Карло Гольдони
The Comedies of Carlo Goldoni
ACT II
Scene I. —The chamber of Mademoiselle Giannina
Mademoiselle Costanza, alone, seated
Cost. Who would ever have thought Monsieur de la Cotterie had such a liking for me? It is true he has always treated me with politeness, and been ready to converse with me; but I cannot say I have observed any great signs of love. Now I have always loved him, but have not had courage enough to show it. I flatter myself he too loves me, and for the same reason conceals it; in truth a modest officer is a strange animal, and it is hard to believe in its existence. Monsieur Philibert must have reasons for what he says, and I am well pleased to think him not mistaken, especially as I have no evidence that he is so. Here comes my handsome soldier – but Mademoiselle Giannina is with him; she never permits us to be alone together for a moment. I have some suspicion she is my rival.
Enter Mademoiselle Giannina and De la Cotterie
Gian. Keep your seat, Mademoiselle; excuse me for having left you alone for a little while. I know you will be kind enough to forgive me, and I bring some one with me, who, I am sure, will secure your pardon.
Cost. Though surely in your own house and with a real friend such ceremony is needless, your company is always agreeable. I desire you will put yourself to no inconvenience.
Gian. Do you hear, Lieutenant? You see we Dutch are not without wit.
De la Cot. This is not the first time I have observed it.
Cost. Monsieur de la Cotterie is in a house that does honour to our country, and if he admires ladies of wit, he need not go out of it.
Gian. You are too polite, Mademoiselle.
Cost. I simply do justice to merit.
Gian. Let us not dispute about our merits, but rather leave it to the Lieutenant to decide.
De la Cot. If you wish a decision, you must choose a better judge.
Gian. A partial one, indeed, cannot be a good judge.
Cost. And to say nothing of partiality, he feels under obligations to you as the mistress of the house.
Gian. Oh, in France, the preference is always given to the guest: is it not so, Lieutenant?
De la Cot. It is no less the custom in Holland, than in my own country.
Cost. That is to say, the greater the merit, the greater the distinction with which they are treated.
Gian. On that principle you would be treated with the most distinction.
De la Cot. [Aside.] I shall get into trouble if this conversation continues.
Cost. By your leave, Mademoiselle.
Gian. Why do you leave us so soon?
Cost. I am engaged to my aunt; I promised to dine with her to-day, and it is not amiss to go early.
Gian. Oh, it is too early; your aunt is old, and you will perhaps still find her in bed.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Do not prevent her from going.
Gian. He begs me to detain you.
Cost. I am overpowered by your politeness. [Curtseying.] – [Aside.] Her amusement is to torment me.
Gian. [To Costanza.] What say you, my friend, have I not a good heart?
Cost. I must praise your kindness to me.
Gian. [To De la Cotterie.] And do you, too, own you are under obligations to me?
De la Cot. Yes, certainly, I have reason to be grateful to you; you, who know my feelings, must be conscious of the great favour you do me. [Ironically.]
Gian. [To Costanza.] You hear him? he is delighted.
Cost. My dear friend, as you have such a regard for me, and take so much interest in him, allow me to speak freely to you. Your worthy father has told me a piece of news that overwhelms me with joy and surprise. If all he has told me be true, I pray you, Monsieur De la Cotterie, to confirm it.
Gian. This is just what I anticipated; but as your conversation cannot be brief, and your aunt expects you, had you not better defer it to another opportunity?
De la Cot. [Aside.] Heaven grant I may not be still more involved!
Cost. A few words are all I ask.
Gian. Come, Lieutenant, take courage, and say all in a few words.
De la Cot. Indeed, I have not the courage.
Gian. No, my dear, it is impossible to express in a few words the infinite things he has to say to you.
Cost. It will be enough if he says but one word.
Gian. And what is that?
Cost. That he really loves me.
Gian. Pardon me; the Lieutenant is too polite to speak of love to one young lady in the presence of another; but I can, by going away, give you an opportunity of conversing together, and so remove all obstacles to an explanation. [Going.]
De la Cot. Stay, Mademoiselle!
Cost. Yes, and mortify me no more. Be assured I should never have spoken with the boldness I have done, had you not led me to do so. I do not comprehend your meaning; there is an inconsistency in your conduct; but, be it as it may, time will bring the truth to light. And now permit me to take leave.
