ACT IV. SCENE I.
The Country. A Hall in Charomonte's House.
Enter Charomonte and Lidia.
Char. Daughter, I have observed, since the prince left us,
(Whose absence I mourn with you,) and the visit
Count Sanazarro gave us, you have nourish'd
Sad and retired thoughts, and parted with
That freedom and alacrity of spirit
With which you used to cheer me.
Lid. For the count, sir,
All thought of him does with his person die;
But I confess ingenuously, I cannot
So soon forget the choice and chaste delights,
The courteous conversation of the prince,
And without stain, I hope, afforded me,
When he made this house a court.
Char. It is in us
To keep it so without him. Want we know not,
And all we can complain of, Heaven be praised for 't,
Is too much plenty; and we will make use of
Enter Caponi, Bernardo, Petruchio, and other Servants.
All lawful pleasures.—How now, fellows! when
Shall we have this lusty dance?
Cap. In the afternoon, sir.
'Tis a device, I wis, of my own making,
And such a one, as shall make your signiorship know
I have not been your butler for nothing, but
Have crotchets in my head. We'll trip it tightly,
And make my sad young mistress merry again,
Or I'll forswear the cellar.
Bern. If we had
Our fellow Calandrino here, to dance
His part, we were perfect.
Pet. O! he was a rare fellow;
But I fear the court hath spoil'd him.
Cap. When I was young,
I could have cut a caper on a pinnacle;
But now I am old and wise.—Keep your figure fair,
And follow but the sample I shall set you,
The duke himself will send for us, and laugh at us;
And that were credit.
Enter Calandrino.
Lid. Who have we here?
Cal. I find
What was brawn in the country, in the court grows tender.
The bots on these jolting jades! I am bruised to jelly.
A coach for my money!
Char. Calandrino! 'tis he.
Cal. Now to my postures.—Let my hand have the honour
To convey a kiss from my lips to the cover of
Your foot, dear signior.
Char. Fie! you stoop too low, sir.
Cal. The hem of your vestment, lady: your glove is for princes;
Nay, I have conn'd my distances.
Lid. 'Tis most courtly.
Cap. Fellow Calandrino!
Cal. Signior de Caponi,
Grand botelier of the mansion.
Bern. How is 't, man? [Claps him on the shoulder.
Cal. Be not so rustic in your salutations.
Signior Bernardo, master of the accounts.
Signior Petruchio, may you long continue
Your function in the chamber!
Cap. When shall we learn
Such gambols in our villa?
Char. 'Tis not unlike, for most of such mushrooms are so.
What news at court?
Cal. Basta! they are mysteries.
And not to be reveal'd. With your favour, signior,
I am, in private, to confer awhile
With this signora: but I'll pawn my honour,
That neither my terse language, nor my habit,
Howe'er it may convince, nor my new shrugs,
Shall render her enamour'd.
Char. Take your pleasure;
A little of these apish tricks may pass,
Too much is tedious. [Exit.
Cal. The prince, in this paper,
Presents his service. Nay, it is not courtly
To see the seal broke open; so I leave you.—
Signiors of the villa, I'll descend to be
Familiar with you.
Cap. Have you forgot to dance?
Cal. No, I am better'd.
Pet. Will you join with us?
Cal. As I like the project.
Let me warm my brains first with the richest grape,
And then I'm for you.
Cap. We will want no wine.
[Exeunt all but Lidia.
Lid. That this comes only from the best of princes,
With a kind of adoration does command me
To entertain it; and the sweet contents
[Kissing the letter.
That are inscribed here by his hand must be
Much more than musical to me. All the service
Of my life at no part can deserve this favour.
O, what a virgin longing I feel on me
To unrip the seal, and read it! yet, to break
What he hath fastened, rashly, may appear
A saucy rudeness in me.—I must do it,
(Nor can I else learn his commands, or serve them,)
But with such reverence, as I would open
Some holy writ, whose grave instructions beat down
Rebellious sins, and teach my better part
How to mount upward.—So, [opens the letter] 'tis done, and I
With eagle's eyes will curiously peruse it. [Reads.
Chaste Lidia, the favours are so great
On me by you conferr'd, that to entreat
The least addition to them, in true sense
May argue me of blushless impudence.
But, such are my extremes, if you deny
A further grace, I must unpitied die.
Haste cuts off circumstance. As you're admired
For beauty; the report of it hath fired
The duke my uncle, and, I fear, you'll prove,
Not with a sacred, but unlawful love.
If he see you as you are, my hoped-for light
Is changed into an everlasting night;
How to prevent it, if your goodness find,
You save two lives, and me you ever bind,
The honourer of your virtues, Giovanni.
Were I more deaf than adders, these sweet charms
Would through my ears find passage to my soul,
And soon enchant it. To save such a prince,
Who would not perish? Virtue in him must suffer,
And piety be forgotten. The duke's passion,
Though it raged more than Tarquin's, shall not reach me.
All quaint inventions of chaste virgins aid me!
My prayers are heard; I have 't. The duke ne'er saw me—
Or, if that fail, I am again provided—
But for the servants!—They will take what form
I please to put upon them. Giovanni,
Be safe; thy servant Lidia assures it.
Let mountains of afflictions fall on me,
Their weight is easy, so I set thee free. [Exit.