ACT II.

Scene I.—Dorimene and Eleonora.

Dor. Come here, my dear Eleonora; I wish to speakto you alone. My brother, I believe, is gone out. [Looksout.] He is not in his cabinet.
Eleon. [Aside.] What can she have to say? She hasa friendship for me, but I believe her interest is morefor her brother. I can expect no consolation.
Dor. We are alone, and may speak freely. Permitme first to observe that within these few days you havehad a serious, melancholy air, which seems but little tosuit your expectations.
Eleon. It is natural to me, Madame; more or less, Iam always so.
Dor. Excuse me; but on your arrival at Paris youhad no such gloomy expression. You are entirelychanged, and certainly not without cause.
Eleon. But really there is no such change.
Dor. My good young friend, you conceal the truth,and want confidence in me. Be a little more just, andrest assured that, though I proposed a marriage betweenyou and my brother, no foolish ambition makes me wishit should succeed at the expense of your heart. Tell meopenly what are your wishes; speak freely, and youshall see whether I am your friend.
Eleon. [Aside.] If I durst, but—No, no.
Dor. Have you any dislike to my brother?
Eleon. I have not long had the honour of his acquaintance,Madame.
Dor. His age, for example, may seem a little too greatwhen compared with your own.
Eleon. The age of a man does not appear to me athing of great importance.
Dor. You perhaps think that my brother is rathertoo economical.
Eleon. You know, Madame, I have been educated ineconomy.
Dor. If so, my dear Eleonora, to my great satisfaction,I have been entirely mistaken, and you will be perfectlyhappy with my brother.
Eleon. I!—Do you think so?
Dor. No doubt; it cannot be otherwise. I havequestioned you with the best intentions, and you haveanswered—sincerely, as I must believe.
Eleon. Oh, certainly.
Dor. Then be at peace; your heart tells me you willbe happy.
Eleon. [Affected.] My heart, Madame!
Dor. Your heart.
Eleon. Ah! I do not understand my own heart.
Dor. Why are you so much moved?
Eleon. [Looking off the stage.] Did not some one callme?
Dor. Called? Where? By whom?
Eleon. [Going.] Perhaps my mother—perhaps somebody—
Dor. No, no; pray stay. Your mother knows youare with me, and therefore cannot be in fear. I havesomething more to say to you.
Eleon. [Aside.] How difficult to disguise my feelings!
Dor. Remember, your heart has told me—
Eleon. [Timorously.] What, Madame?
Dor. You are in love with another.
Eleon. [Confused.] I, Madame!
Dor. You; your blushes confirm it.
Eleon. [Aside.] Heavens! have I betrayed myself?—[Aloud.]You will not tell this to my mother? I shallbe lost!
Dor. No, no; fear nothing. Though you have discoveredthat you cannot confide in me, I love youtenderly, and am incapable of giving you needless pain.Here your mother comes; let us consider between ourselves.
Eleon. Ah, Madame! [Embracing.]
Scene II.—Enter Araminta.
Aram. Well, child; I fear you are troublesome.
Eleon. Pardon me, but—
Dor. We are friends, and I entreated her to keep mecompany.
Aram. You are kinder to her than she deserves. Icannot understand her; she is become so melancholyand dull.
Dor. The air of Paris may not agree with her.
Aram. Do you think so? Since she left the place ofher education, she is no longer the same. Nothingpleases, nothing diverts her. Music, reading, and drawingare all forsaken. I have spared no expense, andhave taken no little delight in perceiving her progress;while, at present, I am equally surprised to see herthus negligent. I willingly incur expense for any goodpurpose; but no one can be more angry than I am atsquandering money.
Eleon. [Aside.] It is very true. I no longer knowmyself.
Dor. Nay, Madame.
Aram. If she wishes to return to her retirement, whynot say so?
Dor. Oh, no, Madame; she has no such wish.
Aram. But why, then, child, are you so gloomy, soindolent? You are soon to be married, and to directa family; this requires activity, attention, and order,as you may see by my example. I am busy frommorning to evening, here and there, going, coming,helping, commanding, and sometimes obliged to findfault; but, by these means, all goes well.
Eleon. [Aside.] I hoped to do the same, but all myhopes are flown!
