Cost. Who would ever have thought Monsieur de laCotterie had such a liking for me? It is true he hasalways treated me with politeness, and been ready toconverse with me; but I cannot say I have observedany great signs of love. Now I have always lovedhim, but have not had courage enough to show it. Iflatter myself he too loves me, and for the same reasonconceals it; in truth a modest officer is a strangeanimal, and it is hard to believe in its existence.Monsieur Philibert must have reasons for what hesays, and I am well pleased to think him not mistaken,especially as I have no evidence that he is so. Herecomes my handsome soldier—but Mademoiselle Gianninais with him; she never permits us to be alonetogether for a moment. I have some suspicion she ismy rival.
Enter Mademoiselle Giannina and De la Cotterie.
Gian. Keep your seat, Mademoiselle; excuse me forhaving left you alone for a little while. I know youwill be kind enough to forgive me, and I bring someone with me, who, I am sure, will secure your pardon.
Cost. Though surely in your own house and with areal friend such ceremony is needless, your company isalways agreeable. I desire you will put yourself to noinconvenience.
Gian. Do you hear, Lieutenant? You see we Dutchare not without wit.
De la Cot. This is not the first time I have observed it.
Cost. Monsieur de la Cotterie is in a house that doeshonour to our country, and if he admires ladies of wit,he need not go out of it.
Gian. You are too polite, Mademoiselle.
Cost. I simply do justice to merit.
Gian. Let us not dispute about our merits, butrather leave it to the Lieutenant to decide.
De la Cot. If you wish a decision, you must choose abetter judge.
Gian. A partial one, indeed, cannot be a good judge.
Cost. And to say nothing of partiality, he feels underobligations to you as the mistress of the house.
Gian. Oh, in France, the preference is always givento the guest: is it not so, Lieutenant?
De la Cot. It is no less the custom in Holland, thanin my own country.
Cost. That is to say, the greater the merit, the greaterthe distinction with which they are treated.
Gian. On that principle you would be treated withthe most distinction.
De la Cot. [Aside.] I shall get into trouble if thisconversation continues.
Cost. By your leave, Mademoiselle.
Gian. Why do you leave us so soon?
Cost. I am engaged to my aunt; I promised to dinewith her to-day, and it is not amiss to go early.
Gian. Oh, it is too early; your aunt is old, and youwill perhaps still find her in bed.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Do not prevent her from going.
Gian. He begs me to detain you.
Cost. I am overpowered by your politeness. [Curtseying.]—[Aside.]Her amusement is to torment me.
Gian. [To Costanza.] What say you, my friend, haveI not a good heart?
Cost. I must praise your kindness to me.
Gian. [To De la Cotterie.] And do you, too, own youare under obligations to me?
De la Cot. Yes, certainly, I have reason to be gratefulto you; you, who know my feelings, must be consciousof the great favour you do me. [Ironically.]
Gian. [To Costanza.] You hear him? he is delighted.
Cost. My dear friend, as you have such a regard forme, and take so much interest in him, allow me tospeak freely to you. Your worthy father has told mea piece of news that overwhelms me with joy andsurprise. If all he has told me be true, I pray you,Monsieur De la Cotterie, to confirm it.
Gian. This is just what I anticipated; but as yourconversation cannot be brief, and your aunt expectsyou, had you not better defer it to another opportunity?
De la Cot. [Aside.] Heaven grant I may not be stillmore involved!
Cost. A few words are all I ask.
Gian. Come, Lieutenant, take courage, and say all ina few words.
De la Cot. Indeed, I have not the courage.
Gian. No, my dear, it is impossible to express in afew words the infinite things he has to say to you.
Cost. It will be enough if he says but one word.
Gian. And what is that?
Cost. That he really loves me.
Gian. Pardon me; the Lieutenant is too polite tospeak of love to one young lady in the presence ofanother; but I can, by going away, give you an opportunityof conversing together, and so remove all obstaclesto an explanation. [Going.]
De la Cot. Stay, Mademoiselle!
Cost. Yes, and mortify me no more. Be assured Ishould never have spoken with the boldness I havedone, had you not led me to do so. I do not comprehendyour meaning; there is an inconsistency inyour conduct; but, be it as it may, time will bring thetruth to light. And now permit me to take leave.
Gian. My dear friend, pardon my inattention to youon first coming. You are mistress to go or remain asyou please.
Enter Philibert.
Phil. What delightful company! But why are youon your feet? why do you not sit down?
Gian. Costanza is just going.
Phil. [To Costanza.] Why so soon?
Gian. Her aunt expects her.
Phil. No, my dear young lady, do me the favour toremain; we may want you, and in affairs of this kindmoments are often precious. I have sent to yourfather, to say I desire to have a conversation with him;I am certain he will come. We will have a privateinterview, and, however little he may be inclined togive his consent, I shall press him so as not to leavehim time to repent; if we agree, I will call you bothimmediately into my room.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Our situation is becoming morecritical every moment.
Phil. [To De la Cotterie.] You seem to me to beagitated.
Gian. It is the excess of joy.
Phil. [To Costanza.] And what effect has hope onyou?
Cost. I have more fear than hope.
Phil. Rely on me. For the present, be content toremain here; and, as we do not know exactly whenyour father will come, stay to dinner with us.
Gian. She cannot stay, sir.
Phil. Why not?
Gian. Because she promised her aunt to dine withher to-day.
Cost. [Aside.] I see she does not wish me to remain.
