SCENE III.—CELIA, ANDRÈS.
AND. You know it, Celia, I have left nothing undone to prove the depth of my passion. When I was but very young, my courage in the wars gained me some consideration among the Venetians, and one time or other, and without having too great an opinion of myself, I might, had I continued in their service, have risen to some employment of distinction; but, for your sake, I abandoned everything; the sudden change you produced in my heart, was quickly followed by your lover joining the gipsies. Neither a great many adventures nor your indifference have been able to make me abandon my pursuit. Since that time, being by an accident separated from you much longer than I could have foreseen, I spared neither time nor pains to meet with you again. At last I discovered the old gipsy-woman, and heard from her that for a certain sum of money, which was then of great consequence to the gipsies, and prevented the dissolution of the whole band, you were left in pledge in this neighbourhood. Full of impatience, I flew hither immediately to break these mercenary chains, and to receive from you whatever commands you might be pleased to give. But, when I thought to see joy sparkle in your eyes, I find you pensive and melancholy; if quietness has charms for you, I have sufficient means at Venice, of the spoils taken in war, for us both to live there; but if I must still follow you as before, I will do so, and my heart shall have no other ambition than to serve you in whatever manner you please.
CEL. You openly display your affection for me. I should be ungrateful not to be sensible of it. Besides, just now, my countenance does not bear the impress of the feelings of my heart; my looks show that I have a violent headache. If I have the least influence over you, you will delay our voyage for at least three or four days, until my indisposition has passed away.
AND. I shall stay as long as you like; I only wish to please you; let us look for a house where you may be comfortable. Ho! here is a bill up just at the right time.
SCENE IV.—CELIA, ANDRÈS, MASCARILLE, disguised as a Swiss.
AND. Monsieur Swiss, are you the master of the house?
MASC. I am at your service.
[Footnote: In the original, Mascarille speaks a kind of gibberish, which is only amusing when the play is acted; but it can serve no purpose to translate "moi, pour serfir a fous," "Oui, moi pour d'estrancher chappon champre garni, mais che non point locher te gent te mechant vi," etc., by "me be at your serfice," "yes. me have de very goot shambers, ready furnish for stranger, but me no loge de people scandaluse," etc. A provincial pronunciation, an Irish brogue, or a Scotch tongue, are no equivalent for this mock Swiss German-French.]
AND. Can we lodge here?
MASC. Yes, I let furnished lodgings to strangers, but only to respectable people.
AND. I suppose your house has a very good reputation?
MASC. I see by your face you are a stranger in this town.
AND. I am.
MASC. Are you the husband of this lady?
AND. Sir?
MASC. Is she your wife or your sister?
AND. Neither.
MASC. Upon my word, she is very pretty! Do you come on business, or have you a lawsuit going on before the court? A lawsuit is a very bad thing, it costs so much money; a solicitor is a thief, and a barrister a rogue.
AND. I do not come for either of these.
MASC. You have brought this young lady then to walk about and to see the town?
AND. What is that to you? (To Celia). I shall be with you again in one moment; I am going to fetch the old woman presently, and tell them not to send the travelling-carriage which was ready.
MASC. Is the lady not quite well?
AND. She has a headache.
MASC. I have some good wine and cheese within; walk in, go into my small house. (Celia, Andrès and Mascarille go into the house).
SCENE V.—LELIO, alone.
However impatient and excited I may feel, yet I have pledged my word to do nothing but wait quietly, to let another work for me, and to see, without daring to stir, in what manner Heaven will change my destiny.