Dor. Oh, Madame, when your daughter's heart shallbe at ease—
Aram. At ease! What does she want? Is not themarriage contract to be signed to-day?
Dor. Here comes my brother! He can best informyou—
Eleon. [Aside.] How miserable am I!
Scene III.—Enter the Count and a Jeweller.
Count. I am happy, ladies, to find you together. Icame purposely to ask your advice.
Aram. On what subject? Ladies are sometimes excellentadvisers.
Count. [To the Jeweller.] Show your case of jewels.
Aram. [Aside.] Jewels! He may well ask advice insuch articles; it is easy to be cheated.
Jew. [Presenting the case to Dorimene.] Please examineif there can be purer and more perfect diamonds.
Count. Pray give me your opinion.
Dor. I think them admirable! What say you,Eleonora?
Eleon. [With indifference.] I do not understand suchthings.
Aram. I do—show them to me. Though I never woreany diamonds, trade has made me well acquainted withthem. [Taking the case.] These are fine, indeed! Perfectlyassorted, and of a beautiful water. What is their price?
Count. Oh, that is a secret between ourselves. [Tothe Jeweller.] Is it not?
Jew. My lord—I have nothing to say.
Aram. [Aside.] So much the worse; the Count willbe the more easily imposed upon. He comes to askadvice, and then refuses to hear it.
Count. [Apart, to the Jeweller.] My good friend, willyou trust your diamonds with me three or four days?
Jew. [To the Count.] If the ladies think them good,and well chosen, I should prefer—
Count. Nay, friend; jewels of this value must not bepurchased without reflection. Knowing me, you cannotbe afraid.
Jew. By no means! They are at your service.
Count. Be pleased to return at the end of the week.I know the price, and you shall then have the moneyor the diamonds.
Jew. I am much obliged to you, Signor. [Exit.
Scene IV.
Count. [Aside.] Excellent! just as I wished!—[ToEleonora.] Will you do me the favour, Madame, to wearthe jewels I have the honour to present you, at leastfor to-day.
Dor. To-day?
Count. It is the day on which we are to sign the contract,and we shall have thirty persons at table.
Aram. Thirty!
Count. At least, Madame.
Aram. [Aside.] He will ruin himself! But I willhear more.
Count. [Presenting the case to Dorimene.] Dear sister,let me request you to take this case, and to kindly bepresent at the toilet of this lady, to assist in arrangingthe diamonds. Will you do me the pleasure, charmingEleonora, to accept my sister's aid?
Eleon. [Coldly.] My mamma never wears diamonds.
Aram. Do not be silly, child. I did not weardiamonds, because my husband was too prudent toindulge in such expenses; but, if the Count thinkdifferently, complaisance requires your acquiescence.
Eleon. But, you know, mamma—
Aram. Oh, I know—I know, child! You do notknow good breeding. Accept them gratefully.
Eleon. [Aside.] Unhappy me!—[To the Count.]Signor—I am greatly obliged.
Dor. [Apart to the Count.] Are you satisfied withsuch a cold manner?
Count. Perfectly.
Dor. Have you no dissatisfaction; no fears?
Count. Not the least.
Dor. [Aside.] What a singular man is my brother?
Scene V.—Enter Frontino.
Front. Here is a letter, sir.
Count. With your permission, ladies.
Aram. By all means. [To Dorimene.] Let us examinethe jewels a little.
Count. [To himself, having read the letter.] The marquiscomes at an ill time! After a dinner of thirtyguests, I must give him a supper! He asks it withso little ceremony too! How can it be managed?
Dor. What is the matter, brother?
Count. [Affecting cheerfulness.] Nothing, nothing. Ihave just received news which gives me pleasure. TheMarquis del Bosco is arrived, and coming to sup withme this evening.
Eleon. [Agitated.] What do I hear?
Aram. I know the Marquis; his county seat is notthree miles distant from mine.
Count. You will see him this evening, with theMarchioness his daughter, and the Chevalier his son.
Eleon. [Still more agitated.] The Chevalier! OHeaven!
Count. I hope they will be in time to be present, whenwe sign the contract.
Eleon. [Still aside.] Fatal trial! How shall I supportit?
Aram. What is the matter, daughter?