Phil. The aunt who expects you is your father'ssister?
Cost. Yes, sir.
Phil. I know her; she is my particular friend.Leave it to me. I will get you released from theengagement, and, as soon as Monsieur Riccardo comeshere, I will send word to her where you are, and shewill be satisfied.
Cost. I am grateful, Monsieur Philibert, for yourgreat kindness; permit me for a moment to see myaunt, who is not well. I will soon return, and availmyself of your politeness.
Phil. Very well; come back quickly.
Cost. Good morning to you; you will soon see meagain.
Gian. Good-bye.—[Aside.] If she does not come backI shall not break my heart.
Phil. Adieu, my dear.—One moment. Lieutenant,for a man who has been in the wars, you do not seemquite as much at your ease as you should be.
Cost. Why do you say so, sir?
Phil. Because you are letting Mademoiselle go awaywithout taking notice of her—without one word ofcivility.
Cost. Indeed, he has said but few.
De la Cot. [To Philibert.] I ought not to abuse theprivilege you have given me.
Phil. [Aside.] I understand.—Giannina, a word withyou.
Gian. Yes, sir?
Phil. [Aside to Giannina.] It is not right for a younglady to thrust herself between two lovers in thismanner; on account of you, they cannot speak two wordsto each other.
Gian. [To Philibert.] They spoke in whispers together.
Phil. [To De la Cotterie.] Well, if you have anythingto say to her—
De la Cot. There will be time enough, sir.
Phil. [To Giannina.] Attend to me.
Cost. [Aside to De la Cotterie.] At least assure me ofyour affection.
De la Cot. [Aside to Costanza.] Excuse me, Mademoiselle.[Giannina coughs aloud.] [Aside.] I am exceedinglyembarrassed.
Cost. [Loud enough for all to hear.] Is it possible youwill not say once that you love me?
Gian. [To Costanza, with asperity.] How many timesdo you want him to tell you so? Did he not say sobefore me?
Phil. [To Giannina, with asperity.] No meddling, Itell you.
Cost. Do not disturb yourself, Mademoiselle; to seeclearly here is not easy. I wish you all a good morning.Adieu, Lieutenant.—[Aside.] He is worried bythis troublesome girl. [Exit.
Phil. [To Giannina.] I am not pleased with your ways.
Gian. My dear father, let me amuse myself a little.I, who am so free from love, like sometimes to vexthese lovers. As it was I who discovered their passionfor each other, they are under obligations to me for theirapproaching happiness; hence they may pardon my jokes.
Phil. You girls are the devil! but the time willcome, my daughter, when you will know how tryingto lovers are these little teasing ways. You are nowold enough, and the first good offer that presents itself,be prepared to accept it. What says Monsieur de laCotterie! Am I not right?
De la Cot. Quite right.
Gian. Monsieur Quite Right, that is for me to decide,not for you.
Phil. Are you averse to being married?
Gian. If I could find a husband to my taste—
Phil. I shall be pleased if he is to your taste—to minehe certainly must be; the fortune I intend for youwill make you equal to the best match in Holland.
Gian. The father of Mademoiselle Costanza says thesame.
Phil. Do you compare Monsieur Riccardo with me?or do you compare yourself to the daughter of abroker? You vex me when you talk so. I will hearno more.
Gian. But I do not say—
Phil. I'll hear no more. [Exit.
De la Cot. Ah, my Giannina, our affairs are worsethan ever. How much better not to have taken such astep!
Gian. Who could have foreseen my father wouldinvolve himself as he has done?
De la Cot. I see no remedy but my immediatedeparture.
Gian. Such weakness I did not expect.
De la Cot. Then I may be forced to marry MademoiselleCostanza.
Gian. Do so, if you have the heart.
De la Cot. Or shall the whole mystery be explained?
Gian. It would be a most unhandsome act, to exposeme to the shame of having contrived such a deception.
De la Cot. Then do you suggest some plan.
Gian. All I can say is this: think no more of goingaway. As to marrying Mademoiselle Costanza, it isabsurd; to discover our plot preposterous. Resolve,then, on some plan to secure at the same time ourlove, our reputation, and our happiness. [Exit.
De la Cot. Excellent advice! but among so manythings not to be done, where shall we find what is tobe done? Alas! nothing remains but absolute despair.[Exit.
Scene II.—Enter Monsieur Philibert, alone.
Phil. I can never believe Monsieur Riccardo refusesto come here; he knows who I am, and that it is to hisinterest not to offend one who can do him either goodor harm. He must remember I lent him ten thousandflorins when he commenced business, but there arepersons who easily forget benefits, and regard neitherfriends nor relations, when they can no longer makeuse of them.
Enter Marianna.
Mar. If I do not interrupt you, Monsieur Philibert,I would say something to you.
Phil. I am now at leisure.
Mar. I would speak to you of an affair of my own.
Phil. Well, be quick, for I am expecting company.
Mar. I will tell you in two words: with your permission,I would get married.
Phil. Get married, then! much good may it do you!
Mar. But this is not all, sir. I am a poor girl, andhave now lived ten years in your family; with whatattention and fidelity I have served you, you know. Iask you, not for the value of the thing, but as a markof your favour, to make me a small present.
Phil. Well, I will do something for you as a recompensefor your faithful services. Have you found ahusband?
Mar. Yes, sir.
Phil. Bravo! I am glad of it. And you tell me ofit after it is all arranged?
Mar. Pardon me, sir; I should not do so now, butaccident has led me to an engagement with a youngman of small means, which makes me come to you.
