University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A Room in the Castle of the Marquis. Enter Costanza and Filippia.
Filippia.
After this treatment of your father, too?

Costanza.
Yes, yes. Each act which sinks him in my mind,
Binds me more closely to him. I but think
Of my poor father, feeble, heart-sick, dying,
With nothing but the mercy of this man
Between him and the galleys. Gracious heaven!
Marsio dared threaten him with even that,
While all the glory of the setting sun
Looked on him through the windows! Do men think
That this vast theatre of their wickedness—
With its brave lights of sun, and moon, and stars—
Its shifting scenes, from Spring around to Winter—
Its moving canopies of cloudy blue—
Is crowded with a spiritual audience,
Keeping mute watch upon our lightest acts?

Fil.
Ah me! I know not. Musing minds, like yours,
Ask questions without answers. Save my eyes!
Are these things phantoms?

(Enter Marsio, Juranio, and Salvatore.)
Marsio.
Good-day, ladies!—How!
Are we infringing on your privacy?
Pray, what disturbs you? Nay, we will withdraw.

Cos.
Stay, signore: you mistake us.

Mar.
By your leave,
I bring two friends of mine, or rather guests—
Guests for the present, friends henceforth I hope—
To share our feast to-night. Receive them kindly;
For they deserve no less. Let me present,
Lady Costanza, Count Juranio.

Cos.
Sir, we have met before.—

Mar.
Ah! so indeed?
A chance acquaintance, doubtless. As my friend,
He asks a double share of your regard.
Mistress Filippia, signore Salvatore:
I pray you know him.

Fil.
Do not jeer at me!
You know we 've met before. I will not stand
To be a butt for your dull, headless jokes!

Mar.
Gently, my little lady, gently now!
Do I o'erstrain good breeding? Have you had
A formal introduction to my friend?

Salvatore.
'Sblood, signore Marsio—

Mar.
Banish all restraint.
Swear if you list, dear Salvatore, swear!
The ladies will forgive you, for my sake.
Hang on no ceremonious usages.
I beg you'll know each other. Laugh, dance, sing;
Open all avenues to fellowship;
For, by my hopes of wedded bliss, old Time
Shall make oblation of this day, at least,
To rouse the gods of genial jollity!
Where hide the old folk? Let us seek them.—What,
You laggards!—Forward, to the stretching Park!
Stone walls cramp action. Lead my lady forth,
Good Count Juranio. Why, you stand amazed;
Dismal as death! Cannot a man be gay,
Without your wonder? Count, conduct your charge
I give you a safe escort, lady mine.
Now, Salvatore, buckle sweet Filippia
Under your strong right-arm. I'll follow you,
With nothing but my mirth for company.

Sal.
Can Marsio be mad?

[Apart to Filippia.]
Fil.
Heaven only knows!
My heart is fluttering at a fearful rate.

[Apart to Salvatore.]
[Exeunt Costanza and Juranio, Filippia and Salvatore.]
Mar.
So, well done, now! Lord! how they fall to talking!
My presence must have been a chill upon them.
Bless us! Filippia's all alive with speech;
Arms and hands going—how she brings them down!—
Clinching some sentence, through and through, with truth.
And now she darts her head and curving neck,
Like an affronted swan. Ha! quiet yet,
Costanza, pensive still! And your fine Count
Striding as at a funeral! Why is this?
Where 's your love-rhetoric? Heaven speed ye all!
The twigs you tread are limed. Join wits with me!
Who is the fooler now? who are the fooled?

[Exit.]