Eleon. Nothing—not much—a sudden giddiness.
Count. [To Araminta.] For Heaven's sake, take careof—[To Frontino.] Don't go.
Aram. The open air will revive her.
Dor. Let us walk into the garden.
Aram. By all means.
Dor. Is the door open, brother?
Count. No; but here is the key.
Dor. [Aside.] He will trust it to nobody, but has italways in his pocket.—Come, Eleonora.—[Aside.] Thismay be a proper opportunity. [Retiring with Eleonora.]
Count. [To Araminta.] I hope, Madame, this attackis trifling; but the young lady should not be exposedto the least danger. If you think proper, we will deferthe dinner of to-day, and have a supper instead.
Aram. Just as you please—but your dinners andsuppers—I have much to say to you on such subjects.My daughter may want me; I will return presently.
Scene VI.
Count. [Earnestly.] Hark ye, Frontino! send messengersimmediately, to inform the guests I have invitedthat, instead of dinner, I entreat them to honour mewith their company at supper.
Front. So, so! But it will be difficult to find themall, so late in the day.
Count. No matter. Those who may come to dinnermust be told of the change. They will return tosupper, or not, as they please.
Front. Yes, Signor.—[Aside.] Admirable! quite incharacter! [Exit.
Count. This visit comes at a lucky time! Nothingcould be more fortunate.
Scene VII.—Enter Araminta
Count. Well, dear Madame? Eleonora?
Aram. All, I hope, will be well.
Count. Then I shall be happy; for health should beour first care. I have sent round to the guests, withan invitation to supper this evening.
Aram. Thirty persons at supper!
Count. I hope so, Madame.
Aram. Permit me to speak openly, and tell you allI think.
Count. You cannot give me greater pleasure.
Aram. Is it not extreme folly to assemble thirtypersons, twenty of whom, at least, will make a jest ofyou?
Count. A jest of me?
Aram. Beyond all doubt. Do not think I am avaricious;thank heaven, that is not my defect; but Icannot endure to see money squandered.
Count. But, on such a day, and under such circumstances.
Aram. Are they your relations, whom you haveinvited?
Count. By no means. A select company; thenobility! the literati! the magistracy! all persons ofdistinction.
Aram. Worse and worse! Vanity, ostentation, folly!My good friend, you do not know the value of money.
Count. [Smiles.] I do not know the value of money!
Aram. Alas, you do not! Your sister made mebelieve you were economical; had I known the truth,I should never have married my daughter to a spendthrift.
Count. So you think me a spendthrift!
Aram. I first perceived it by the considerable sumyou threw away in the purchase of a title; which sacrificeto vanity has no beneficial end.
Count. How! Are you not aware the rank I haveacquired will impress a character of respect on myself,your daughter, and our descendants?
Aram. Quite the reverse. I would have rather givenmy daughter to you, as Signor Anselmo Colombani, awell-known merchant, than to the Count of Casteldoro,a newly-made nobleman.
Count. But, Madame—
Aram. Your ancestors have saved what you willscatter.
Count. Scatter! I! You are mistaken, Madame.You do not know me.
Aram. Oh yes, yes. I saw the manner in which,without any knowledge of diamonds, or asking theleast advice, you were led away by the jeweller.
Count. Oh, with respect to the diamonds—
Aram. Ah, ay! I know your answer. They are todecorate the Countess of Casteldoro. And who is theCountess of Casteldoro? My daughter, Signor, has beenwell educated, but with no such expectations. Everythinghas been done in abundance, that could contributeto convenience, decency, and information; butnothing to pomp and vanity. The ornaments of mydaughter ever will be modesty, obedience, and thatself-respect which she could not but acquire from suchan education.
Count. [A little moved.] But, Madame—
Aram. [Very warmly.] But, Signor—[softening]—I askyour pardon—Perhaps you may think me too warm; butI see you hurried into a gulf of expense that makesme tremble. My daughter's happiness is concerned:I give her a hundred thousand crowns in marriage.
Count. [Somewhat haughtily.] Am I not able to settlean equal sum upon her?
Aram. Yes, at present. But wealth will diminish;and especially when we have the vanity to be profuse,grand, and magnificent.