Phil. I will lay a wager it is the servant of the officerwith whom you are in love.
Mar. You are right, sir.
Phil. And are you willing to travel all over the worldwith him?
Mar. I am in hopes he will live here, if his mastermarries, as they say—
Phil. Yes, it is likely he will get married.
Mar. No one should know better than you, sir.
Phil. I am most anxious to see him happy.
Mar. As that is the case, sir, I consider it as thoughit were already done.
Phil. There may be difficulties in the way, but Ihope to overcome them.
Mar. There are none, I think, on the part of theyoung lady.
Phil. No; she is much in love with him.
Mar. That is evident.
Phil. And when do you propose to be married?
Mar. If it please you, sir, at the same time my younglady is married.
Phil. What young lady?
Mar. My mistress, your daughter.
Phil. If you wait till then, you will have time enough.
Mar. Do you think her marriage will be longdelayed?
Phil. Good! Before talking of her marriage, thehusband must be found.
Mar. Why, is there not a husband?
Phil. A husband! not that I know of.
Mar. You do not know?
Phil. Poor me! I know nothing of it. Tell mewhat you know, and do not hide the truth.
Mar. You astonish me! Is she not to marry Monsieurde la Cotterie? Did you not tell me so yourself,and that you were pleased at it?
Phil. Blockhead! Did you suppose I would givemy daughter to a soldier—the younger son of a poorfamily? to one who has not the means of supportingher in the way she has been accustomed to from herbirth?
Mar. Did you not say just now that Monsieur dela Cotterie was about to be married, and that you weremost anxious for his happiness?
Phil. To be sure I did.
Mar. And, pray, who is he to marry, if not MademoiselleGiannina?
Phil. Blockhead! Are there no girls at the Haguebut her?
Mar. He visits at no other house.
Phil. And does nobody come here?
Mar. I do not perceive that he pays attention to anyone but my young mistress.
Phil. Blockhead! Don't you know MademoiselleCostanza?
Mar. A blockhead cannot know everything.
Phil. Has my daughter made you her confidant?
Mar. She always speaks of the officer with thegreatest esteem, and expresses much pity for him.
Phil. And did you believe her pity proceeded fromlove?
Mar. I did.
Phil. Blockhead!
Mar. I know, too, he wanted to go away, because hewas in despair—
Phil. Well?
Mar. Fearing her father would not give his consent.
Phil. Excellent!
Mar. And are you not that father?
Phil. Are there no other fathers?
Mar. You gave me to understand they were to bemarried.
Phil. How absurd is your obstinacy!
Mar. I will venture my head I am right.
Phil. You should understand your mistress better,and respect her more than to think so.
Mar. Indeed, it is an honourable love.
Phil. Begone directly!
Mar. I see no great harm in it.
Phil. Here comes some one—Monsieur Riccardo. Goquickly.
Mar. You are too rough, sir.
Phil. Blockhead!
Mar. We shall see who is the blockhead, I or—
Phil. You or I the blockhead?
Mar. I—or that man passing along the street.[Exit.
Phil. Impertinent! whether she gets married or not,she shall stay no longer in my house. To have such anopinion of my daughter! Giannina is not capable ofit; no, not capable.
Enter Monsieur Riccardo.
Ric. Your servant, Monsieur Philibert.
Phil. Good day to you, Monsieur Riccardo. Excuseme if I have put you to any inconvenience.
Ric. Have you any commands for me?
Phil. I wish to have some conversation with you.Pray be seated.
Ric. I can spare but a few moments.
Phil. Are you much engaged just now?
Ric. Yes, indeed; among other things, I am harassedby a number of people about the case of the smugglerswho have been arrested.
Phil. I have heard of it. Are these poor people stillin prison?
Ric. Yes; and I wish they may remain there untiltheir house is utterly ruined.
Phil. And have you the heart to bear the tears oftheir children?
Ric. Had they not the heart to violate the laws ofthe customs—to defraud the revenue? I wish I couldcatch them oftener; do you not know that smugglerson conviction pay all costs?
Phil. [Aside.] Oh! his vile employment.
Ric. Well, what have you to say to me?
Phil. Monsieur Riccardo, you have a daughter tomarry.
Ric. Yes, and a plague to me she is.
Phil. Does her being in your house put you to anyinconvenience?
Ric. No; but the thought of providing for her whenshe marries does.
Phil. [Aside.] How contemptible!—If she wishes tomarry, you must provide for her.
Ric. I shall do so; I shall be obliged to do so; buton one of two conditions: without a fortune, if shemarries to please herself,—with one, if to please me.
Phil. I have a proposal to make to you.
Ric. Let me hear it, but be quick.
Phil. Do you know a certain French officer who isa guest in my house?
Ric. Do you propose him for my daughter?
Phil. Say I did, would you have any objection?
Ric. An officer, and a Frenchman! He shall havemy daughter neither with nor without a fortune.
Phil. Are you, then, opposed to the French and themilitary?
Ric. Yes, to both equally; much more so if they areunited in the same person. I hate the French, becausethey are not friends to commerce and industry, as weare; they care for nothing but suppers, the theatre, andamusement. With soldiers I have no reason to bepleased; I know how much I lose by them. Theycontend we contractors are obliged to maintain theirinfantry—their horse; and when they are in quarters,they waste a whole arsenal full of money.
Phil. The French officer of whom I speak is anhonourable man; he has no vice, and is moreover ofa noble family.