Gian. My dear friend, pardon my inattention to you on first coming. You are mistress to go or remain as you please.
Enter Philibert
Phil. What delightful company! But why are you on your feet? why do you not sit down?
Gian. Costanza is just going.
Phil. [To Costanza.] Why so soon?
Gian. Her aunt expects her.
Phil. No, my dear young lady, do me the favour to remain; we may want you, and in affairs of this kind moments are often precious. I have sent to your father, to say I desire to have a conversation with him; I am certain he will come. We will have a private interview, and, however little he may be inclined to give his consent, I shall press him so as not to leave him time to repent; if we agree, I will call you both immediately into my room.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Our situation is becoming more critical every moment.
Phil. [To De la Cotterie.] You seem to me to be agitated.
Gian. It is the excess of joy.
Phil. [To Costanza.] And what effect has hope on you?
Cost. I have more fear than hope.
Phil. Rely on me. For the present, be content to remain here; and, as we do not know exactly when your father will come, stay to dinner with us.
Gian. She cannot stay, sir.
Phil. Why not?
Gian. Because she promised her aunt to dine with her to-day.
Cost. [Aside.] I see she does not wish me to remain.
Phil. The aunt who expects you is your father's sister?
Cost. Yes, sir.
Phil. I know her; she is my particular friend. Leave it to me. I will get you released from the engagement, and, as soon as Monsieur Riccardo comes here, I will send word to her where you are, and she will be satisfied.
Cost. I am grateful, Monsieur Philibert, for your great kindness; permit me for a moment to see my aunt, who is not well. I will soon return, and avail myself of your politeness.
Phil. Very well; come back quickly.
Cost. Good morning to you; you will soon see me again.
Gian. Good-bye. – [Aside.] If she does not come back I shall not break my heart.
Phil. Adieu, my dear. – One moment. Lieutenant, for a man who has been in the wars, you do not seem quite as much at your ease as you should be.
Cost. Why do you say so, sir?
Phil. Because you are letting Mademoiselle go away without taking notice of her – without one word of civility.
Cost. Indeed, he has said but few.
De la Cot. [To Philibert.] I ought not to abuse the privilege you have given me.
Phil. [Aside.] I understand. – Giannina, a word with you.
Gian. Yes, sir?
Phil. [Aside to Giannina.] It is not right for a young lady to thrust herself between two lovers in this manner; on account of you, they cannot speak two words to each other.
Gian. [To Philibert.] They spoke in whispers together.
Phil. [To De la Cotterie.] Well, if you have anything to say to her —
De la Cot. There will be time enough, sir.
Phil. [To Giannina.] Attend to me.
Cost. [Aside to De la Cotterie.] At least assure me of your affection.
De la Cot. [Aside to Costanza.] Excuse me, Mademoiselle. [Giannina coughs aloud.] [Aside.] I am exceedingly embarrassed.
Cost. [Loud enough for all to hear.] Is it possible you will not say once that you love me?
Gian. [To Costanza, with asperity.] How many times do you want him to tell you so? Did he not say so before me?
Phil. [To Giannina, with asperity.] No meddling, I tell you.
Cost. Do not disturb yourself, Mademoiselle; to see clearly here is not easy. I wish you all a good morning. Adieu, Lieutenant. – [Aside.] He is worried by this troublesome girl.
[Exit.
Phil. [To Giannina.] I am not pleased with your ways.
Gian. My dear father, let me amuse myself a little. I, who am so free from love, like sometimes to vex these lovers. As it was I who discovered their passion for each other, they are under obligations to me for their approaching happiness; hence they may pardon my jokes.
Phil. You girls are the devil! but the time will come, my daughter, when you will know how trying to lovers are these little teasing ways. You are now old enough, and the first good offer that presents itself, be prepared to accept it. What says Monsieur de la Cotterie! Am I not right?
De la Cot. Quite right.
Gian. Monsieur Quite Right, that is for me to decide, not for you.
Phil. Are you averse to being married?
Gian. If I could find a husband to my taste —
Phil. I shall be pleased if he is to your taste – to mine he certainly must be; the fortune I intend for you will make you equal to the best match in Holland.
Gian. The father of Mademoiselle Costanza says the same.
Phil. Do you compare Monsieur Riccardo with me? or do you compare yourself to the daughter of a broker? You vex me when you talk so. I will hear no more.
