Oscar Wilde: The Complete Works. Knowledge house
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
·29· 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.
·30· 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?
·31· 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,
·32· 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 ·33· canopy of cloth of silver tissue, borne by four pages in scarlet, the Duchess of Padua comes down the steps; as she passes across their eyes meet for a moment, and as she leaves the stage she looks back at Guido, and the dagger falls from his hand.]
Oh! who is that?
a citizen
The Duchess of Padua!
End of Act I.
·35· Act II.
·37· SCENE—A state room in the Ducal Palace, hung with tapestries representing the Masque of Venus; a large door in the centre opens into a corridor of red marble, through which one can see a view of Padua; a large canopy is set (R.C.) with three thrones, one a little lower than the others; the ceiling is made of long gilded beams; furniture of the period, chairs covered with gilt leather, and buffets set with gold and silver plate, and chests painted with mythological scenes. A number of the courtiers is out on the corridor looking from it down into the street below; from the street comes the roar of a mob and cries of ‘Death to the Duke’: after a little interval enter the Duke very calmly; he is leaning on