Ric. Is he rich?
Phil. He is a younger son.
Ric. If he is not rich, I value but little his nobility,and still less his profession.
Phil. My dear friend, let us speak confidentially. Aman like you, blessed with a large fortune, can neverbetter employ fifty or sixty thousand florins, than bybestowing them on his daughter, when she marries soworthy a man.
Ric. On this occasion, I would not give ten livres.
Phil. And to whom will you give your daughter?
Ric. If I am to dispose of so large a sum of money,I wish to place it in one of the best houses in Holland.
Phil. You will never do so.
Ric. I shall never do so?
Phil. No, never.
Ric. Why not?
Phil. Because the respectable houses in Holland haveno occasion to enrich themselves in this manner.
Ric. You esteem this French officer highly?
Phil. Most highly.
Ric. Why not then give him your own daughter?
Phil. Why not? Because—because I do not choose.
Ric. And I do not choose to give him mine.
Phil. There is some difference between you and me.
Ric. I do not perceive in what it consists.
Phil. We know very well how you began.
Ric. But we do not know how you will end.
Phil. Your language is too arrogant.
Ric. Were we not in your house, it should be stronger.
Phil. I will let you know who I am.
Ric. I am not afraid of you.
Phil. Go; we will speak of this again.
Ric. Yes, again.—[Aside.] If he ever falls into myhands—if I catch him in the least evasion of therevenue laws—I swear I will destroy him. [Exit.
Phil. A rascal! a brute without civility! an impertinentfellow!
Enter De la Cotterie.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Their conference, ending in analtercation, makes me hope he has refused hisdaughter.
Phil. [Aside.] I am not I, if I do not let himsee—
De la Cot. Monsieur—
Phil. An ill-tempered, worthless—
De la Cot. Are these compliments intended for me, sir?
Phil. Pardon me; I am carried away by my anger.
De la Cot. Who has offended you?
Phil. That insolent fellow, Monsieur Riccardo.
De la Cot. And has he refused his consent to themarriage?
Phil. [Aside.] I am sorry I must bring this newtrouble on the poor Lieutenant.
De la Cot. [Aside.] Heaven be praised! fortune at lastaids me.
Phil. My friend, never give way to resentment—toimpatience of temper.
De la Cot. Tell me the truth; does he refuse hisdaughter?
Phil. A man in this world ought to be prepared forany event.
De la Cot. I am impatient to hear the truth.
Phil. [Aside.] Ah! if I tell him, he will drop downdead.
De la Cot. [Aside.] This suspense is intolerable.
Phil. [Aside] Yet he must know.
De la Cot. By your leave, sir. [Going.]
Phil. Stay a moment.—[Aside.] If he goes, there isdanger he will destroy himself from despair.
De la Cot. Why not tell me at once what he said toyou?
Phil. Control yourself. Do not give way to despair,because an avaricious, presumptuous, ignorant fatherrefuses to marry his daughter respectably. There is away to manage it in spite of him.
De la Cot. No, sir; when the father refuses, it is notproper for me to persist.
Phil. Well, what do you mean to do?
De la Cot. To go far away, and to sacrifice my love tohonour, duty, and universal quiet.
Phil. And have you the heart to abandon a girl wholoves you?—to leave her a prey to despair?—soon toreceive the sad intelligence of her illness, perhaps ofher death!
De la Cot. Ah, Monsieur Philibert, your words willkill me! if you knew their force, you would be cautioushow you used them.
Phil. My words will conduct you to joy, to peace, tohappiness.
De la Cot. Ah, no! rather to sorrow and destruction.
Phil. It is strange that a man of spirit like youshould be so easily discouraged.
De la Cot. If you knew my case, you would not talkso.
Phil. I know it perfectly, but do not consider itdesperate. The girl loves you—you love her passionately.This will not be the first marriage betweenyoung persons that has taken place without the consentof parents.
De la Cot. Do you approve of my marrying thedaughter without the consent of the father?
Phil. Yes—in your case—considering the circumstances,I do approve of it. If the father is rich, youare of a noble family. You do him honour by theconnection; he provides for your interest by a gooddowry.
De la Cot. But, sir, how can I hope for any dowrywhen I marry his daughter in this manner? Thefather, offended, will refuse her the least support.
Phil. When it is done, it is done. He has but thisonly child; his anger may last a few days, and thenhe must do what so many others have done: he willreceive you as his son-in-law, and perhaps make youmaster of his house.
De la Cot. And may I hope for this?
Phil. Yes, if you have courage.
De la Cot. I do not want courage; the difficulty liesin the means.
Phil. There is no difficulty in the means. Hear mysuggestions. Mademoiselle Costanza must now be ather aunt's. Do what I tell you. Give up your dinnerto-day, as I shall do mine on your account. Go and findher. If she loves you in earnest, persuade her to showher love by her actions. If the aunt is favourable toyour designs, ask her protection, and then, if the girlconsents, marry her.
De la Cot. And if the injured father should threatento send me to prison?
Phil. Carry her with you into France.
De la Cot. With what means? With what money?
Phil. Wait a moment. [Goes and opens a bureau.]
De la Cot. [Aside.] Oh, Heavens! how unconscious ishe that he is encouraging me to an enterprise, of whichthe injury may fall on his own head!
Phil. Take this. Here are a hundred guineas ingold, and four hundred more in notes: these fivehundred guineas will serve you for some time; acceptthem from my friendship. I think I can make thefather of the girl return them to me.
