Scene III.
Pirro, and afterwards Angelo.
PIRRO.
All inquisitive visitors. How I have been questioned! Who comes here? (Enter Angelo, in a short mantle, with which he conceals his face.)
ANGELO.
Pirro! Pirro!
PIRRO.
An acquaintance, it seems. (Angelo throws back the mantle). Heavens! Angelo. You!
ANGELO.
Yes, Angelo, as you perceive. I have been wandering long enough round the house, in order to speak to you. One word with you----
PIRRO.
And dare you again appear in public? Don't you know that, in consequence of your last murder, you are declared an outlaw, a price has been put upon your head?
ANGELO.
You don't intend to claim it, I presume?
PIRRO.
What do you want? I implore you not to involve me in misfortune.
ANGELO.
In this way, you mean? (Showing a purse). Take it; it belongs to you.
PIRRO.
To me?
ANGELO.
Have you forgotten? The German gentleman, your last master----
PIRRO.
Hush!
ANGELO.
----Whom you led into our clutches on the road to Pisa----
PIRRO.
If any one should overhear us!
ANGELO.
----Had the kindness, you know, to bequeath us a valuable ring. Do you not remember? It was so valuable that we could not immediately convert it into money without suspicion. At length, however, I succeeded. I received a hundred pistoles for it, and this is your share. Take it.
PIRRO.
No, no! You may keep it.
ANGELO.
Well, with all my heart! If you don't care at what price you put your head in the market.
PIRRO.
Give it me, then (takes it). And now, what do you want? for I suppose you did not come in search of me merely for that purpose.
ANGELO.
It seems to you not very credible. Rascal! what do you think of us? That we are capable of withholding any man's earnings? That may be the way with honest people; but we don't follow their fashions. Farewell! (Affects to be going, but turns at the door). One question I must ask. Old Galotti has just come hurriedly into town quite alone. What does he want?
PIRRO.
Nothing, merely a ride. His daughter is to be married this evening, at his country house, whence he has come to Count Appiani. He awaits the moment with impatience.
ANGELO.
Then he will return soon?
PIRRO.
So soon, that if you remain any longer he will discover you. But you surely have no thoughts of attacking him. Take care. He is a man----
ANGELO.
Don't I know him? Have I not served under him in the army; but nevertheless if one could only get much from him! At what time do the young people follow him?
PIRRO.
Towards noon.
ANGELO.
With many attendants?
PIRRO.
A single carriage will contain the party--the mother, the daughter, and the count. A few friends from Sabionetta attend as witnesses.
ANGELO.
And the servants?
PIRRO.
Only two besides myself. I shall ride before.
ANGELO.
Good. Another question. Is the carriage Galotti's or the Count's?
PIRRO.
The Count's.
ANGELO.
That is unlucky. There is another outrider, besides a courageous driver. However----
PIRRO.
I am amazed. What do you intend? The few ornaments which the bride has will scarcely reward your trouble.
ANGELO.
Then the bride herself shall be the reward.
PIRRO.
And you mean that I should be your accomplice in this crime?
ANGELO.
You ride before! Then ride, ride, and take no trouble about the matter.
PIRRO.
Never!
ANGELO.
What?--I believe the fellow means to play the conscientious--you rascal! I think you know me. If you utter a syllable--if every circumstance be not as you have described it----
PIRRO.
But, Angelo, for Heaven's sake----
ANGELO.
Do what you cannot avoid. (Exit.)
PIRRO.
Ha! let the devil hold thee by a single hair, and thou art his for ever! Wretch that I am!
Scene IV.
Odoardo and Claudia Galotti, Pirro.
ODOARDO.
She stays too long.
CLAUDIA.
One moment more, Odoardo. It would distress her to miss seeing you.
ODOARDO.
I must wait upon the Count, too. How eager am I to call this worthy man my son! His conduct enchants me, and, above everything, his resolution to pass his days in his native valleys.
CLAUDIA.
My heart almost breaks when I think of it. Must we so entirely lose our dear and only child!
ODOARDO.
Can you think you have lost her, when you know she is in the arms of an affectionate husband? Does not her happiness make your delight? You almost make me again suspect that your motive for remaining with her in town, far from an affectionate husband and father, was the bustle and the dissipation of the world, and proximity of the court, rather than the necessity of giving our daughter a proper education.
CLAUDIA.
How unjust, Odoardo! But to-day, I may be allowed to speak somewhat in favour of town and court, though both are so hateful to your strict virtue; for here alone could love have united a couple formed for each other; here alone could the Count have found our Emilia, and he has found her.
ODOARDO.
That I allow. But were you right, good Claudia, because the result has been fortunate? It is well that this court education has ended so happily. Let us not affect to be wise, when we have only been fortunate. It is well that it has ended so happily. They who were destined for each other have found each other. Now let them go where peace and innocence invite them. Why should the Count remain here? To cringe--to fawn--to flatter--to supplant the Marinellis--to make a fortune which he does not want--to obtain a dignity, which he does not value?--Pirro!
PIRRO.
Sir!
ODOARDO.
Lead my horse to the Count's door. I'll follow you anon, and mount it there. (Exit Pirro).--Why should the Count serve here, when he may command elsewhere? Besides, you do not consider, Claudia, that, by his union with my daughter, he is utterly ruined with the Prince? The Prince hates me----
CLAUDIA.
Less, perhaps, than you fear.
ODOARDO.
Fear! Should I fear anything so contemptible?
CLAUDIA.
Why, have I not already told you that the Prince has seen our daughter?
ODOARDO.
The Prince! Where?
CLAUDIA.
At the last assembly of the Chancellor Grimaldi, which he honoured with his presence. He conducted himself so graciously towards her----
ODOARDO.
Graciously?
CLAUDIA.
Yes. He conversed with her for some time.
ODOARDO.
Conversed with her?
CLAUDIA.
Appeared to be so delighted with her cheerfulness and good sense----
ODOARDO.
Delighted?
CLAUDIA.
Spoke of her elegance and beauty, in terms of such admiration----
ODOARDO.
Admiration? And all this you relate to me in a tone of rapture. Oh, Claudia! vain, foolish mother!
CLAUDIA.
Why so?
ODOARDO.
Well, well. This, too, has ended happily.--Ha! when I think----That were exactly the point where a wound would be to me most deadly.--A libertine, who admires, and seduces----Claudia! Claudia! The very thought rouses my fury. You ought to have mentioned this to me immediately.--But to-day I would not willingly say anything to vex you. And I should (as she takes him by the hand), were I to stay longer. Therefore, let me begone. God be with you, Claudia; follow me in safety. (Exit.)