Gian. But I do not say —
Phil. I'll hear no more.
[Exit.
De la Cot. Ah, my Giannina, our affairs are worse than ever. How much better not to have taken such a step!
Gian. Who could have foreseen my father would involve himself as he has done?
De la Cot. I see no remedy but my immediate departure.
Gian. Such weakness I did not expect.
De la Cot. Then I may be forced to marry Mademoiselle Costanza.
Gian. Do so, if you have the heart.
De la Cot. Or shall the whole mystery be explained?
Gian. It would be a most unhandsome act, to expose me to the shame of having contrived such a deception.
De la Cot. Then do you suggest some plan.
Gian. All I can say is this: think no more of going away. As to marrying Mademoiselle Costanza, it is absurd; to discover our plot preposterous. Resolve, then, on some plan to secure at the same time our love, our reputation, and our happiness.
[Exit.
De la Cot. Excellent advice! but among so many things not to be done, where shall we find what is to be done? Alas! nothing remains but absolute despair.
[Exit.
Scene II. —Enter Monsieur Philibert, alone
Phil. I can never believe Monsieur Riccardo refuses to come here; he knows who I am, and that it is to his interest not to offend one who can do him either good or harm. He must remember I lent him ten thousand florins when he commenced business, but there are persons who easily forget benefits, and regard neither friends nor relations, when they can no longer make use of them.
Enter Marianna
Mar. If I do not interrupt you, Monsieur Philibert, I would say something to you.
Phil. I am now at leisure.
Mar. I would speak to you of an affair of my own.
Phil. Well, be quick, for I am expecting company.
Mar. I will tell you in two words: with your permission, I would get married.
Phil. Get married, then! much good may it do you!
Mar. But this is not all, sir. I am a poor girl, and have now lived ten years in your family; with what attention and fidelity I have served you, you know. I ask you, not for the value of the thing, but as a mark of your favour, to make me a small present.
Phil. Well, I will do something for you as a recompense for your faithful services. Have you found a husband?
Mar. Yes, sir.
Phil. Bravo! I am glad of it. And you tell me of it after it is all arranged?
Mar. Pardon me, sir; I should not do so now, but accident has led me to an engagement with a young man of small means, which makes me come to you.
Phil. I will lay a wager it is the servant of the officer with whom you are in love.
Mar. You are right, sir.
Phil. And are you willing to travel all over the world with him?
Mar. I am in hopes he will live here, if his master marries, as they say —
Phil. Yes, it is likely he will get married.
Mar. No one should know better than you, sir.
Phil. I am most anxious to see him happy.
Mar. As that is the case, sir, I consider it as though it were already done.
Phil. There may be difficulties in the way, but I hope to overcome them.
Mar. There are none, I think, on the part of the young lady.
Phil. No; she is much in love with him.
Mar. That is evident.
Phil. And when do you propose to be married?
Mar. If it please you, sir, at the same time my young lady is married.
Phil. What young lady?
Mar. My mistress, your daughter.
Phil. If you wait till then, you will have time enough.
Mar. Do you think her marriage will be long delayed?
Phil. Good! Before talking of her marriage, the husband must be found.
Mar. Why, is there not a husband?
Phil. A husband! not that I know of.
Mar. You do not know?
Phil. Poor me! I know nothing of it. Tell me what you know, and do not hide the truth.
Mar. You astonish me! Is she not to marry Monsieur de la Cotterie? Did you not tell me so yourself, and that you were pleased at it?
Phil. Blockhead! Did you suppose I would give my daughter to a soldier – the younger son of a poor family? to one who has not the means of supporting her in the way she has been accustomed to from her birth?
Mar. Did you not say just now that Monsieur de la Cotterie was about to be married, and that you were most anxious for his happiness?
Phil. To be sure I did.
Mar. And, pray, who is he to marry, if not Mademoiselle Giannina?
Phil. Blockhead! Are there no girls at the Hague but her?
Mar. He visits at no other house.
Phil. And does nobody come here?
Mar. I do not perceive that he pays attention to any one but my young mistress.
Phil. Blockhead! Don't you know Mademoiselle Costanza?
Mar. A blockhead cannot know everything.
Phil. Has my daughter made you her confidant?