De la Cot. Sir, I am full of confusion—
Phil. What confuses you? I am astonished at you!you want spirit; you want courage. Go quickly, anddo not lose a moment. In the meantime, I will observethe movements of Monsieur Riccardo, and if there isany danger of his surprising you, I will find persons tokeep him away. Let me know what happens, either inperson or by note. My dear friend, you seem alreadyto have recovered your spirits. I rejoice for your sake.May fortune be propitious to you!—[Aside.] I amanxious to see Monsieur Riccardo in a rage—in despair.[Closes the bureau.]
De la Cot. [Aside.] He gives me counsel, and moneyto carry it into effect. What shall I resolve on? whatplan shall I follow? Take fortune on the tide; andhe can blame no one but himself, who, contriving astratagem against another, falls into his own snare. [Exit.
Monsieur Philibert, alone.
Phil. In truth, I feel some remorse of conscience forthe advice and aid I have given. I remember, too, thatI have a daughter, and I would not have such an injurydone to me. Nature tells us, and the law commands,not to do to others what we should not wish done tous. But I am carried along by several reasons; acertain gentleness of disposition inclining me to hospitality,to friendship, makes me love the Lieutenant, andtake almost the same interest in him as if he were myson. The marriage appears to me to be a suitable one,the opposition of Monsieur Riccardo unjust, and hisseverity to his daughter tyranny. Add to all this theuncivil treatment I have received from him, the desireto be revenged, and the pleasure of seeing his pridehumbled. Yes, if I lose the five hundred guineas, Ishall have the satisfaction of seeing my friend madehappy, and Monsieur Riccardo mortified.
Enter Mademoiselle Costanza.
Cost. Here I am, sir.
Phil. [Disturbed.] What brings you here?
Cost. Did you not send for me?
Phil. [As before.] Have you seen Monsieur de laCotterie?
Cost. No, sir, I have not seen him.
Phil. Return at once to your aunt's.
Cost. Do you drive me from your house?
Phil. No, I do not drive you away, but I advise youI entreat. Go quickly, I tell you.
Cost. I wish to know the reason.
Phil. You shall know it when you are at your aunt's.
Cost. Has anything new occurred?
Phil. Yes, there is something new.
Cost. Tell me what it is.
Phil. Monsieur de la Cotterie will tell you.
Cost. Where is he?
Phil. At your aunt's.
Cost. The Lieutenant has not been there.
Phil. He is this moment gone there.
Cost. What for?
Phil. Return; then you will know it.
Cost. Have you spoken to my father?
Phil. Yes; ask your husband that is to be.
Cost. My husband!
Phil. Yes, your husband.
Cost. Monsieur de la Cotterie?
Phil. Monsieur de la Cotterie.
Cost. May I rely on it?
Phil. Go directly to your aunt's.
Cost. Please tell me what has happened.
Phil. Time is precious; if you lose time, you loseyour husband.
Cost. Ah me! I will run with all speed; would thatI had wings to my feet. [Exit.
Enter Mademoiselle Giannina.
Phil. Two words from the Lieutenant are worth morethan a thousand from me.
Gian. Is what Monsieur de la Cotterie has told metrue, sir?
Phil. What has he told you?
Gian. That you advised him to marry the girl withoutthe consent of her father.
Phil. Did he tell you this in confidence?
Gian. Yes, sir.
Phil. [Aside.] I am displeased at his indiscretion.
Gian. And that you gave him five hundred guineasto aid him in the scheme.
Phil. [Aside.] Imprudent! I am almost sorry Idid so.
Gian. Your silence confirms it; it is true, then?
Phil. Well, what do you say to it?
Gian. Nothing, sir. It is enough for me to knowyou did it. Your humble servant, sir.
Phil. Where are you going?
Gian. To amuse myself.
Phil. In what manner?
Gian. With the marriage of Monsieur de la Cotterie.
Phil. But it has not taken place yet.
Gian. I hope it soon will.
Phil. Be cautious—mention it to no one.
Gian. Never fear; it will be known as soon as it isover. You will have the credit of contriving it, and Ishall be most happy when it is done. [Exit.
Phil. [Alone.] I hope she will not imitate this badexample; but there is no danger. She is a good girl,and, like me, can distinguish between cases, and understandswhat is proper; and as I know how she has beenbrought up, under my own care, I have no apprehensionssuch a misfortune may befall me.

END OF THE SECOND ACT.

ACT III.

Scene I.—Philibert and Marianna.

Mar. Excuse me for interrupting you again.
Phil. I suppose you have some new piece of nonsense?
Mar. I hope you will not again call me blockhead.
Phil. Not unless you utter more absurdities.
Mar. I have only to tell you I am just going to bemarried, and to bespeak your kindness.
Phil. Then you have determined to marry beforeyour mistress?
Mar. No, sir; she is to be married to-day, and Ishall be married to-morrow.
Phil. And you do not wish me to call you blockhead?
Mar. You still persist in concealing it from me?
Phil. Concealing what?
Mar. The marriage of my young lady.
Phil. Are you out of your senses?
Mar. Now, to show you I am not so foolish, I willown a fault I have committed, from curiosity. I stoodbehind the hangings, and heard Monsieur de la Cotterietalking with your daughter, and it is fixed on that theyare to be married privately this evening, and you havegiven five hundred guineas on account of her portion.
Phil. On account of her portion! [Laughing.]
