Complete Works of Thomas Love Peacock

by Thomas Love Peacock

  Fruella. You must know, gentlemen, this hotel of the Looking-Glass used to be the best hotel in Lombardy; but since I have opened this of the Pool, it does not lodge ten persons in a year, and my sign has a greater reputation throughout the world than any other hostelry whatever. The French come here in flocks, and all the Germans, that pass this way.

  L’ Agiato. This is not true. The Germans go to the Pig.

  Fruella. The Milanese come here; the Parmesans; the Placentians.

  L’ Agiato. The Venetians come to me; the Genoese; the Florentines.

  Messer Piero. Where do the Neapolitans lodge?

  Fruella. With me.

  L’ Agiato. The greater part of them lodge at the Cupid.

  Fruella. Many with me.

  Fabrizio. Where does the Duke of Malfi?

  Fruella. Sometimes at my house, sometimes at his, sometimes at the Sword, sometimes at the Cupid; accordingly as he finds most room for his suite.

  Messer Piero. Where do the Romans lodge, as we are from Rome?

  L’ Agiato. With me.

  Fruella. It is not true: He does not lodge a Roman in a year, except two or three old cardinals, who keep to him from habit. All the rest come to the Fool.

  Stragualcia. I would not go from hence, without being dragged away. Master, there are so many pots and pipkins about the fire, so many soups, so many sauces, so many spits, turning with partridges and capons, such an odour of stews. and ragouts, such a display of pies and tarts, that, if the whole court of Rome were coming here to keep carnival, there would he enough, and to spare.

  Fabrizio. Have you been drinking?

  Stragualcia. Oh! and such wine.

  Messer Piero. Variorum ciborum commistio jpessimam general digestionem.

  Stragualcia. Mus asinorum, bmrum castronorum pecoronibus — the devil take all pedants. Let us go in here, master.

  Fabrizio. Where do the Spaniards lodge?

  Fruella. I do not trouble myself about them. They go to the Hook. But what need more? No person of note arrives in Modena, but comes to lodge with me, except the Sienese, who, being all one with the Modenese, no sooner set foot in the city, but they find an hundred friends, who take them to their houses: otherwise, great lords and good companions, gentle and simple, all come to the Fool.

  L’ Agiato. I say that great doctors, learned brothers, academicians, virtuosi, all come to the Looking-Glass.

  Fruella. And I say, that no one, who takes up his quarters at the Looking-Glass, has been there many days before he walks out and comes to me.

  Fabrizio. Messer Piero, what shall we do?

  Messer Piero. Etiam atque etiam cogitandum.

  Stragualcia (aside). I can scarcely keep my hands off him.

  Messer Piero. I think, Fabrizio, we have not much money.

  Stragualcia. Master, I have just seen the host’s daughter, as beautiful as an angel.

  Messer Piero. Well, let us fix here. Your father, if we find him, will pay the reckoning.

  Stragualcia. I will go into the kitchen, taste what is there, drink two or three cup» of wine, fall asleep by a good fire, and the devil take economy.

  L’ Agiato. Remember, Fruella. You have played me too many tricks. One day we must try which head is the hardest.

  Fruella. Whenever you please. I am ready to crack your skull.

  Scene III. — The Street, with the house of Virginio.

  VIRGINIO and CLEMENTIA.

  Virginio. These are the customs which you have taught her. This is the honour which she does me. Have I for this escaped so many misfortunes, to see my property without an heir, my house broken up, my daughter dishonoured: ta become the fable of the city: not to dare to lift up my head: to be pointed at by boys: to be laughed at by old men: to be put into a comedy by the Intronati: to be made an example in novels: to be an eternal scandal in the mouths of the ladies of this land? For if one knows it, in three hours all the city knows it. Disgraced, unhappy, miserable father! I have lived too long. What can I think of? What can I do?

  Clementia. You will do well to make as little noise as you can, and to take the quietest steps you can to bring your daughter home, before the town is aware of the matter. But I wish that Sister Novellante Ciancini had as much breath in her body as I have faith in my mind, that Lelia goes dressed as a man. Do not encourage their evil speaking. They wish her to be a nun, that they may inherit your property.

  Virginio. Sister Novellante has spoken truth. She has told me, moreover, that Lelia is living as a page with a gentleman of this city, and that he does not know that she is not a boy.

