Olla Podrida. Фредерик МарриетЧитать онлайн книгу.
it was; how the saint brought in the wine, I know not; but we proceeded on to wine and women, which last discourse made us thirsty, so we adjourned into a wine-house. Saint Petronila shrive me! when we became most intimate, and after much beating about the bush, I discovered that his master—
Perez. Who—what?
San. Don Gaspar, sir.
Perez. Idiot! is that all?
San. No—only half; I found out more without him. He finished off his wine and left me without any more information, declaring that was all he knew himself; and that he had to meet a lady. Let me alone for finding out, Saint Petronila be my guide! I watched him, and as I turned the corner, found him in close whispering with the Señora Beppa.
Perez. The attendant of Donna Serafina; then are my doubts confirmed. Treacherous sex!—but I'll be revenged! Did you speak to them?
San. Not when Antonio was there. I never interfere between man and wife, the blessed saint knows that.
Perez. His wife!
San. Yes, his wife; but when Antonio quitted her, I then accosted her; and to my cross questions—
Perez. She gave you crooked answers.
San. Precisely so, signor, and record it, Saint Petronila; she said that I was a fool!
Perez. The wisdom of the woman! Come, Felix—Sancho, you will go home and await my return.
[Exit Perez and Felix.
San. That Antonio is a good fellow, Saint Petronila assist him! how he does make me laugh! we were sworn friends in two hours; and he promised to drink with me whenever I pleased: I wonder why he never offers to pay his share of the reckoning? He thinks it would affront me, I suppose! but when we are more intimate, I'll hint the contrary. Excellent fellow! how he did make me laugh! Then when next we meet, I'll ask his advice about my love affair! I am sadly in want of a confidant; now I've only my own wit, and the good saint. He's a man you may trust, I'll be sworn. Lord! how he did make me laugh! [Exit.
Scene II.
Street opposite Anselmo's lodgings.
Enter Antonio.
Well, I'm supposed to have as much wit as my neighbours, and yet I cannot make out this master of mine. He's a perfect mystery, and the more I try to unriddle him the more he riddles me. If I am deep, he is deeper. In short, I am no match for him, and thus I prove it. In the first place, he finds out everything I would conceal, and conceals everything I would find out. Secondly, he reads all my thoughts, and takes care that I shall read none of his. Then he disappears when I turn my back, and re-appears before I turn my face. He has discovered that I am a rogue, yet retains me in his service. His chamber is always locked when he goes out, and I am obliged to wait below upon board wages. There's some mystery about that chamber. I have watched repeatedly on the staircase to see him enter, but never can; and when I would swear that he is not in, it is I only who am out; for I am summoned to his presence. There's mystery! When he does appear, who is he? Don Gaspar; but of what family, and from what part of Spain, no one can tell. Mystery upon mystery! He may be the devil, and I feel my conscience touched; for no good ever came from the devil's wages. I'll to my confessor, and seek his counsel. He's a good man, and lenient too, to such poor rogues as I. But he insists that I appear each se'nnight, and sum the catalogue of my offences: perhaps he's right; for if I staid longer away, some of them—as I am no scholar—say half—would be forgotten. [Enter Nina veiled, who passed by him, and exit.] There's a nice girl! What a foot and ankle! Now had my master seen her, there had been a job for me to dog her home. We lacqueys are like sporting dogs; we follow up the game, and when they stop their running, make a dead point, until our masters bag them for themselves. [Nina returns. Enter.] She's coming back. This time I'll poach a little for myself. Fair lady, can I serve you? [Nina stops, but turns away. Antonio kneels.]
"Turn not away, fair angel, for since last
You bless'd my eyes, my thoughts have been on you;
For weeks I've follow'd, not daring to address you.
As I'm a bachelor, and free to wed,
Might I your favour gain, a life of tenderness,
To you, my love, I'd tender."
(Aside.) I borrow'd that speech, excepting the last flourish, from my master: but since he has used it like his cast-off clothes, 'tis mine by custom. (Aloud.) Will you not answer? I love you, madam, have loved you long; and, by my soul! ne'er said so much before to any woman breathing. [Nina turns round and lifts her veil, Antonio turns away.] (Aside.) By all that's intolerable, my Toledo wife! (Turning to her.) Holy Saint Frances! It is, it is my wife!
Nina. Yes, sir, your injured, your deserted wife!
Ant. And are you still alive? then I am once more happy! (Offers to embrace her.)
Nina. Forbear! When was I dead, you wretch?
Ant. Why, Nina, I've a letter from Toledo, that states that you are dead; you died a treble death, yourself and twins.
Nina. What?
Ant. Twins, my love, sweet pledges of affection. I've the letter in my pocket; I've kept it there for months, pored over it for weeks, and cried over it for days. (Fumbles in his pocket.) Now I recollect it is in the pocket of my gala suit. What an infamous forgery! Come to my arms, my dear lamented, but now recovered wife!
Nina. Keep off, you wretch! What did you say just now? "I've loved you long, and ne'er have said so much to any woman breathing."
Ant. Well, my love, no more I had, except to yourself; and you I thought were dead. Why, my dearest Nina, it is a proof of my constancy. When I first saw you, I said to myself "that is the only woman I ever saw with a foot and ankle so pretty as my Nina's;" and the more I looked at you, the more your sweet figure reminded me of yourself. In fact, it was your likeness to yourself that created the first emotion in my widowed heart. Had I fallen in love with anybody else, my dearest Nina, you might have cause for anger; but I assert, to fall in love with my own wife proves me a paragon of fidelity.
Nina. O, Lopez, could I but believe you!
[Antonio turns away and takes out his handkerchief.] (Aside.) As my master says (turning to Nina),
"Lay bare my heart, my Nina, read each thought,
And there your image, deeply graven, find."
[She turns away. He pretends to be much affected; at last she embraces him.
Ant. (Aside.) Into her arms and out of that scrape, thank my wits! (Aloud.) And now, my love, how long have you resided in this city?
Nina. But a few days. I serve the Donna Isidora. I was left behind in sickness, at their country seat, some time ago, and but now have joined her. Where have you been, my dear Lopez?
Ant. Wandering about everywhere and anywhere, a lost man, since I heard of your loss;—yes, a miserable man. But of that hereafter. What seek you now?
Nina. The lacquey of Don Gaspar, called Antonio;—can you assist me, as I am in haste?
Ant. Why yes, I think I can. Behold him here; I am that same Antonio, and, for my sins, Don Gaspar's lacquey.
Nina (walking away angrily). It was convenient, perhaps, for you to change your name. You are Antonio, indeed!
Ant. No, my dear wife; but it made me feel more happy (placing his arm round her waist). You used to call me Lopez; dearest Lopez; and when I thought you dead, the very name, when summoned by my masters, reminded me of your dear self. I could not bear it; so I changed my name.
Nina. Dear Lopez! And do you