Olla Podrida. Фредерик МарриетЧитать онлайн книгу.
came to save your life, unless it please you to take mine before I can speak to you.
Gasp. To save my life!
Ant. Yes, sir; I knew not where to find you; I thought you might be here, and so I forced the lock with a rusty key. I meant to say, that I knew you had another way out from your chamber, and I have been looking for it, that I might hasten to you, to save your life.
Gasp. Well, sirrah, first prove to me that you can save my life, and then, perhaps, I may overlook this impertinent intrusion.
Ant. Sir, I overheard a conversation between the valet of Don Felix and a woman, in which they stated that bravos were hired by Don Perez to waylay and murder you, Don Perez not caring to meet you with his sword. This night they wait for you.
Gasp. Is Don Perez then so basely treacherous?
Ant. Indeed he is, sir! You must not out to-night.
Gasp. I must, and fear them not. For this I overlook your prying—nay, more, I will in confidence explain the secret of this chamber; but, mark you! keep it, or I shall soil my rapier with thy knavish blood. This private entrance hath much served me (showing the sliding panel).
Ant. May I be so bold as to ask how?
Gasp. It oft has saved my life. It is about a year since, and about three months before you entered my service, that I gained the love of one named Julia; she was too fond, and urged me to marry her, which I refused. Her brothers, who were at home at the time, wrested from her the cause of those tears which she could not control. I met them both, and with ease disarmed them; I did not wish to slay them, I had already done them injury. These officers, who were more annoyed by my conquest than even their sister's shame, hired bravos, as Perez now has done, who sought to murder me. Each night that I went home I found them near my door: twice I fought an entrance to my own house; a friend, who was aware of the inveteracy of those who toiled to procure my assassination, hired me this chamber. For months they watched the door with disappointment, until the brothers being recalled to join their troops in Murcia, the bravos ceased their persecutions.
Ant. How did you escape them in the city, senor?
Gasp. In daylight I was safe; at night I wore the garb of a holy monk, that lies upon that chair. You'll keep my secret?
Ant. Yes, sir, when I know it.
Gasp. Have I not told it you?
Ant. You have told me that at times you are a monk, and at times a cavalier. Which is the real character, him of the rosary, or him of the rapier?
Gasp. (aside). The knave is deep. (Aloud.) I am a monk but when it suits me.
Ant. But, sir, is there not danger in thus assuming a holy character, if it were known—the Inquisition?
Gasp. I grant it: but we do many things which, if known, would subject us to something unpleasant. I serve two mistresses; but, should I marry them both——
Ant. (starting back). Then would you to the galleys, at east.
Gasp. Exactly so. I merely put the case, for I was told by Donna Isadora's maid, you are her husband; and this I also know, from your own mouth, you are married to Beppa.
Ant. There's some mistake, sir; for Nina is married to one whose name is Lopez. I cannot, sure, be he!
Gasp. If I can be both monk and cavalier, as you assert, why may not you be Lopez and Antonio? A name is changed as easily as a garment. But in your face I read conviction; I'm certain you have two wives!
Ant. It must be as you please, sir. Perhaps I may have confessed as much to you as a holy monk.
Gasp. (Laughs.) When did you ever meet me in a church?
Ant. I do not say I have, sir; but then your knowledge is so certain.
Gasp. Suppose, then, that I know your secrets, thou wilt surely not reveal mine. There's for thine intelligence. (Throws him a purse.)
Ant. May Heaven preserve my gracious master!
Gasp. This night must I to Donna Serafina's.
Ant. Will you, then, venture forth?
Gasp. Yes, I'll robe myself as holy monk. They dare not strike, even though they have suspicion. You may go. I shall not return to-night. [Exit Antonio.
Scoundrel!—he is too cunning to believe me—
Yet still I have the secret of his wives.
(Muses.) This night I have discover'd the base Perez Again essays his most inconstant fair, Blind as inconstant. She rejected me When, as Friar Anselmo teaching music, I offer'd her—'tis true, unholy love; And I by Perez was thrust out with shame, Spurn'd with contumely as the door was closed, With threats if ever I appear'd again, To blazon forth my impious attempt, and— Yet did she cozen me with melting eyes, And first roused up the demon in my breast, Then laugh'd in malice.——I hate her for it! Now as Don Gaspar, I've supplanted him, Pride and revenge, not love, impelling me; These gratified, I would shake off a chain Which now, in amorous violence, she'd rivet. Further, Don Perez, in his jealous mood, Has as Don Gaspar braved me. They shall find, I hold life cheap when I would have revenge! [Exit.
Scene IV.
A garden near the house of Donna Serafina, which is in the back of the scene.—A balcony.—Enter Gaspar in a friar's dress, over that of a cavalier.
I pass'd them, and they bow'd unto my blessing.
Why, what a world of treachery is this!
Who would imagine that this holy robe,
Professing but humility and love,
Conceal'd the cavalier, swelling in pride,
Seeking revenge, and thirsting for hot blood?
Off with this first disguise! (Throws off friar's gown.) What then appears? A fair proportion, more deceiving still. ——In holy garb I fret within my cell, Sigh for the joyous world I have renounced, And spurn the creed which hath immured me there. When like the chrysalis I 'scape my prison, And range a free and garish butterfly, I find the world so hollow, base, and vile, That, in my mood, I hasten back once more, With thoughts of never wand'ring forth again, But, see—Don Perez comes. I will retire. [Gaspar withdraws. Enter Perez. Perez. Fool that I am! like some robb'd bird to hover About the nest that's void. Her heart's not mine. 'Tis now three moons that I have sued in vain; Her casement closed by night, her door by day. O woman, woman! thy mysterious power Chains the whole world, and men are nought but slaves Unto the potent talisman— If man prove false and treach'rous, he is spurn'd, Contemn'd, and punish'd with resentment just. To woman faithless still we kneel and sue, For that return our reason holds as worthless. Well! this shall be my last—for, by yon moon, So oft a witness to my fervent vows, So true an emblem of inconstant beauty, This night I woo her back, or woo no more.
[Retires; sings to his guitar, unseen; or beckons on chorus.
Ere lady that you close in sleep
Those eyes that I would die to view,
Think, think on mine that watch and weep,
And on my heart that breaks for you!
The sun does not disdain to turn,
And on the meanest weed to shine,
That scorch'd up dies, and seems to burn
With love, as hopelessly as mine.
One look—one word—hear, hear my call!
O cruel! can you still deny
One look—though it in scorn should fall?