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The Duke and other nobles at the Court
Are coming hither.
GUIDO What of that? his name?
MORANZONE
Do they not seem a valiant company
Of honourable, honest gentlemen?
GUIDO His name, milord?
[Enter the DUKE OF PADUA with COUNT BARDI, MAFFIO, PETRUCCI, and other gentlemen of his Court.]
MORANZONE [quickly]
The man to whom I kneel
Is he who sold your father! mark me well.
GUIDO [clutches hit dagger]
The Duke!
MORANZONE
Leave off that fingering of thy knife.
Hast thou so soon forgotten?
[Kneels to the DUKE.]
My noble Lord.
DUKE
Welcome, Count Moranzone; ‘tis some time
Since we have seen you here in Padua.
We hunted near your castle yesterday -
Call you it castle? that bleak house of yours
Wherein you sit a-mumbling o’er your beads,
Telling your vices like a good old man.
[Catches sight of GUIDO and starts back.]
Who is that?
MORANZONE
My sister’s son, your Grace,
Who being now of age to carry arms,
Would for a season tarry at your Court
DUKE [still looking at GUIDO]
What is his name?
MORANZONE Guido Ferranti, sir.
DUKE His city?
MORANZONE He is Mantuan by birth.
DUKE [advancing towards GUIDO]
You have the eyes of one I used to know,
But he died childless. Are you honest, boy?
Then be not spendthrift of your honesty,
But keep it to yourself; in Padua
Men think that honesty is ostentatious, so
It is not of the fashion. Look at these lords.
COUNT BARDI [aside]
Here is some bitter arrow for us, sure.
DUKE Why, every man among them has his price,
Although, to do them justice, some of them
Are quite expensive.
COUNT BARDI [aside]
There it comes indeed.
DUKE
So be not honest; eccentricity
Is not a thing should ever be encouraged,
Although, in this dull stupid age of ours,
The most eccentric thing a man can do
Is to have brains, then the mob mocks at him;
And for the mob, despise it as I do,
I hold its bubble praise and windy favours
In such account, that popularity
Is the one insult I have never suffered.
MAFFIO [aside] He has enough of hate, if he needs that.
DUKE
Have prudence; in your dealings with the world
Be not too hasty; act on the second thought,
First impulses are generally good.
GUIDO [aside]
Surely a toad sits on his lips, and spills its venom there.
DUKE
See thou hast enemies,
Else will the world think very little of thee;
It is its test of power; yet see thou show’st
A smiling mask of friendship to all men,
Until thou hast them safely in thy grip,
Then thou canst crush them.
GUIDO [aside]
O wise philosopher!
That for thyself dost dig so deep a grave.
MORANZONE [to him]
Dost thou mark his words?
GUIDO Oh, be thou sure I do.
DUKE
And be not over-scrupulous; clean hands
With nothing in them make a sorry show.
If you would have the lion’s share of life
You must wear the fox’s skin. Oh, it will fit you;
It is a coat which fitteth every man.
GUIDO Your Grace, I shall remember.
DUKE
That is well, boy, well.
I would not have about me shallow fools,
Who with mean scruples weigh the gold of life,
And faltering, paltering, end by failure; failure,
The only crime which I have not committed:
I would have men about me. As for conscience,
Conscience is but the name which cowardice
Fleeing from battle scrawls upon its shield.
You understand me, boy?
GUIDO
I do, your Grace,
And will in all things carry out the creed
Which you have taught me.
MAFFIO
I never heard your Grace
So much in the vein for preaching; let the Cardinal
Look to his laurels, sir.
DUKE
The Cardinal!
Men follow my creed, and they gabble his.
I do not think much of the Cardinal;
Although he is a holy churchman, and
I quite admit his dulness. Well, sir, from now
We count you of our household
[He holds out his hand for GUIDO to kiss. GUIDO starts back in horror, but at a gesture from COUNT MORANZONE, kneels and kisses it.]
We will see
That you are furnished with such equipage
As doth befit your honour and our state.
GUIDO I thank your Grace most heartily.
DUKE
Tell me again
What is your name?
GUIDO Guido Ferranti, sir.
DUKE
And you are Mantuan? Look to your wives, my lords,
When such a gallant comes to Padua.
Thou dost well to laugh, Count Bardi; I have noted
How merry is that husband by whose hearth
Sits an uncomely wife.
MAFFIO
May it please your Grace,
The wives