Mar. Yes, I think on account of her portion; I sawthe guineas with my own eyes.
Phil. Yes, you are foolish, more foolish, most foolish.
Mar. [Aside.] He vexes me so I hardly know whatto do.
Phil. The Lieutenant, however, has acted very improperly;he ought not to have mentioned it to mydaughter, especially when there was danger of beingoverheard.
Mar. If you hide it from me for fear I shall make itpublic, you do wrong to my discretion.
Phil. Your discretion, indeed! you conceal yourself,listen to what people are talking about, misunderstandthem, and then report such nonsense.
Mar. I was wrong to listen, I admit; but as to misunderstanding,I am sure I heard right.
Phil. You will force me to say or do something notvery pleasant.
Mar. Well, well! where did Mademoiselle Gianninago just now?
Phil. Where did she go?
Mar. Did she not go out with Monsieur de laCotterie?
Phil. Where?
Mar. I heard they went to Madame Gertrude's.
Phil. To my sister's?
Mar. Yes, sir.
Phil. Giannina may have gone there, not the Lieutenant.
Mar. I know they went out together, sir.
Phil. The Lieutenant may have accompanied her;my sister's house is near the place where he was to go;my daughter might choose to be at hand to hear thenews. I know all; everything goes on well, and I sayagain you are a blockhead.
Mar. [Aside.] This is too bad; I can scarcely keepmy temper.
Phil. See who is in the hall—I hear some one.
Mar. [Aside.] Oh, it will be excellent if a trick hasbeen played on the old gentleman! but it is impossible. [Exit.
Phil. [Alone.] Heaven grant it may end well! Theimprudence of the Lieutenant might have ruined theplot, but young persons are subject to these indiscretions.I fortunately had sense enough when I was a youngman, and have more now I am old.
Enter Gascoigne.
Gas. Your servant, Monsieur Philibert.
Phil. Good-day, my friend. What news have you?
Gas. My master sends his best compliments.
Phil. Where is the Lieutenant? What is he doing?How go his affairs?
Gas. I believe this note will give you full information.
Phil. Let us see. [Opens it.]
Gas. [Aside.] As he does not send me away, I willremain here.
Phil. [To himself.] There is a paper enclosed, whichseems to be written by my daughter. Let us first knowwhat my friend says.
Gas. [Aside.] Marianna is listening behind the hangings;she is as curious as I am.
Phil. [Reading.] "Monsieur: Your advice has encouragedme to a step which I should not have hadthe boldness to venture on, however urged by theviolence of my love." Yes, indeed, he wanted courage."I have carried Mademoiselle to a respectable andsecure house, that is to say, to her aunt's."
He must have met Costanza, and they have gonetogether. I did well to send her quickly; all my ownwork!
"The tears of the girl softened the good old lady,and she assented to our marriage." Excellent, excellent!it could not be better done.
"Orders were given for a notary to be called in, andthe marriage service was performed in the presence oftwo witnesses."
Admirable—all has gone on well. "I cannot expressto you my confusion, not having the courage to askanything but your kind wishes; the rest will be addedin the writing of your daughter, whom you will morereadily pardon. I kiss your hand."
What does he want of me that he has not the courageto ask, and gets my daughter to intercede? Let meread the enclosed. He must have gone immediately tomy sister's, to let Giannina know when the marriagewas over. Well, what says my daughter?
"Dear father." She writes well—a good mercantilehand; she is a fine girl, God bless her. "Permitme, through this letter, to throw myself at your feet,and to ask your pardon." Oh, Heavens! what has shedone?
"Informed by yourself of the advice you had givento Monsieur de la Cotterie, and of the money youfurnished him with to carry it into execution, I haveyielded to my affection, and married the Lieutenant."
Oh, infamous! Deceiver! traitress! abandoned!They have killed me!
Enter Marianna.
Mar. What has happened, sir?
Phil. Help me! support me! for Heaven's sake donot leave me!
Mar. How can such a blockhead help you?
Phil. You are right; laugh at me—abuse me—showme no mercy. I deserve it all, and I give you fullliberty to do so.
Mar. No; I feel compassion for you.
Phil. I am not worthy of your compassion.
Gas. Do not, sir, abandon yourself to despair; mymaster is an honourable gentleman, of a noble family.
Phil. He has ruined my daughter; he has destroyedmy hopes.
Mar. You are able to provide handsomely for him.
Phil. And shall my estate go in this way?
Gas. Pardon me, sir; the same arguments you urgedto convince Monsieur Riccardo may serve to convinceyourself.
Phil. Ah, traitor! do you amuse yourself at my folly?
Mar. Gascoigne speaks to the purpose, and you haveno right to complain of him. [With warmth.]
Phil. Yes, insult me, rejoice at my disgrace!
Mar. I have pity on you, blinded as you are by anger.
Gas. Condemn yourself for the fruits of your ownbad advice.
Phil. Why deceive me? why make me believe thelove of the officer was for Mademoiselle Costanza?
Gas. Because love is full of stratagems, and teacheslovers to conceal their passion, and to contrive schemesfor their own happiness.
Phil. And if Monsieur Riccardo had agreed to themarriage of his daughter, what a figure I should havemade in the affair!
Gas. My master never asked you to interfere for him.
Phil. No, but he let me do it.
Gas. Say, rather, that you did not understand him.
Phil. In short, they have betrayed and cheated me;the conduct of my daughter is treacherous, and that ofthe Lieutenant infamous.
Gas. You should speak more respectfully, sir, of anofficer.