Mar. She always speaks of the officer with the greatest esteem, and expresses much pity for him.
Phil. And did you believe her pity proceeded from love?
Mar. I did.
Phil. Blockhead!
Mar. I know, too, he wanted to go away, because he was in despair —
Phil. Well?
Mar. Fearing her father would not give his consent.
Phil. Excellent!
Mar. And are you not that father?
Phil. Are there no other fathers?
Mar. You gave me to understand they were to be married.
Phil. How absurd is your obstinacy!
Mar. I will venture my head I am right.
Phil. You should understand your mistress better, and respect her more than to think so.
Mar. Indeed, it is an honourable love.
Phil. Begone directly!
Mar. I see no great harm in it.
Phil. Here comes some one – Monsieur Riccardo. Go quickly.
Mar. You are too rough, sir.
Phil. Blockhead!
Mar. We shall see who is the blockhead, I or —
Phil. You or I the blockhead?
Mar. I – or that man passing along the street.
[Exit.
Phil. Impertinent! whether she gets married or not, she shall stay no longer in my house. To have such an opinion of my daughter! Giannina is not capable of it; no, not capable.
Enter Monsieur Riccardo
Ric. Your servant, Monsieur Philibert.
Phil. Good day to you, Monsieur Riccardo. Excuse me if I have put you to any inconvenience.
Ric. Have you any commands for me?
Phil. I wish to have some conversation with you. Pray be seated.
Ric. I can spare but a few moments.
Phil. Are you much engaged just now?
Ric. Yes, indeed; among other things, I am harassed by a number of people about the case of the smugglers who have been arrested.
Phil. I have heard of it. Are these poor people still in prison?
Ric. Yes; and I wish they may remain there until their house is utterly ruined.
Phil. And have you the heart to bear the tears of their children?
Ric. Had they not the heart to violate the laws of the customs – to defraud the revenue? I wish I could catch them oftener; do you not know that smugglers on conviction pay all costs?
Phil. [Aside.] Oh! his vile employment.
Ric. Well, what have you to say to me?
Phil. Monsieur Riccardo, you have a daughter to marry.
Ric. Yes, and a plague to me she is.
Phil. Does her being in your house put you to any inconvenience?
Ric. No; but the thought of providing for her when she marries does.
Phil. [Aside.] How contemptible! – If she wishes to marry, you must provide for her.
Ric. I shall do so; I shall be obliged to do so; but on one of two conditions: without a fortune, if she marries to please herself, – with one, if to please me.
Phil. I have a proposal to make to you.
Ric. Let me hear it, but be quick.
Phil. Do you know a certain French officer who is a guest in my house?
Ric. Do you propose him for my daughter?
Phil. Say I did, would you have any objection?
Ric. An officer, and a Frenchman! He shall have my daughter neither with nor without a fortune.
Phil. Are you, then, opposed to the French and the military?
Ric. Yes, to both equally; much more so if they are united in the same person. I hate the French, because they are not friends to commerce and industry, as we are; they care for nothing but suppers, the theatre, and amusement. With soldiers I have no reason to be pleased; I know how much I lose by them. They contend we contractors are obliged to maintain their infantry – their horse; and when they are in quarters, they waste a whole arsenal full of money.
Phil. The French officer of whom I speak is an honourable man; he has no vice, and is moreover of a noble family.
Ric. Is he rich?
Phil. He is a younger son.
Ric. If he is not rich, I value but little his nobility, and still less his profession.
Phil. My dear friend, let us speak confidentially. A man like you, blessed with a large fortune, can never better employ fifty or sixty thousand florins, than by bestowing them on his daughter, when she marries so worthy a man.
Ric. On this occasion, I would not give ten livres.
Phil. And to whom will you give your daughter?
Ric. If I am to dispose of so large a sum of money, I wish to place it in one of the best houses in Holland.
Phil. You will never do so.
Ric. I shall never do so?
Phil. No, never.
Ric. Why not?
Phil. Because the respectable houses in Holland have no occasion to enrich themselves in this manner.
Ric. You esteem this French officer highly?
Phil. Most highly.
Ric. Why not then give him your own daughter?
Phil. Why not? Because – because I do not choose.
Ric. And I do not choose to give him mine.
Phil. There is some difference between you and me.
Ric. I do not perceive in what it consists.
Phil. We know very well how you began.