Count. I once more assure you, Madame, you do notknow me.
Aram. Signor, had you been a different person, Ihad conceived an excellent plan. My annual incomeis five-and-twenty thousand livres: I might have livedwith you and my daughter, and the two families mighthave become one; but, at present, Heaven preserve mefrom taking such a step!
Count. [Aside.] She will drive me mad!—[To Araminta.]Pray hear me. [Whispering and cunningly.] Youmistake my character. Few people indeed understandeconomy so well as I do, as you will soon be convinced.I willingly close with your proposal, and—
Aram. By no means! You try in vain to persuademe against conviction. Respecting my daughter—Ihave promised—we shall see—but for myself it isdifferent. Not all the gold on earth should induce meto make such an arrangement, with a man who doesnot know the use of money, but lets it slip through hisfingers faster than flour through a sieve. [Exit.
Count. This is admirable! I never imagined I shouldpass for a prodigal. [Exit.

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

ACT III.

Scene I.—The Count and Frontino.

Count. Frontino.
Front. Signor?
Count. Go and inquire how Eleonora is.
Front. One of your guests is without, and desires tospeak with you.
Count. Who is he?
Front. The young gentleman who lately read you acomedy written by himself.
Count. Oh! Signor Giacinto. Bid him enter.
Front. Please to come in, Signor. [Exit.
Scene II.—Enter Giacinto.
Count. Good morning, Signor Giacinto. I am verysorry that the messenger, sent by me, did not find youat home; he came to inform you that an accident hascaused me to put off the dinner, but that I hoped to seeyou at supper.
Giac. It is just the same to me, Signor. Meanwhile,permit me the honour to—
Count. I hope to see you without fail this evening.
Giac. I am infinitely obliged to you; but, havingnow the good fortune to find you alone, and at leisure,I wish to lay before you certain alterations made in thededicatory epistle; as I have nothing so much at heartas your satisfaction.
Count. Well, Signor Giacinto, since you are absolutelyresolved to dedicate your comedy to me, I havethought—it would be best to inform you—of certainparticulars respecting myself. Not from vanity—ohno! Heaven preserve me from that!—but solely togive an opportunity to your eloquence, and lustre toyour work.
Giac. You see, Signor, I have made a good use ofthe materials which you have so kindly furnished; butI have done something more.
Count. Have you mentioned my pictures?
Giac. Oh yes.
Count. And my library?
Giac. Certainly.
Count. Including the books which I told you I intendto purchase?
Giac. But—Signor—a catalogue of books in adedication—
Count. Where is the difficulty? You may say, in anote at the bottom of the page, the Count of Casteldoropossesses a superb library, of not less than ten thousandvolumes. A man of wit, like you, knows how to takeadvantage of everything. The supper of this evening,for example, may furnish some new ideas—somethinganimated, witty, poetical.
Giac. That may be possible; but I have been employedon a subject more essential: I have writtenyour genealogy.
Count. [Coldly.] My genealogy? No, no, friend. Ihave no taste for that science. You might, I grant,say things that should happen to do me honour; but Iam an enemy to vanity, and would prefer reticence,especially on the question of genealogy.
Giac. As you please; but I have made discoveriesthat have cost me much time and study, of which Ithought you might wish to be informed.
Count. [With curiosity.] Discoveries that relate tome?
Giac. That relate to you, Signor.
Count. My dear Signor Giacinto, let me hear.
Giac. Your true family name is not Colombani.
Count. I grant it may have been changed.
Giac. Do me the favour to listen. The greatColumbus, who discovered America, and who wasennobled by the king of Spain, had two brothers, andvarious relations. Now, in looking through authors todiscover annotations for my Life of Petrarch, I foundthat one of the relations of Christopher Columbus wentfrom Genoa, his native place, to the city of Avignon, inFrance. By corruption of the termination, I find thename of Colombo or Columbus, has been changed toColombani; and I demonstrate, beyond all doubt, thatyou are a descendant of that ancient, illustrious family.
Count. [Much pleased.] You have demonstrated it?
Giac. Here are my proofs. [Presenting papers.]
