival to be feared. At least, I am secure of the heart of Eleonora, and will not yet despair of gaining her mother.
[Exit.
Fior. So, young gentleman! I see how it is with you. I pretty well guess your intentions, and how they are thwarted. Ay, ay, I shall have enough to satisfy the curiosity of Frontino. [Sits down near the door of his master's rooms.]
Scene II. —Enter Count
Count. [Not seeing Fiorillo.] I am tired, bored! Nothing but indifference; and, instead of perfect satisfaction, something like contempt. A man like me, who had but to choose! so advantageous a marriage! [Seeing Fiorillo.] Is the Marquis at home?
Fior. Yes, Signor; being rather fatigued with travelling, he is taking a nap.
Count. [Aside.] How amiable is his daughter! How charming! I felt affected and confused at the courtesy and kindness with which she and her aunt received me. The visit made me cheerful, happy, and reconciled to myself. What difference between the politeness of these ladies and the common and trivial manner of Araminta and her daughter; who neither understand civility nor good breeding. Ah! were the young Marchioness but as rich as she is handsome and engaging – who knows? I have a thought – should her father but be reasonable and easy to manage – Here he comes.
Scene III. —Enter the Marquis
Marq. [Rubbing his eyes and calling.] Fiorillo!
Fior. Signor?
Marq. My son?
Fior. He is gone out.
Marq. Why did not he – where is he gone?
Fior. To visit the Marchioness, his sister.
Marq. I too wish – my coach!
Fior. The horses, Signor —
Marq. [Angry.] Good, good, excellent! My coach!
Fior. I will go and see.
[Exit.
Scene IV. —The Count and the Marquis
Count. Do you wish to go out, Signor Marquis?
Marq. See my daughter – much to say – tell her – Good, good, excellent!
Count. I have just had that honour. It was long since I had seen her. She fully answers the charming promise of her childhood; her sweetness has increased with her years, and the progress of her talents is wonderful. Permit me to congratulate you on possessing such a treasure.
Marq. Oh, Count – ay, ay; a good girl. She has not, let us confess it – but – character, manners – good, good, excellent!
Count. With such talents, so much merit, and blooming eighteen, you should think of a husband for her.
Marq. No doubt. For my part, I —apropos: what has just passed – what did you mean to say when – Did you not say lend me?
Count. It appears to me that you suddenly changed your opinion.
Marq. I tell you, no – it was not so. You have not – And yet I spoke plainly.
Count. In any case, Signor Marquis, I shall be happy to serve you. I have not spoken to Madame Araminta; for, to own the truth, I am not quite pleased with her daughter. I begin to feel a certain dislike.
Marq. Oh, oh! – That means – Well, why not?
Count. I have done everything to gain their esteem and friendship. A house so richly furnished, carriages and horses the most rare, diamonds worth a hundred thousand livres —
Marq. Is it possible?
Count. 'Tis true; they were shown. Madame Araminta was amazed.
Marq. Grand! – Superb! – Good, good, excellent!
Count. Injustice and ingratitude have been my reward.
Marq. Good, good, excellent!
Count. [Aside.] Curse the phrase!
Marq. [Aside.] In that case – if Eleonora – if my son – [Aloud.] If so, Signor Count – candour – frankly and freely tell them – You understand me? Cut matters short.
Count. Had I paid these attentions to a lady of rank and merit, I should have acted much more wisely.
Marq. Ay, ay – if – certainly.
Count. Do you think a man of rank and fashion, a man like yourself for example, would refuse me the hand of his daughter?
Marq. On the contrary. A person of worth – a person that – oh, what do you mean? Certainly not.
Count. Signor Marquis, you encourage me.
Marq. Oh, I – If so – I'll go this moment!
Count. Where, signor?
Marq. To my daughter. [Calls.] Fiorillo!
Count. And may I hope?
Marq. [Calls louder.] Fiorillo!
Scene V. —Enter Fiorillo
Marq. My coach.
Fior. The coachman is not here, Signor.
Marq. How so? [To the Count.] Can you lend me – ? Soon return.
Count. It is not a hundred yards; you can easily walk.
Marq. Walk! – Hundred yards! – Enough – Adieu – Soon be back. [Going.] Diamonds! A hundred thousand livres!
[Exit with Fiorillo.
Scene VI. —The Count, then Frontino
Count. Courage! The Marquis is enraptured; the daughter's won. All goes well. But I must not lose sight of – [Calls.] Frontino! No, no; she must not get possession of the jewels. Frontino! I say!