Ric. But we do not know how you will end.
Phil. Your language is too arrogant.
Ric. Were we not in your house, it should be stronger.
Phil. I will let you know who I am.
Ric. I am not afraid of you.
Phil. Go; we will speak of this again.
Ric. Yes, again. – [Aside.] If he ever falls into my hands – if I catch him in the least evasion of the revenue laws – I swear I will destroy him.
[Exit.
Phil. A rascal! a brute without civility! an impertinent fellow!
Enter De la Cotterie
De la Cot. [Aside.] Their conference, ending in an altercation, makes me hope he has refused his daughter.
Phil. [Aside.] I am not I, if I do not let him see —
De la Cot. Monsieur —
Phil. An ill-tempered, worthless —
De la Cot. Are these compliments intended for me, sir?
Phil. Pardon me; I am carried away by my anger.
De la Cot. Who has offended you?
Phil. That insolent fellow, Monsieur Riccardo.
De la Cot. And has he refused his consent to the marriage?
Phil. [Aside.] I am sorry I must bring this new trouble on the poor Lieutenant.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Heaven be praised! fortune at last aids me.
Phil. My friend, never give way to resentment – to impatience of temper.
De la Cot. Tell me the truth; does he refuse his daughter?
Phil. A man in this world ought to be prepared for any event.
De la Cot. I am impatient to hear the truth.
Phil. [Aside.] Ah! if I tell him, he will drop down dead.
De la Cot. [Aside.] This suspense is intolerable.
Phil. [Aside] Yet he must know.
De la Cot. By your leave, sir. [Going.]
Phil. Stay a moment. – [Aside.] If he goes, there is danger he will destroy himself from despair.
De la Cot. Why not tell me at once what he said to you?
Phil. Control yourself. Do not give way to despair, because an avaricious, presumptuous, ignorant father refuses to marry his daughter respectably. There is a way to manage it in spite of him.
De la Cot. No, sir; when the father refuses, it is not proper for me to persist.
Phil. Well, what do you mean to do?
De la Cot. To go far away, and to sacrifice my love to honour, duty, and universal quiet.
Phil. And have you the heart to abandon a girl who loves you? – to leave her a prey to despair? – soon to receive the sad intelligence of her illness, perhaps of her death!
De la Cot. Ah, Monsieur Philibert, your words will kill me! if you knew their force, you would be cautious how you used them.
Phil. My words will conduct you to joy, to peace, to happiness.
De la Cot. Ah, no! rather to sorrow and destruction.
Phil. It is strange that a man of spirit like you should be so easily discouraged.
De la Cot. If you knew my case, you would not talk so.
Phil. I know it perfectly, but do not consider it desperate. The girl loves you – you love her passionately. This will not be the first marriage between young persons that has taken place without the consent of parents.
De la Cot. Do you approve of my marrying the daughter without the consent of the father?
Phil. Yes – in your case – considering the circumstances, I do approve of it. If the father is rich, you are of a noble family. You do him honour by the connection; he provides for your interest by a good dowry.
De la Cot. But, sir, how can I hope for any dowry when I marry his daughter in this manner? The father, offended, will refuse her the least support.
Phil. When it is done, it is done. He has but this only child; his anger may last a few days, and then he must do what so many others have done: he will receive you as his son-in-law, and perhaps make you master of his house.
De la Cot. And may I hope for this?
Phil. Yes, if you have courage.
De la Cot. I do not want courage; the difficulty lies in the means.
Phil. There is no difficulty in the means. Hear my suggestions. Mademoiselle Costanza must now be at her aunt's. Do what I tell you. Give up your dinner to-day, as I shall do mine on your account. Go and find her. If she loves you in earnest, persuade her to show her love by her actions. If the aunt is favourable to your designs, ask her protection, and then, if the girl consents, marry her.
De la Cot. And if the injured father should threaten to send me to prison?
Phil. Carry her with you into France.
De la Cot. With what means? With what money?
Phil. Wait a moment. [Goes and opens a bureau.]
De la Cot. [Aside.] Oh, Heavens! how unconscious is he that he is encouraging me to an enterprise, of which the injury may fall on his own head!
Phil. Take this. Here are a hundred guineas in gold, and four hundred more in notes: these five hundred guineas will serve you for some time; accept them from my friendship. I think I can make the father of the girl return them to me.
