Three Major Plays (32 page)

[
Exit the
DUKE

BATÍN. While you were talking to

Your father, sir, Aurora had

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Your rival's ear. I thought that you
Might like to know it's not as if
She's missing you.

FEDERICO. You mean the Marquis?

BATÍN. Yes.

FEDERICO. And do you think I could care less?

AURORA. I offer you this ribbon* as

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The first amongst my favours.

MARQUIS. And I,
My lady, swear I'll never part
With it, but rather see it as
A chain around my neck or manacle

Upon my hand. To let me wear

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It now would be quite indescribable.

AURORA [aside]. This is a suitable revenge,
And yet it does offend true love.

[
Aloud

Then wear it, sir, and grant it that

True greatness it deserves.

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BATÍN. To make all women treacherous
Is Nature's way of proving it
Is marvellous. For if they were
Not false (I don't mean all, just some),
The men who fall in love would end 730
Up on their knees and crawl to them.
Do you see the ribbon?

FEDERICO. Ribbon? Where?

BATÍN. Why, there, of course! A ribbon you
Once said adorned the very sun,

So perfect was the beauty of

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The one who always used to wear it.
But now the Marquis has it fixed
Around his neck, I'd say the sun
Has suffered an eclipse, and what
Was light and happiness for you, 740
My lord, has now become your darkness.
There was a time that very ribbon would
Have been the cause of friction, just
Like when the golden apple Paris
^*
gave

To Venus caused a right old rumpus with

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His women.

FEDERICO. Times have changed, Batín.
A different time has now begun.

AURORA. I bid you, Marquis, come with me
Into the garden.

[
Exit
AURORA
and the
MARQUIS

BATÍN. Master, look

How eagerly he holds her hand.

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FEDERICO. It's not surprising if he's fond
Of her.

BATÍN. You act as if you are
Quite glad.

FEDERICO. What would you have me do?
Go mad?

BATÍN. A swan, my lord, cannot

Abide another swan come near

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The one he loves. He'd sooner fly
Away with her to somewhere quieter.
Nor does a cock take kindly to
Some other cock who takes a walk

Amongst his hens. Just see him have

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A go at him, his cockscomb stood
On end as if he were an angry Turk,
A fierce Barbarossa.
^*
And then
At night he would outdo him too,

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His endless crowing boasting of

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His own superiority.
How, then, can you not feel enraged
When this pathetic Marquis steals
So blatantly the girl you were
Supposed to marry?

FEDERICO. The proper way

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To punish female treachery's
To let a woman have the man
She fancies. Let her own capriciousness
Be answered by his fickleness.

BATÍN. I see. You'd better let me have

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A copy of this 'Teach Yourself
The Art of Courtship', sir, so I
Can learn it all from memory.
Though if I'm honest, there is more

To it than you are telling me,

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If I'm to judge your mood correctly, sir. It's my opinion thoughts of love
Are like a waterwheel with all
Its buckets: soon as one is full,

The next one fills with water that

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Is chucked to it. I think you might
Be like the water, sir, have found
Another love and so chucked her.

FEDERICO. Your mind has great agility,

Batín. It seeks to penetrate

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My cloak of secrecy. Go now.
Discover when the Duke departs,
So I may go at least part of
The way with him.

BATÍN. How right you are

To praise my ingenuity.

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To say that I approve your mood
Would be an insincere form
Of flattery.

[
Exit
BATÍN

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FEDERICO. Oh mad and foolish thought!
What would you have of me? What would

You drive me to? Why do you seek

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To end my life by forcing me
To think and do what I dare not?
I beg you, stop, before you bring
About my death; before you are

The fatal end of everything

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Once sweet and fresh. There is no thought,
It's true, that does not feed on hope
And therefore grow. The lover's thoughts,
Accordingly, sustained by constant hope,

Will grow much more than most. But you,

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Oh, foolish thought, I know are but
A fond illusion conjured from
A hopeless vision.

Enter
CASANDRA.