Front. [Entering.] I was busy in planning the dessert.
Count. Go immediately, and tell my sister I beg her to come here; I have something interesting to communicate. And add, but in a whisper, that I request she will bring me the jewels which I committed to her care.
Front. But the supper, signor? I must be everywhere, and look to all!
Count. True. Is everything prepared?
Front. According to your wishes; two essentials excepted.
Count. Which are – ?
Front. Coffee and liqueurs.
Count. Liqueurs inflame the blood.
Front. But coffee?
Count. Blockhead! Coffee at night! It prevents sleep.
Front. Surely, Signor! – Not give coffee! Forfeit your character as a liberal host, for such a trifling expense?
Count. Go, Mr. Liberality; do what I bid you.
Front. [Aside.] No coffee! I would rather pay for it out of my own pocket. Yet no; he would even swear I had filched the money from other articles.
[Exit.
Scene VII. – Count alone
Count. Dreadful! Luxury is come to such a height! Thank Heaven, I have not spent one farthing from whim or caprice. I always pay money with prudence and circumspection. I do not yet know the character of the Marchioness; but, being once the Countess of Casteldoro, I will teach her my method; which is to esteem myself, and to despise and laugh at other people.
Scene VIII. —Enter Dorimene
Dor. I am told you want me, brother.
Count. Pardon this liberty. Where are the diamonds?
Dor. Here. Do you want them back?
Count. [Taking them.] Yes, yes; you shall know why.
Dor. You need not take the trouble to tell me, for it is not possible to persuade Eleonora to accept them.
Count. So much the worse for her; she will repent. I have a secret to tell you.
Dor. You know how greatly I am interested in your happiness.
Count. I have seen the Marchioness del Bosco, and have great reason to believe that, whenever I please, I may obtain her hand.
Dor. Indeed! What will the Marquis say?
Count. Oh, he will say, "Good, good, excellent!" I am sure of him.
Dor. You know the disorder of his affairs. Will you marry her without a portion?
Count. Oh, no. Thank Heaven, I have not lost my wits.
Dor. What will you do, then?
Count. Listen and learn. First, let me tell you, I am neither blind nor foolish. I perceive the affections of Eleonora are given to another, and I do not think I am greatly mistaken when I suppose the Chevalier her favourite. Omitting to notice the impertinence of father and son, in visiting me under the mask of friendship, I must tell you it may contribute to aid my project, which is this. Let you and me persuade Madame Araminta to give her daughter, with a hundred thousand crowns, to the Chevalier, on condition that his father receive the money, and that he redeem all his mortgages. I will request the Marchioness, his daughter, from him; with these said lands, and, by this means, the son and daughter will both be gratified, and the Marquis will not disburse a guinea. What say you, sister; is not the plan a good one?
Dor. Well imagined, but difficult to execute.
Count. Do not fear; all will be right. The Marquis is gone purposely in search of his daughter. I will join them, and I have no doubt all will be concluded this very day. These jewels – may be of – Sister, you shall see wonders.
[Exit.
Dor. What does he mean? But, if every one be made happy, I shall be the same.
Scene IX. —Enter Eleonora
Eleon. [At the door, timidly.] Are you alone, Signora?
Dor. I am, my dear; come in.
Eleon. My mother is busy, writing —
Dor. Have you anything to tell me?
Eleon. Forgive my curiosity; have you taken away the jewels.
Dor. Yes; the Count asked for them. Are you vexed?
Eleon. On the contrary, delighted.
Dor. Then you are averse to diamonds?
Eleon. Not at all; but – You know my secret.
Dor. There are things in expectation, my dear —
Eleon. What, what? Ease my heart, if possible.
Dor. My brother feels you do not love him.
Eleon. That I can easily believe.
Dor. And suspects the Chevalier.
Eleon. Heavens! He will tell my mother!
Dor. Your mother, my dear, must and ought to know it; and you ought to conquer your inclinations.
Eleon. Conquer! Oh, it is not possible!
Dor. I love you, as you know, but cannot —
Eleon. [Suddenly, and looking off.] Ha! I must go.
Dor. What is the matter?
Eleon. [Going.] Don't you see the Chevalier?
Dor. Yes, yes; you are right. Begone!
Eleon. [Aside, and slowly going.] I die to stay.
Scene X. —Enter the Chevalier
Chev. Signora – [Discovering Eleonora.] Heavens! does Eleonora see me, and yet go? [His eyes fixed on Eleonora.]