Count. [Receiving them.] From the little I can nowrecollect, I believe you are right. Ay, ay; it might be.I do not love ostentation, as you perceive, but I shallbe highly pleased if your discovery can do yourselfhonour; I therefore have not the courage to forbid thepublication. Have you presented your comedy to thecomedians?
Giac. Yes, Signor.
Count. And they certainly received it with approbation?
Giac. On the contrary, Signor, it has been peremptorilyrefused.
Count. Refused!
Giac. You have heard it read: does it deserve such areward?
Count. If the comedy be good, why is it refused?Their interest should oblige them to accept it, withthanks.
Giac. What can be expected from such ignorantjudges? But I will have my revenge! It shall beprinted! The public shall decide!
Count. Bravo! You are right; have it printed. Itmight not be greatly successful on the stage, but in thecloset it will delight. Your sale will be prodigious.
Giac. Since you approve and encourage me, Signor,would you but have the goodness to pass your word forthe expense of printing, and—
Count. [With a determined tone.] There is no need ofthat. Apply to a good bookseller; let him have hisprofits, and he will answer for the whole.
Giac. To speak the truth, Signor, I have in vainapplied to more than one. At last, a bookseller hasagreed that, if the Count of Casteldoro will make himselfresponsible, he will undertake to publish it on myaccount.
Count. How! Have you mentioned my name?
Giac. I could not avoid it.
Count. You have done very ill. Should it be knownthat I take an interest in the comedy, it would be saidI did so because of the dedication; and I should thenappear ridiculous. Drop all thoughts of the press atpresent; a more favourable opportunity may occur.
Giac. But, Signor—
Scene III.—Enter Frontino.
Count. Well, Frontino, what answer?
Front. The young lady is rather better, Signor.
Count. Rather better! But is she well enough to—Iwill go and inquire myself.—[To Giacinto.] You see,Signor, a young lady is ill in my house, and the suppermust be deferred. Another time. [Going.]
Giac. Then if the manuscript be useless, Signor—
Count. True; it shall be returned. [Going.]
Giac. I beg you to recollect the time and trouble ithas cost me.
Count. [Returning the manuscript.] Very right! Youare fond of your own works: I am glad they give yousatisfaction, and cannot but thank you for any labourtaken on my account. Whenever I can serve you, praycommand me.
Giac. Infinitely obliged to the generosity of SignorCount Casteldoro.—[Aside.] What ingratitude! Sordidfellow! He shall pay for this, or I am mistaken. [Exit.
Count. One guest the less. But I must inquire afterEleonora. [Going.]
Fior. [Without.] Ho, there! Is nobody to be found?
Front. This is Fiorillo, the servant of the Marquis.
Scene IV.—Enter Fiorillo, in a travelling dress.
Fior. [Bows.] Signor Count, my master, the Marquisdel Bosco, is coming. I rode before, as you perceive, toinform you that his carriage will soon arrive.
Count. [Coldly.] Arrive! What, here? And in hiscoach? Does he come to make any stay?
Fior. No, Signor. To-morrow morning he must begone to Versailles; for he has affairs at court.
Count. [Aside.] I am glad of it!—[Aloud, pompously.]I hope the Marquis will do me the honour to remainwith me to-night, in company with his son, theChevalier. With respect to the Marchioness—I'll speakto my sister, and hope she may also be accommodated,as becomes her rank.
Fior. The Marchioness del Bosco does not come withher father; she is with the Countess d'Orimon, heraunt, and is to remain at her house.
Count. [Aside.] So much the better.—[Aloud.] Thatis unfortunate. I hope, however, I shall have thepleasure of seeing her. [Exit.
Scene V.—Frontino and Fiorillo.
Fior. Your master, like your kitchen, smells well!
Front. We are to have a magnificent supper to-night;no less than thirty guests.
Fior. Indeed! Your master is superb. A rareservice! Much to eat, and little to do! Then, as towages, you will make your fortune, Frontino!
Front. Fortune! I can't say—perhaps!
Fior. You have been long with this master.
Front. Very true; I have an attachment to him.
Fior. And so have I to mine, but without the hope ofsaving a farthing in his service. If it were not for theprofits of the card-tables, I should certainly leave him.
Front. Then you have much play?
Fior. A great deal.
Front. And no less profit?
Fior. Hum—tolerable; but not equal to you.