Mar. Remember, soldiers swear swords.
Phil. Yes, that is right; all he has to do now is tokill me.
Gas. My master has no such cruel design; you willsoon see him come to ask your pardon.
Phil. I do not wish to see him at all.
Gas. Your daughter, then, shall come instead of him.
Phil. Name her not to me.
Mar. Your own flesh and blood, sir!
Phil. Ungrateful! she was my love—my only joy.
Gas. What is done cannot be undone.
Phil. I know it, insolent—I know it too well.
Gas. Do not be offended with me, sir.
Mar. Have compassion on him, his anger overpowershim. My poor master! he hoped to marry his daughterto a man of his own choice—to have her always nearhim—to see his grandchildren around him—to delightin their caresses, and to instruct them himself.
Phil. All my hopes are gone; no consolation is leftfor me.
Gas. Do you think, sir, your excellent son-in-law, aworthy Frenchman, and a good soldier, cannot providegrandchildren for you?
Mar. Not a year shall pass, but you will see the finestboy in the world gambolling around your feet.
Phil. My hatred for the father will make me hate thechild.
Mar. Oh, the sense of consanguinity will cause youto forget every injury.
Gas. You have one only daughter in the world; canyou have the heart to abandon her—never to see hermore?
Phil. My anguish of mind will kill me. [Covers hisface with his hands.]
Mar. Gascoigne!
Gas. What do you say?
Mar. Do you understand me? [Makes a sign for himto go out.]
Gas. I understand.
Mar. Now is the time.
Gas. So it may prove.
Phil. What do you say?
Mar. I am telling Gascoigne to go away, to disturbyou no longer, and not to abuse your patience.
Phil. Yes, let him leave me.
Gas. Your servant, sir. Excuse me, if, after havingcommitted such an offence in your house, you see meno more. My master, as things appear at present, willbe forced to leave this, and to carry his wife to France.Have you no message to your poor daughter?
Phil. Do you think he will go away so soon?
Gas. He told me, if he received no kind answer fromyou, to order horses immediately.
Mar. It is a great grief to a father never to see hisdaughter again.
Phil. Is your master a barbarian? is he so ungrateful?Could I have done more for him? And he has used mewith the greatest inhumanity; to seduce the heart ofmy daughter, and the whole time to conceal it from me.
Gas. He would willingly have brought her to youbefore now, but for the fear of your resentment.
Phil. Perfidious! I have to applaud him for his handsomeaction,—I have to be grateful for his treachery;he shuns the reproaches of an offended father,—he cannotbear to hear himself called traitor.
Gas. I understand; by your leave. [Going.]
Phil. Tell him he must never dare to come inmy presence; I do not wish to see him,—I do notdesire it.
Gas. [Aside.] I understand perfectly; nature neverfails. [Exit.
Mar. [Aside.] Matters will soon be accommodated.
Phil. [To himself.] My own injury! this is good!—tomy own injury!
Mar. To turn your thoughts from this subject, sir,may I now speak to you concerning my own affairs?
Phil. I need nothing else to torment me but for youto talk of your marriage. I hate the very word, andnever wish to hear it again while I live.
Mar. It seems, then, you want the world to come toan end.
Phil. For me it is ended.
Mar. My poor master! and where will your estatego—your riches?
Phil. May the devil take them!
Mar. You would die rich, and let your daughter livein want?
Phil. Poor unhappy girl!
Mar. And would you carry this hatred in yourbosom, and feel remorse at your death?
Phil. Be silent, devil! torture me no more.
Enter Mademoiselle Costanza.
Cost. Monsieur Philibert, you have made sport of me.
Phil. [Aside.] This was wanting to complete all.
Cost. I have been waiting two hours, and no one hasappeared.
Phil. [Aside.] I know not what answer to make.
Cost. Did you not urge me to return to my aunt's,telling me the Lieutenant would be there?
Mar. My young lady, you shall hear how it was.The Lieutenant had to go to the aunt's,—and to theaunt's he went. There he was to have an understandingwith Mademoiselle,—and he had an understandingwith Mademoiselle. But the poor gentleman mistookthe house: instead of going to Aunt Hortensia's hefound himself at Aunt Gertrude's, and instead ofmarrying Mademoiselle Costanza, he has marriedMademoiselle Giannina.
Cost. Can it be possible they have laughed at anddeceived me in this manner? Speak, Monsieur Philibert;tell me truly what has been done, and do notsuppose me patient enough to submit to such an injury.
Phil. Oh, if I submit to it, you must submit too.
Cost. And what have you to submit to?
Phil. On your account I have been accessory to theruin of my daughter.
Cost. On my account?
Phil. Yes; the machine I contrived for you hasfallen on my own head.
Mar. Fortunately my master's skull is reasonablythick.
Cost. I understand nothing of all this.
Phil. I will tell you plainly and distinctly the wholeaffair. Know then—
Enter Monsieur Riccardo.
Ric. [To Costanza.] What are you doing here?
Phil. [To himself.] Another torment!
Cost. Sir, you have never forbidden my coming here.
Ric. Well, now I forbid it. I know what you havecome for; I know your love for the foreigner, and yourschemes against my authority and your own honour.
Phil. [To Riccardo, with asperity.] You know nothing.If you knew as much as I do, you would not speak so.
Ric. I speak so in consequence of what you told methis morning, and no light matter it is; enough tomake me forbid my daughter's coming to your house.
Mar. Are you afraid they will marry her againstyour wishes?