Dor. Your pleasure, Signor? [Turns and sees Eleonora not gone.] Young lady, your mother expects you.
Eleon. [Timidly.] Pardon me, I would speak one word.
Dor. Well, speak. Make haste!
Eleon. [Gradually approaching.] The jewels will not be returned?
Dor. I do not fear the return of the jewels.
Chev. Ladies, if I incommode you, I'll be gone.
Dor. [A little angry.] As you please, Signor.
Chev. [Going slowly aside.] This treatment is severe.
Dor. [Ironically.] Well, Mademoiselle, have you anything more to say?
Eleon. No, Signora; but – What offence has the Chevalier committed?
Dor. Really, my dear, you make me smile.
Eleon. I – I cannot smile.
Chev. [Returning after looking into his fathers apartment.] My father is not there.
Dor. You will find him at your aunt's.
Chev. I just came from there; my aunt and sister are gone out.
Dor. [More angry.] Young lady!
Eleon. [Mortified and curtseying; her eyes fixed on the Chevalier.] Pardon me.
Dor. [Ironically.] Excellent, upon my word!
Scene XI. —Enter Araminta
Aram. [Surprised, aside.] Ah, ha! – [Aloud.] The milliner is waiting, daughter: go and look at what she has brought.
[Exit Eleonora, mortified.
Aram. Pray stay, Chevalier: I would speak with you.
Dor. Ay, pray do; it is right I should justify myself before you. I see, Madame, that you know something of what is going on; but I assure you I am no party concerned, and that, although this meeting was accidental, I am sorry it should have occurred.
Aram. [Kindly taking her hand.] I know you, Madame.
Chev. I am sorry, ladies, if my presence —
Aram. [Softly to Dorimene.] Be so kind as to follow my daughter. Poor child! I vex her sometimes, but I love her dearly! Try to console her.
Dor. Most willingly, madam.
[Exit.
Scene XII. – Araminta and the Chevalier
Chev. I did not think, Signora, that my conduct —
Aram. Let us speak plainly, Signor. What are your pretensions to my daughter?
Chev. Oh, could I but hope to merit her hand —
Aram. Nothing could be desired better than you: your birth, character, and conduct are all in your favour: and I should think it an honour to call you my son. Permit me only to say that the affairs of your family —
Chev. I own it. My father is the best of men, but has been greatly misled.
Aram. Then, being sensible of this truth, you, better than any person, should be aware of the confusion and distress which might be brought on a young woman, of a good family, and with no contemptible fortune. Would you willingly expose this fortune to the evident danger of being ill managed, and soon dissipated?
Chev. Hear me but a moment; I will speak frankly. I have spent some years in the army, which I have been obliged to quit, because I could not properly support my birth and military rank. Returning home, I have lived privately, without complaint, and concealing my situation. A family friend, interesting himself in my behalf, suggested that a proper marriage might enable me to appear again at my post, and thus excited me to mix with the world, and declare my purpose. I heard of you, Madame, of your daughter's merit, and of the fortune which she was to have. I saw her, and was so enraptured by her charms and mental qualities, that every interested motive instantly ceased, and love alone took possession of my heart. I then, indeed, wished I were rich, and deeply felt the distress of my family. My friends saw my distress, pitied me, would not forsake me, spoke of your goodness, and encouraged me respectfully to declare myself and my hopes. I listened to their advice, or rather to love; and hoped that gratitude and respect would, some time, acquire for me a daughter's love, and a kind mother's consent.
Aram. I approve your candour; yet, do not hope I can give you my daughter, though I am greatly affected by your situation, and disposed to favour you, as far as prudence will permit.
Chev. Your goodness consoles me; but, O heavens! do you refuse me that precious gift, your daughter?
Aram. You must not hope to have her, Signor. It may be ten years before you are in a state to marry. Live in freedom, and leave my daughter to her destiny. If you approve it, thus much I offer. I will lend you the sum necessary to purchase military rank, and even a regiment; depending for repayment upon circumstances, and your word of honour.
Chev. I may die, Madame.
Aram. And I may lose my money; but not the recollection of having done justice to merit, and a worthy gentleman.
Chev. Noble generosity! Yet – your daughter —
Aram. I speak absolutely – you must not think of her.
Chev. Surely it is possible that love and constancy —
Aram. Let us see, what sum will you want? You have friends?
Chev. A few.