Front. I! Shall I speak plain to a fellow-servant?I have little wages, and no tips.
Fior. Then you are foolish, Frontino. In Paris, soclever a fellow as yourself may find a hundred services,in which he might profit in a hundred different ways.
Front. Do you know any one?
Fior. Certainly; but you are attached to yourmaster?
Front. To part with him would not break my heart.
Fior. If he pays so ill, he does not like you.
Front. That's a mistake; I am his prime ministerand favourite.
Fior. What do you mean? Were he miserly, so be it;but a generous—
Front. Generous! You little know my master.
Fior. How so? A supper for thirty guests—
Front. Ah, did you know what it will cost me!
Fior. You! Cost you!
Front. Me. Grumbled at, cross-questioned, put tothe torture, almost afraid of my life, when I give in mybill. I tremble but to think of it!
Fior. So, so! Very different with us; our master iseasily satisfied, and always gay and good-humoured.He has an odd manner of speaking, indeed, and nevertells you more than half what he means. He hasfavourite words, which, right or wrong, he always uses.Everybody laughs at him, and he laughs at himself.
Front. I wish I had such a master!
Fior. The worst of it is, he is poor, and seldom hasany money.
Front. Yet you say he plays?
Fior. Very true; he always finds money for that. Ihear a coach.
Front. Which way does he—
Fior. [At the window.] Be quiet! Yes, they are here.
Front. I want to hear more.
Fior. Run and tell your master.
Front. [Aside.] I shall hear it all; he can't hold histongue. [Exit.
Fior. Frontino is a good fellow, but he talks toomuch; that's his fault.
Scene VI.—Enter the Marquis.
Marq. Where is he? Where is the Count?
Fior. His servant is gone to tell him you are here.
Marq. Go, go; see—Good, good, excellent!—Hisservant?
Fior. Will soon be back.
Marq. Meanwhile—My horses—Nothing to eat—Poordevils—They have done—Good, good, excellent!You might go and see—
Fior. Yes, at once.—[Aside and going.] I defy all theservants in the world to understand him as I do. [Exit.
Scene VII.—Enter the Chevalier.
Chev. My dear father! How can I thank you forall your kindness?
Marq. Say no more—father to be sure—But withyou, in truth—You are strange sometimes.
Chev. Most true! Had you not discovered mypassion, I scarcely should have dared to own it.
Marq. Keen eyes—Why not, dear boy? Why not?and then I know that Eleonora—Do you know hermother?
Chev. I am slightly acquainted with her, but notenough to speak on such a subject.
Marq. A lady that—Are you at least sure of thedaughter?
Chev. Perfectly. I have met her at her cousins, and—wehave corresponded.
Marq. Good, good, excellent! We shall want—TheCount is my friend.
Chev. And I am acquainted with his sister, MadameDorimene. I will beg her to entreat for me. Herecomes the Count.
Scene VIII.—Enter the Count.
Count. Pardon me, Marquis, but—
Marq. Ah, Count! Good day—Good day—Yourhealth—Mine—you see—splendidly well, at yourservice.
Count. Still the same! Always courteous!
Marq. Oh, I … Good, good; excellent!
Count. And you, Chevalier?
Chev. Always your humble servant.
Count. Is the Marchioness with you?
Marq. My daughter? She has come with—You knowher aunt?
Count. Yes, I have the pleasure of knowing her,and will call and pay the ladies my respects—Ihope to have the honour of their company atsupper.
Marq. Always obliging—Good, good, excellent!—Oughtto apologise—Come suddenly—No ceremony, Ibeg.
Count. None on earth. I shall only give you myordinary supper.
Marq. Good, good, excellent! Family meals—friendly.
Count. Your apartments are here, on the right.They tell me you go to Versailles to-morrow.
Marq. Yes—because—
Count. I am sorry to lose you so soon: but, as I wassaying, these apartments shall be yours.
Chev. Permit me, Signor Count, to pay my respectsto your sister.
Count. You will do me an honour, and give herpleasure.
Chev. [To his father.] Have I your leave, sir?
Marq. Certainly.—[Aside.] Poor fellow! He is—butwhen I was like him—yes, I did as he does.
Count. We may all go together, if you please.
