Giu. Here I am; where’s my necktie? (Francesco hands it to him, and he puts it on. Luisa looks on, laughing.) You laugh, eh?—unhappy woman! You laugh because you cannot take in at a glance the seriousness of your husband’s position!... My waistcoat! (Francesco hands it.) For one has to calculate all chances ... the chance of a declaration, for instance!
Luisa. What business have you making declarations, sir?
Giu. I have no business whatever to make any; but I might do so—go on my knees, and all—and then ... My dress-coat! (Francesco hands it, as before.)... Give me a pin for my necktie. (Luisa brings him one.) Do me the favour to put it in for me, will you? But mind you don’t make a hole in me—see?
Luisa. Now, let the cab come when it likes—we are all ready!
Giu. Yes; the victim is prepared for the sacrifice! Just imagine it! My feet are so numb and dead I might be a Chinese—a remnant of the Russian army—a survivor of the Beresina! And then to have to walk upstairs in these same boots, and finish up by dancing a mazurka with the mayor’s daughter!
(Enter Marco.)
Mar. May I come in?
Giu. Oh! it’s you? Here we are, quite ready!
(Luisa puts on her shawl and hood, helped by Lauretta. Giuliano takes his hat and gloves.)
Mar. I came myself, because——