Aram. I may increase the number. Let us retire where we can speak more freely.
Chev. Wherever you please. [Calls.] Fiorillo!
Aram. Poor youth! The victim of his father's imbecility.
[Exit.
Scene XIII. —Enter Fiorillo
Chev. Listen, Fiorillo! Tell my father – Here he comes. I have not time to speak to him. Say I am with Madame Dorimene.
[Exit.
Fior. With the ladies! He is unusually gay. Perhaps his affairs have taken a lucky turn.
Scene XIV. —Enter the Marquis
Marq. Well, the coachman – A rascal! – Returned yet?
Fior. The coachman is not to blame, Signor.
Marq. How so? I am – Good, good, excellent! – Had they gone out?
Fior. Who, Signor?
Marq. My daughter, and – What did the dog say? – Yes, at once – To the devil!
Fior. You should not be angry, Signor. I met him loaded like a porter: his horses were hungry and restive, he went to buy corn.
Marq. How? Very fine – The Count – The stables —
Fior. Ah, yes, none can be finer; but without a single oat, nor dares the coachman buy any, without an express order from his master. Oh, the miser!
Marq. Who? Who? Good, good, excellent! A miser!
Fior. There is not such another on earth.
Marq. Who, I say? Blockhead! Fool! The Count – a man! – Go, go, numskull!
Fior. Everybody I have spoken with, in the house and out of the house, servants, tradesmen, or neighbours, all say the same. Nay, Frontino, his chief favourite, can stay with him no longer.
Marq. How! Could it be? – He refused me his coach?
Fior. From avarice. He walks, for fear of tiring his horses.
Marq. But – a hundred thousand livres in diamonds!
Fior. Do you mean the jewels he has showed to his bride —
Marq. Well?
Fior. And which he will never pay for. Frontino told me they were not bought, but borrowed.
Marq. Borrowed! Damn! Good, good, excellent! – an underhand miser – hypocrite! Damn, damn! A fellow – odious – despicable – My daughter? – Oaf! Sup with him? – Great feast – No oats for the horses – Go and see the poor beasts.
Fior. Not that way, Signor. The stables are in the other court.
Marq. Double court – No corn – Great palace – No oats for his horses!
[Exeunt.
ACT V
Scene I. —The Count and Frontino
Count. Make haste! Place and light those candles, that there may be a splendid illumination!
Front. But I want help, Signor.
Count. Pshaw! Thy activity and talents, Frontino, are quite sufficient.
Front. [Aside.] So much for compliments.
Count. I am vexed at again not finding the Marchioness and her aunt at home. Surely they will come to supper. See how the candles waste; shut the doors and windows.
Front. The evening is so warm!
Count. No matter; do as I bid you.
Front. [Aside.] He has odd modes of saving.
Count. I feel myself quite animated. The supper grand! The illumination grand! The – Some of my guests, and those not mean ones, will acknowledge and do justice to my dessert. I grant the expense is great; but expense, if it is properly incurred, can be borne once in a while. – [To Frontino.] Should any one ask for me, I am here with the Marquis. – [To himself.] Let me but finish affairs with him, and the difficulty with his daughter will be but little.
Scene II. – Frontino, and then Fiorillo
Front. [Calls.] Fiorillo!
Fior. [Entering.] Here am I. What do you want?
Front. [Giving him a light.] Help me to light the candles.
Fior. Willingly. [Both lighting and chatting at the same time.]
Front. Gently! gently! Mind how you turn that chandelier; the candles are only short bits fastened on coloured sticks.
Fior. Do not fear. I hope we shall sup together?
Front. Should anything be left. The dishes are large; the contents small.
Fior. We shall have a bottle at least?
Front. Zounds! if we have, I must pay for it.
Fior. Among so many, how can one be missed?
Front. I will tell you. The Count has a certain number of coloured pellets in his pocket. He draws them out one by one as the bottles are emptied.
Fior. Oh, the devil!
Front. [Seeing the Count return.] Hush!
Scene III. —Enter the Count
Count. [Angry and aside.] Could such a thing be expected? A man of my rank and riches? Rudeness so great! Contempt so visible! Tell me his daughter is not for me! Will not come to supper, and then to sneer and laugh at me! He too! – so weak and foolish! Talk of nothing but oats; a reiteration of oats, oats! – [To Fiorillo haughtily.] Your master wants you. Go!
Fior. I have had the honour of helping my comrade, Signor.