  Clementia. I do not believe it.

  Virginio. Neither do I, that he does not know that she is not a boy.

  Clementia. That is not what I mean.

  Virginio. It is what I mean. But what could I expect, when I entrusted her bringing up to you?

  Clementia. Rather, what could you expect, when you wanted to marry her to a man old enough to be her grandfather?

  Virginio. If I find her, I will drag her home by the hair.

  Clementia. You will take your disgrace from your bosom, to display it on your head.

  Virginio. I have a description of her dress: I shall find her: let that suffice.

  Clementia. Take your own way. I will lose no more time in washing a coal.

  Scene IV. — The Street, with the hotels and the home of GHERARDO.

  FABRIZIO and FRUELLA.

  Fabrizio. While my two servants are sleeping, I will walk about to see the city. When they rise, tell them to come towards the piazza.

  Fruella. Assuredly, young gentleman, if I had not seen you put on these clothes, I should have taken you for the page of a gentleman in this town, who dresses like you, in white, and is so like you that he appears yourself.

  Fabrizio. Perhaps I may have a brother.

  Fruella. It may be so.

  Fabrizio. Tell my tutor to inquire for he knows whom.

  Fruella. Trust to me.

  Scene V.

  FABRIZIO and PASQUELLA.

  Pasquella. In good faith, there he is. I was afraid of having to search the city before I should find you. My mistress says you must come to her as soon as you can, for a matter of great importance to both of you.

  Fabrizio. Who is your mistress?

  Pasquella. As if you did not know.

  Fabrizio. I do not know either her or you.

  Pasquella. Oh, my Fabio.

  Fabrizio. That is not my name. You are under some mistake.

  Pasquella. Oh, no, Fabio. You know, there are few girls in this country so rich and so beautiful, and I wish you would come to conclusions with her: for, going backwards and forwards day after day, taking words and giving words only, sets folks talking, with no profit to you, and little honour to her.

  Fabrizio (aside). What can this mean! Either the woman is mad, or she takes me for somebody else. But I will see what will come of it. Let us go, then.

  Pasquella. Oh! I think I hear people in the house. Stop a moment. I will see if Isabella is alone, and will make a sign to you if the coast is clear.

  Fabrizio. I will see the end of this mystery. Perhaps it is a scheme to get money of me: but I am, as it were, a pupil of the Spaniards, and am more likely to get a crown from them, than they are to get a carlin from me. I will stand aside a little, to see who goes into or out of the house, and judge what sort of lady she may be.

  Scene VI.

  GHERARDO, VIRGINIO, and PASQUELLA.

  Gherardo. Pardon me. If this is so, I renounce her. If Lelia has done this, it must be, not merely because she will not have me, but because she has taken somebody else.

  Virginio. Do not believe it, Gherardo. I pray you, do not spoil what has been done.

  Gherardo. And I pray you to say no more about it.

  Virginio. Surely you will not be wanting to your word.

  Gherardo. Yes, where there has been a wanting in deed. Besides, you do not know if you can recover her. You are selling the bird in the bush. I heard yo
ur talk with dementia.

  Virginio. If I do not recover her, I cannot give her to you. But if I do recover her, will you not have her? And that immediately?

  Gherardo. Virginio, I had the most honourable wife in Modena. And I have a daughter who is a dove. How can I bring into my house one who has run away from her father, and gone heaven knows where in masculine apparel? Whom should I find to marry my daughter?

  Virginio. After a few days nothing will be thought of it. And I do not think any one knows it, except ourselves.

  Gherardo. The whole town will be full of it.

  Virginio. No, no.

  Gherardo. How long is it since she ran away?

  Virginia. Yesterday, or this morning.

  Gherardo. Who knows that she is still in Modena?

  Virginia. I know it.

  Gherardo. Find her, and we will talk it over again.

  Virginio. Do you promise to take her?

  Gherardo. I will see.

  Virginio. Say, yes.

  Gherardo. I will not say yes: hut —

  Virginio. Come, say it freely.

  Gherardo. Softly. What are you doing here, Pasquella? What is Isabella about?

  Pasquella. Kneeling before her altar.

  Gherardo. Blessings on her. A daughter who is always at her devotions is something to be proud of.

  Pasquella. Ay, indeed. She fasts on all fast-days, and says the prayers of the day like a little saint.