Ric. I may well fear it.
Mar. Listen to me: if she does not marry my master,there is nobody else here for her to marry.
Ric. Where is the Frenchman—the officer?
Mar. Shall I tell him, sir?
Phil. Ah! he will hear it soon enough.
Mar. Know, then, the officer has presumed to marrymy young mistress.
Ric. Ah! [With surprise.]
Phil. Oh! [With vexation.]
Cost. This is the wrong I apprehended. Ah, myfather, resent the insult they have offered to me! Theyhave made use of me to accomplish their designs; theyhave flattered me to expose me to ridicule; and theinjury I have received is an insult to our family.
Ric. Yes, I will resent the insult they have offeredto me. You I will send to a convent; and MonsieurPhilibert makes amends for his offence by his ownshame.
Phil. [Aside.] Quite right—I deserve yet more.
Cost. [Aside.] Wretched me! to what am I broughtby my passion, my wretchedness, and disobedience!
Phil. My dear friend, excuse my impatient manner.I acknowledge the injustice I have done you, andHeaven punishes me rightly for my improper intentions.Ah, Monsieur Riccardo, I have lost mydaughter!—I contrived my own disgrace!
Ric. Lost! she is only married—not entirely lost.
Phil. I fear I shall never see her again. Who knowsbut that monster has already carried her away? I gavehim five hundred guineas to carry away my heart—mydaughter—my only daughter—my love—my onlylove! Ah, could I embrace her once more! I wish toknow if she is gone; I want to see her again. If sheis gone, I will kill myself with my own hand. [Going,meets his daughter.]
Enter Mademoiselle Giannina, and a little after,De la Cotterie.
Gian. Ah, dearest father!
Phil. Ah, most ungrateful daughter!
Gian. For mercy's sake, pardon me! [Throws herselfon her knees.]
Phil. Do you deserve pardon?
Gian. Your anger is most just.
Phil. [Aside.] I shall not survive it; I must die.
Ric. Both are to be pitied.
Cost. [Aside.] I shall be revenged if her father refusesto forgive her.
Phil. Rise.
Gian. I will not rise without your pardon.
Phil. How could you have the heart to cause me sogreat an affliction?
Gian. Ah, sir, your advice—
Phil. Not a word of it! torture me no more; nevermention again my own folly and weakness. Rise; onthat condition I pardon you.
Gian. Oh, dearest father! [Rises.]
Cost. [Aside.] She obtains forgiveness on easy terms.
Gian. Ah, sir, let your grace extend—
Phil. Do not speak to me of your husband!
Gian. Oh, give him a place in your heart, or I shallbe forced to leave you.
Phil. Perfidious! to talk so to your father!
Gian. Conjugal duty will oblige me to take this step.
Phil. Oh, hard fate of a father! but it is just—Ideserve more.
Ric. My friend, the act is done, there is no remedy.I advise you to be reconciled to him before yourcurious mishap is known throughout the whole city.
Phil. [To Costanza.] I entreat you, Mademoiselle—Ientreat you not to make it known, for the sake of myhonour and reputation. [To Marianna.] I tell you notto speak of it. My daughter, mention it to no one.
Gian. No, for the love of Heaven, let nobody hear ofit. Quick! let everything be settled before any oneleaves this room. Quick, my dear husband, come here;throw yourself at my father's feet, ask his pardon, kisshis hand; and do you pardon him, receive him for ason-in-law and for a son. Quick! hush! that no onemay hear of it. [She rapidly does everything as she says it.]
Phil. [Aside.] I am confounded; I know not whatto say.
Cost. He has not the firmness to resist the sight ofhis ungrateful daughter. [Exit.
De la Cot. Have I your pardon, sir?
Phil. Do you think you deserve it?
Gian. For Heaven's sake, say no more! We musttake care that nobody shall know what has happened.My father is anxious to save the honour of his family;and, above all things, I charge you never to urge in yourjustification that he advised the scheme, and gave youfive hundred guineas to carry it into execution.
Phil. [To Giannina, with asperity.] I commanded younot to mention it.
Gian. I was only informing my husband of yourcommands.
Ric. Well, Monsieur Philibert, are you reconciled?
Phil. What can I do? I am constrained by necessity,by affection, by my own kind disposition, to be reconciledto them. You are husband and wife, you are inmy house, remain here, and may Heaven bless you!
Gian. Oh, perfect happiness!
De la Cot. I hope, sir, you will never repent of yourpardon and kindness to me.
Mar. Hush! quick! that nobody may know it.
Phil. What now?
Mar. Hush! quick! There is a little affair of mineto be finished. Gascoigne is to be my husband, withthe permission of our masters.
Gas. [To his master.] By your leave, sir. [Gives herhis hand.]
Mar. Hush! quick! that nobody may know it.
Gian. Against your marriage nothing can be said;mine may be condemned. I confess that I haveexceeded the limits of duty, that I have been wantingin respect to my father, and have exposed to hazardmy own honour and the reputation of my family.Those who now see me happy, and not punished, mustbe cautious not to follow a bad example; let themrather say it has pleased Heaven to mortify the father,and not that the daughter is exempt from remorse andregret. Most kind spectators, let the moral of thisrepresentation be a warning to families, and may whateverenjoyment you derive from it be consistent withthe principles of duty and of virtue.

THE END OF "A CURIOUS MISHAP."

THE BENEFICENT BEAR[2]

(IL BURBERO BENEFICO)