Count. Have the complaisance now to help yourself, and be gone.
[Exit Fiorillo.
Scene IV. —The Count and Frontino
Front. [Aside.] We shall have bad weather; there is something new in the wind.
Count. [To himself.] What a blockhead was I! Absurd design! Is not money worth more than ruined antiquity? Oh yes! I will marry the captious beauty; marry her in despite of her and of myself. No more attentions; no more respectfulness; no more complaisance for any one. – [To Frontino.] Put out the lights.
Front. Put them out, Signor?
Count. Do as you are bid! Make haste!
Front. Very pretty! [Begins to extinguish.]
Count. [Aside.] Deceive me! Laugh at me! Once more for Madame Araminta. – [To Frontino.] Will you never have done? [Puts out some candles with his hat.]
Front. But the supper? Everything ready.
Count. How many dishes?
Front. I have brought out all the silver, as you ordered; and large and small, though most of the last, there will be forty.
Count. [Putting out a candle.] They will last forty days.
Front. But, Signor —
Count. Silence babbler! [Puts out the last, and they are in the dark.]
Front. So, here we are, and here we may stay.
Count. Why did you put out the last candle?
Front. I do not think it was I, Signor.
Count. Go for a light.
Front. Nay, but how to find the door.
Count. Stop! stop! I hear somebody.
Scene V. —The stage dark. Enter Fiorillo
Fior. What can this mean? All in total darkness! Perhaps there will be no supper?
Front. [Aside to the Count.] I think it is Fiorillo.
Count. [Softly, and holding Frontino by the arm.] Stay where you are, and speak as if I were gone. – [Aside.] I may make some discovery.
Fior. [Stumbling on Frontino.] Who is there?
Front. 'Tis I.
Fior. Frontino! Why have you put out the lights?
Front. Because – because it was too early.
Fior. 'Sblood! Your master is a miser indeed.
Front. How? Jackanapes! My master a miser!
Fior. Why, you told me so yourself.
Count. Ah, rascal! [Shaking Frontino.]
Front. Oh, the liar! I capable of —
Fior. Hold your tongue, and listen patiently. I have thought of a way by which you may crib a bottle of wine, in spite of the pellets.
Front. Vile cheat! What are you talking about?
Fior. Really, my dear Frontino, you are no longer the same. Change thus in a minute! You speak as if your master were here.
Front. I speak as I have always spoken. I love my master, obey my master, respect my master, and – and – he's a gentleman.
Count. [Shaking him with great anger.] Scoundrel!
Fior. And all you have said of his avarice is false?
Count. Villain! [Shaking Frontino till he falls.]
Fior. What now? Where are you? What has fallen?
[Exit the Count, feeling till he finds the door.
Scene VI. – Frontino and Fiorillo, then the Count
Front. [Aside.] The devil take you! – [Feeling about.] Where are you, Signor?
Fior. Who are you talking to?
Front. Signor, where are you?
Fior. Hey-day! You have taken a cup already, my friend.
Front. Ah! ah! Here he comes. God help my poor back.
Count. [Entering with a candle, speaks softly.] Traitor! Dog! – [Aloud.] Hark you, Frontino!
Front. [Afraid.] Ye – ye – yes!
Count. [Aside.] If we were alone! – [Aloud.] Go and tell Madame Araminta I wish to speak to her, either in her room or my own.
Front. Yes, Signor. – [Aside.] – I will not trust his looks. – [To the Count.] Do not think —
Count. [Disdainfully.] Deliver your message.
Front. [Aside.] I see how it is. You must pack off, my friend Frontino.
[Exit.
Scene VII. —The Count and Fiorillo
Fior. You have a faithful servant there, Signor.
Count. You do not know him, friend. An ungrateful fellow, to whom I have been kind and generous in vain. A professed liar! I discovered him, gave him warning; and, to revenge himself, the rascal speaks ill of me. [Going with the light he brought.]
Fior. Excuse me; this room is dark: permit me to light another candle.
Count. Certainly. I can't tell why they were all put out.
Fior. Frontino is a good servant, and knows how to manage.
Count. [Aside.] The hound! I would send him to the devil if I could find a servant for as little wages.
[Exit.
Scene VIII. – Fiorillo and the Marquis
Fior. If I had not got this light, here I might have stayed.
Marq. [Entering.] I should like to know – ? [To Fiorillo.] Did you not say – ? Tell him to come here.
Fior. Who, Signor?
Marq. My son.