De la Cot. Sir, I am full of confusion —
Phil. What confuses you? I am astonished at you! you want spirit; you want courage. Go quickly, and do not lose a moment. In the meantime, I will observe the movements of Monsieur Riccardo, and if there is any danger of his surprising you, I will find persons to keep him away. Let me know what happens, either in person or by note. My dear friend, you seem already to have recovered your spirits. I rejoice for your sake. May fortune be propitious to you! – [Aside.] I am anxious to see Monsieur Riccardo in a rage – in despair. [Closes the bureau.]
De la Cot. [Aside.] He gives me counsel, and money to carry it into effect. What shall I resolve on? what plan shall I follow? Take fortune on the tide; and he can blame no one but himself, who, contriving a stratagem against another, falls into his own snare.
[Exit.
Monsieur Philibert, alone
Phil. In truth, I feel some remorse of conscience for the advice and aid I have given. I remember, too, that I have a daughter, and I would not have such an injury done to me. Nature tells us, and the law commands, not to do to others what we should not wish done to us. But I am carried along by several reasons; a certain gentleness of disposition inclining me to hospitality, to friendship, makes me love the Lieutenant, and take almost the same interest in him as if he were my son. The marriage appears to me to be a suitable one, the opposition of Monsieur Riccardo unjust, and his severity to his daughter tyranny. Add to all this the uncivil treatment I have received from him, the desire to be revenged, and the pleasure of seeing his pride humbled. Yes, if I lose the five hundred guineas, I shall have the satisfaction of seeing my friend made happy, and Monsieur Riccardo mortified.
Enter Mademoiselle Costanza
Cost. Here I am, sir.
Phil. [Disturbed.] What brings you here?
Cost. Did you not send for me?
Phil. [As before.] Have you seen Monsieur de la Cotterie?
Cost. No, sir, I have not seen him.
Phil. Return at once to your aunt's.
Cost. Do you drive me from your house?
Phil. No, I do not drive you away, but I advise you I entreat. Go quickly, I tell you.
Cost. I wish to know the reason.
Phil. You shall know it when you are at your aunt's.
Cost. Has anything new occurred?
Phil. Yes, there is something new.
Cost. Tell me what it is.
Phil. Monsieur de la Cotterie will tell you.
Cost. Where is he?
Phil. At your aunt's.
Cost. The Lieutenant has not been there.
Phil. He is this moment gone there.
Cost. What for?
Phil. Return; then you will know it.
Cost. Have you spoken to my father?
Phil. Yes; ask your husband that is to be.
Cost. My husband!
Phil. Yes, your husband.
Cost. Monsieur de la Cotterie?
Phil. Monsieur de la Cotterie.
Cost. May I rely on it?
Phil. Go directly to your aunt's.
Cost. Please tell me what has happened.
Phil. Time is precious; if you lose time, you lose your husband.
Cost. Ah me! I will run with all speed; would that I had wings to my feet.
[Exit.
Enter Mademoiselle Giannina
Phil. Two words from the Lieutenant are worth more than a thousand from me.
Gian. Is what Monsieur de la Cotterie has told me true, sir?
Phil. What has he told you?
Gian. That you advised him to marry the girl without the consent of her father.
Phil. Did he tell you this in confidence?
Gian. Yes, sir.
Phil. [Aside.] I am displeased at his indiscretion.
Gian. And that you gave him five hundred guineas to aid him in the scheme.
Phil. [Aside.] Imprudent! I am almost sorry I did so.
Gian. Your silence confirms it; it is true, then?
Phil. Well, what do you say to it?
Gian. Nothing, sir. It is enough for me to know you did it. Your humble servant, sir.
Phil. Where are you going?
Gian. To amuse myself.
Phil. In what manner?
Gian. With the marriage of Monsieur de la Cotterie.
Phil. But it has not taken place yet.
Gian. I hope it soon will.
Phil. Be cautious – mention it to no one.
Gian. Never fear; it will be known as soon as it is over. You will have the credit of contriving it, and I shall be most happy when it is done.
[Exit.
Phil. [Alone.] I hope she will not imitate this bad example; but there is no danger. She is a good girl, and, like me, can distinguish between cases, and understands what is proper; and as I know how she has been brought up, under my own care, I have no apprehensions such a misfortune may befall me.