Marq. Ha!—[Aside.] No; must not spoil sport.—[Aloud.]Go by himself.
Chev. [Going.] I know my way.
Count. You will meet a young lady there, withwhom perhaps you are acquainted.
Chev. [Eager to go.] Indeed? So much the better!
Count. I have something to tell you concerning her,which perhaps you do not know—
Chev. [Aside.] Too well! I am on the rack!
Count. But which you will be glad to hear.
Chev. [Aside.] Heavens! Perhaps Eleonora mayhave discovered our passion to her mother—I rush tosee. [Exit.
Scene IX.—Count and the Marquis.
Marq. [Looking round.] Now we are alone—Haveyou time?
Count. I am at your disposal.
Marq. You are my friend.
Count. The title does me honour.
Marq. Good, good, excellent!
Count. [Aside.] He is sometimes very ridiculous.
Marq. I should like to beg you—but—a friend,unceremoniously, freely.
Count. [Aside.] I bet he wants to borrow money.
Marq. You know my family—
Count. Perfectly.
Marq. I have two children, and must think—adaughter too—Good, good, excellent!—The Chevalier isat an age—you understand me?
Count. I believe I do. You are seriously thinkingof establishing your family, which is highly commendable.And, talking of establishments, I think it butright in me to inform you of my approaching marriage.
Marq. Oh, oh!—that way inclined—you too—Good,good, excellent!
Count. I am this day to sign the contract, and thinkmyself fortunate that you, Signor Marquis, will bepresent, and—
Marq. Very happy—but, at the same time, if youwould be so kind—
Count. You well know, Signor Marquis, the variousexpenses of these occasions; they are endless. To ownthe truth, I find my pocket empty.
Marq. Good, good, excellent!
Count. Good! I find it exceedingly ill.
Marq. Listen—You are the friend of MadameAraminta.
Count. True; and she, for example, is remarkablyrich; she might be of service to your house.
Marq. Precisely so—my very thought—would youbut speak to her, but without—What is her daughter'sname?
Count. Eleonora.
Marq. True—bad memory—Eleonora.
Count. [Aside.] If I had not a great deal of penetration,I could never guess what he means.—[Aloud.] Iwill speak privately to Madame Araminta.
Marq. Ay, but—in a particular manner—so that—youunderstand me?
Count. I will speak with all possible caution, andhope she will comply—provided she has good security.
Marq. By Jove! If she gives me—I have not—I amnot—but—my estates—
Count. What sum do you wish?
Marq. I heard that—ay—a hundred thousand crowns—quitesatisfied!—would not wish for more!
Count. [Aside.] A hundred thousand crowns! theloan is too great! She will scarcely consent to that.
Marq. When will you speak? Because when I havea project—no sooner said than done—it is in my nature.
Count. I will inform her to-day.
Marq. And you hope she—Good, good, excellent!
Count. I think Madame Araminta will comply, ifpossible; first out of regard to yourself, and next tome, who am on the point of becoming her son-in-law.
Marq. Ha!—what?—you?—
Count. I am to marry her daughter.
Marq. Marry!—when?—that true?—that possible?
Count. Why so excessively surprised, Signor Marquis?Do you see any reason to the contrary?
Marq. I—no—[Aside.] My son!—Fine affair!—Stupidfolly!
Count. Madame Araminta intends indeed to give ahundred thousand crowns with her daughter, but doyou think she will therefore not have so large a sumto lend you?
Marq. Lend me!—Zounds!—Lend me!
Scene X.
The Chevalier, making signs of disappointment and silenceto the Marquis, enters and goes off without being seenby the Count.
Count. But, if you please, I will speak to her.
Marq. [To the Chevalier.] Yes, yes, I understand.
Count. [Supposing the answer was to himself.] And willtell her—
Marq. By no means—don't think—no, no.
Count. Yes and no! I do not understand you, Signor.
Marq. Lend me!—to me?—I am—it is true—butthen I am not—Good, good, excellent!—I am not—
Count. If you will excuse me, I have business. Thoseare your apartments.—[Aside.] I never met such aridiculous man. [Exit.
Marq. The devil take him—he doesn't know what heis talking of. [Exit.

END OF THE THIRD ACT.