Fior. Yes. – [Aside.] He is not always to be understood. – [Aloud.] First suffer me to light a candle.
Marq. Another – I love – Good, good, excellent! See clear. [Lights a third himself.]
Fior. Some one may come to put them out.
Marq. Out! Who?
Fior. [Laughing.] The illustrious Count!
[Exit.
Marq. True! Without a grain of oats!
Scene IX. —Enter Araminta
Aram. [Speaking as she enters.] He is in his room. Marquis, your obedient —
Marq. Humble servant. – All well? All well?
Aram. At your service.
Marq. Good, good, excellent! I wished to – My son will tell you.
Aram. Your son, my daughter, and Dorimene, have so stunned and tormented me that I can hear no more.
Marq. If so, Madame – But – you know me – I have not – Very true; but – my property – my estates – Forest, lordship, seven springs – High lands, low – Pasture, arable – A barony. Good, good, excellent! Two millions, Madame!
Aram. What matter your millions? My husband made a fortune from nothing; you, with millions, are ruined! He took care of his own affairs; I managed the house. But permit me to say, Signor Marquis, in your family all has been disorder.
Marq. The Marchioness, heaven bless her! was a little too fond – Poor woman! Always lost. For my part – the chase – good hounds – fine horses – Then – my son – Good, good, excellent! Oh, a brave boy! – Who, some day or other – our estates – our lands —
Aram. Had I the management of them, they would soon free themselves.
Marq. Good, good, excellent! Take – act – give 'em up – Oh, with all my heart!
Aram. Surely you do not imagine, Signor Marquis, that it becomes me to be an agent?
Marq. No; I did not say that. You are still – I am not old – Understand me.
Aram. You are jesting.
Marq. Jest when I – ? Good, good, excellent!
Aram. I have no intention to marry; and, if I had, it would not be vain titles, but happiness that I should seek.
Marq. Right – if you – no one interfere – mistress of everything – carte blanche. Good, good, excellent!
Aram. Carte blanche?
Marq. Without restriction.
Scene X. —Enter the Chevalier
Chev. My father sent for me.
Marq. You see, Madame! only son – good youth.
Aram. I know it, and know his merit.
Chev. Ah, Madame! – [To the Marquis.] Did you, sir, know the kindness, the liberality, with which this lady overwhelmed me, how you would be surprised!
Marq. All is concluded? Eleonora – thine? [Overjoyed.]
Aram. Not too fast, Signor Marquis; I have told you how tenderly I love her, and that I will not risk either her happiness or her fortune.
Marq. But – speak, boy – our affairs – Good, good, excellent! Speak the truth; this lady may – as for me – here I am – my heart, my hand, carte blanche.
Chev. To which, dear father, I willingly subscribe. I leave everything to your discretion. [Flying to the side scene.] Approach, dear Eleonora; conquer your fears; join your prayers to ours, and move the heart of a mother, who doubts only through delicacy.
Enter Eleonora and Dorimene, who remains in the background.
Eleon. [Falling at her mother's feet.] Oh, my mother! you know my heart, and how religiously I have always obeyed your commands. You would unite me to a man whom I can never love; virtuous affection has taken possession of my soul. I ought to have told you, but fear and respect forbade me; yet my feelings, however ardent, I was determined should be sacrificed to obedience to that affection which I have ever felt for you, and that tender attachment in which I have been educated. Ah, do not force me to a marriage I detest! and which will render me the most disconsolate and wretched woman on earth.
Aram. [Aside.] Poor child! Did she know my heart!
Marq. [Wiping his eyes.] Now – if – Good, good, excellent!
Aram. Be it so on one condition. The carte blanche —
Marq. [Presenting his hand.] Sign it – pray accept —
Aram. Your hand?
Eleon. My dear mother, your superintending prudence and goodness will secure our felicity.
Chev. Oh yes. Your orders shall be respected; your example the rule for our conduct; your advice our guide.
Aram. [Aside.] My child! my child!
Marq. [Still tenderly presenting his hand.] Madame!
Aram. [Cheerfully.] Signor Marquis – I am yours.
Marq. And I – Good, good, excellent!
Dor. [Coming forward.] Permit me, ladies and gentlemen, to say I have thus far been silent, being desirous to promote this young lady's happiness; but I think you will remember my brother ought to be, in some degree, consulted in this affair.
Eleon. Heavens! what say you, Madame?
Aram. My daughter should have been his, had he been less of a spendthrift.