  Gherardo. She resembles that blessed soul of her mother.

  Virginio. Oh, Gherardo! Gherardo! this is she, of whom we have been speaking. She seems to be hiding or running away, for having seen me. Let us go up to her.

  Gherardo. Take care not to mistake. Perhaps it is not she?

  Virginio. Who would not know her? And have I not all the signs which Sister Novellante gave me?

  Pasquella. Things are going ill. I will take myself off.

  Scene VII.

  VIRGINIO, GHERARDO, and FABRIZIO.

  Virginio. So, my fine miss, do you think this is a befitting dress for you? This is the honour you do to my house. This is the content you give to a poor old man. Would I had been dead before you were born, for you were only born to - disgrace me: to bury me alive. And you, Gherardo, what say you of your betrothed? Is she not a credit to you?

  Gherardo. She is no betrothed of mine.

  Virginio. Impudent minx! What would become of you, if this good man should reject you for a wife? But he overlooks your follies, and is willing to take you.

  Gherardo. Softly, softly.

  Virginio. Go indoors, hussy; Fabrizio. Old man, have you no sons, friends, or relations in this city whose duty it is to take care of you?

  Virginio. What an answer! Why do you ask this?

  Fabrizio. Because I wonder that, having so much need of a doctor, you are allowed to go about, when you ought to be locked up, and in a strait-waistcoat.

  Virginio. You ought to be locked up, and shall be, if I do not kill you on the spot, as I have a mind to do.

  Fabrizio. You insult me, because, perhaps, you think me a foreigner; but I am a Modenese, and of as good a family as you.

  Virginio (taking GHERARDO aside). Gherardo, take her into your house. Do not let her be seen in this fashion.

  Gherardo. No, no; take her home.

  Virginio. Listen a little, and keep an eye on her, that she does not run away. [They talk apart.

  Fabrizio. I have seen madmen before now, but such a madman as this old fellow I never saw going at large. What a comical insanity, to fancy that young men are girls! I would not for a thousand crowns have missed this drollery, to make a story for evenings in carnival. They are coming this way. I will humour their foolery, and see what will come of it.

  Virginio. Come here.

  Fabrizio. What do you want?

  Virginio. You are a sad hussy.

  Fabrizio. Do not be abusive: for I shall not stand it.

  Virginio. Brazen face.

  Fabrizio. Ho! ho! ho!

  Gherardo. Let him speak. Do you not see that he is angry? Do as he bids.

  Fabrizio. What is his anger to me? What is he to me, or you either?

  Virginio. You will kill me before my time.

  Fabrizio. It is high time to die, when you have fallen into dotage. You have lived too long already.

  Gherardo. Do not speak so, dear daughter, dear sister.

  Fabrizio. Here is a pretty pair of doves! both crazy with one conceit. Ha! ha! ha! ha!

  Virginio. Do you laugh at me, impudence?

  Fabrizio. How can I help laughing at you, brainless old goose?

  Gherardo. I am afraid this poor girl has lost her wits.

  Virginio. I thought so at first, when I saw with how little patience she received me. Pray take her into your house. I cannot take her to my own, without making myself the sight of the city.

  Fabrizio. About what are these brothers of Melchisedech laying together the heads of their second babyhood?

  Virginio. Let us coax her indoors; and as soon as she is within, lock her up in a chamber with your daughter.

  Gherardo. Be it so.

  Virginio. Come, my girl, I will not longer be angry with you. I pardon everything. Only behave well for the future.

  Fabrizio. Thank you.

  Gherardo. Behave as good daughters do.

  Fabrizio. The other chimes in with the same tune.

  Gherardo. Go in, then, like a good girl.

  Virginio. Go in, my daughter.

  Gherardo. This house is your own. You are to be my wife.

  Fabrizio. Your wife and his daughter? Ha! ha! ha!

  Gherardo. My daughter will be glad of your company.

  Fabrizio. Your daughter, eh? Very good. I will go in.

  Virginio. Gherardo, now that we have her safe, lock her up with your daughter, while I send for her clothes.

  Gherardo. Pasquella, call Isabella, and bring the key of her room.

  ACT IV.

  SCENE I — Scene continues.

  MESSER PIERO and STRAGUALCIA.

  Messer Piero. You ought to have fifty bastinadoes, to teach you to keep him company when he goes out, and not to get drunk and sleep, as you have done, and let him go about alone.

  Stragualcia. And you ought to be loaded with birch and broom, sulphur, pitch, and gunpowder, and set on fire, to teach you not to be what you are.

  Messer Piero. Sot, sot.

  Stragualcia. Pedant, pedant.

  Messer Piero. Let me find your master.

  Stragualcia. Let me find his father.

  Messer Piero. What can you say of me to his father?

  Stragualcia. And what can you say of me?

  Messer Piero. That you are a knave, a rogue, a rascal, a sluggard, a coward, a drunkard. That is what I can say.

  Stragualcia. And I can say that you are a thief, a gambler, a slanderer, a cheat, a sharper, a boaster, a blockhead, an impostor, an ignoramus, a traitor, a profligate. That is what I can say.

  Messer Piero. Well, we are both known.

  Stragualcia. True.

  Messer Piero. No more words. I will not place myself on a footing with you.

  Stragualcia. Oh! to be sure; you have all the nobility of the Maremma. I am better born than you. What are you, but the son of a muleteer? This upstart, because he can say cujus masculini, thinks he may set his foot on every man’s neck.

  Messer Piero. Naked and poor go’st thou, Philosophy. To what have poor letters come? Into the mouth of an ass.

  Stragualcia. You will be the ass presently. I will lay a load of wood on your shoulders.

  Messer Piero. Furor fit lœsa sœpius sapientia. For the sake of your own shoulders, let me alone, base groom, poltroon, arch-poltroon.

  Stragualcia. Pedant, pedant, arch-pedant. What can he said worse than pedant? Can there he a viler, baser, more rubbishy race? They go about puffed up like bladders because they are called Messer This, Maestro That....

  [STRAGUALCIA ends with several terms of untranslatab
le abuse.

  Messer Piero. Tractant fabrilia fabri. You speak like what you are. Either you shall leave this service, or I will.

  Stragualcia. Who would you have in his house, and at his table, except my young master, who is better than bread?

  Messer Piero. Many would be glad of me. No more words. Go to the hotel, take care of your master’s property. By-and- by we will have a reckoning.

  Stragualcia. Yes, we will have a reckoning, and you shall pay it.

  Messer Piero. Fruella told me Fabrizio was gone towards the Piazza. I will follow him. [Exit.

  Stragualcia. If I did not now and then make head against this fellow, there would be no living with him. He has no more valour than a rabbit. When I brave him, he is soon silenced: but if I were once to knock under to him, lie would lead me the life of a galley-slave.

  Scene II.

  GHERARDO, VIRGINIO, and MESSER PIERO.

  Gherardo. I will endow her as you desire; and if you do not find your son, you will add a thousand golden florins.

  Virginio. Be it so.

  Messer Piero. I am much deceived, or I have seen this gentleman before.

  Virginio. What are you looking at, good sir?

  Messer Piero. Certainly, this is my old master. Do you know in this town one Signor Vincenzio Bellenzini?

  Virginio. I know him well. He has no better friend than I am.

  Messer Piero. Assuredly, you are he. Salve, patronorum optime.

  Virginio. Are you Messer Pietro de’ Pagliaricci, my son’s tutor?

  Messer Piero. I am, indeed:

  Virginio. Oh, my son! Woe is me! What news do you bring me of him? Where did you leave him? Where did he die? For dead he must be, or I should not have been so long without hearing from him. Those traitors murdered him — those Jews, those dogs. Oh, my son! my greatest blessing in the world! Tell me of him, dear master.

  Messer Piero. Do not weep, sir, for heaven’s sake. Your son is alive and well.

  Gherardo. If this is true, I lose the thousand florins. Take care, Virginio, that this man is not a cheat.

  Messer Piero. Parcius ista viris tamen objicienda memento.

  Virginio. Tell me something, master.

  Messer Piero. Your son, in the sack of Rome, was a prisoner of one Captain Orteca.

  Gherardo. So he begins his fable.

  Messer Piero. And because the captain had two comrades, who might claim their share, he sent us secretly to Siena: then, fearing that the Sienese, who are great friends of right and justice, and most affectionately attached to this city, might take him and set him at liberty, he took us to a castle of the Signor di Piombino, set our ransom at a thousand ducats, and made us write for that amount.