CASANDRA. Love treads a careful path between

The injuries it has received,

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The sweet revenge
^*
it would achieve,
And in the process sows the seeds
Of what would be my own dishonour.
Its object inaccessible,

It lays foundations that quite soon

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Are visible, as if to prove
You cannot build your happiness
On ground that is not suitable.
Because of what the Duke has done

To me, I feel a wickedness

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Within my soul that seeks both pleasure and
Revenge in what undoubtedly
Is utter madness. The Count, apart
From being sweet and handsome, is

My dear husband's only son,

830

And thus the very one through whom
I could be best avenged upon
That cruel, most ungrateful man.
I saw how Federico was

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Disturbed, and how, when he would speak

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To me, he could not find the words
To say the things he felt, though men
Can often prove most eloquent
When they are silent. There is, I think,

In Federico's state of mind

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A confirmation of those things
I dared not think, and since the Duke
Has given me occasion for
Revenge, a voice that whispers here

Inside, convincing me that love

845

Can never be a form of treachery.
What's more, if I now give myself
To him, I cannot be accused
That it is something no one else

Has ever done. Are we not told

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In history
^*
of fathers who
Have loved their daughters, brothers who
Made love with sisters? Yes, it's true.
If I do such a thing, do I,

Then, pass beyond the bounds of all

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Normality, become a traitor to
My own integrity? And yet,
To cite the sins that others have
Been tempted to commit in no

Way justifies the things that I

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Would do if I admit that they
Are wrong. The Count comes here!
What shall I do? I am resolved.
I cast aside both doubt and fear.

FEDERICO. The Duchess comes, this sweet and fatal sword

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That, though I die for her, I still adore.
Ah, Duchess! Beauty such as yours makes
Heaven glad.

CASANDRA. I trust, my lord, you are
No longer sad.

FEDERICO. You would be more

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Correct to call the sadness that

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I feel eternal.

CASANDRA. It cannot be.
I rather think it might prove . . . temporary,
An illness of the body, not
The soul.

FEDERICO. My sickness lies in thoughts

That have decided to obsess me so,

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I know there cannot be a cure.

CASANDRA. And I am sure that I, if you
Will only trust me, can as quickly help
You find the remedy. You know
How much I care for you.

FEDERICO. And I

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Trust you, but fear will not allow
My heart to speak.

CASANDRA. You told me love
Was what had made you sad.

FEDERICO. Yes, sad.
And glad as well. The reason for

The heaven and hell in which I find

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Myself.

CASANDRA. Then listen while I tell
A story from the past that deals
With love. Antiochus,
^*
enamoured of
His stepmother, fell ill, and no

One thought he could recover.

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FEDERICO. Much better if he died of it.
I know that I am sicker still.

CASANDRA. The King, his father, called together all
The doctors of his court. They each

Examined him, but he, of course,

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Would not admit forbidden love
To be the cause of everything.

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But Erasistratus,
^*
wiser than
Galen and even great Hippocrates,
^*

Soon guessed what really troubled him.

900

He saw the poison lay between
The young man's heart and lip. And so
He took his pulse and ordered that
As many women as then lived
At Court present themselves.

FEDERICO. So did

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Some evil spirit speak?

CASANDRA. He noted how
When he set eyes upon his stepmother
His heart at once beat that much faster.
And so he knew what troubled him.

FEDERICO. How very clever!

CASANDRA. He came to be

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Regarded as the finest doctor.

FEDERICO. And did that help the patient to recover?

CASANDRA. You can't deny that what was true
Of him is true of you.

FEDERICO. Does it
Annoy you?

CASANDRA. No.

FEDERICO. It pleases you?

915

CASANDRA. Why, yes.

FEDERICO. Then know that what is now
Responsible for my distress
Is my impossible and hopeless love
For you, on whose account I've lost

All fear of God, and of my father too.

920

I find myself deprived of self,
Of God, of you; of self because
My soul belongs to you; of God

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Because I worship you much more;

Of you because you are still true

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To someone else.
^*
And if you think
That you are not to blame for this,
Observe the true extent of my distress.
They say that to be dead is worse

Than any other thing we know.

930

If that is so, then I am dead
Because of you, and would be dead
In order not to know myself.
But if I am now dead, I still

Experience equal suffering,

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And thus, against my will, am forced
To gaze upon myself to know
If I am still what I was then.
As soon as I admit I am

Myself, my wretched state will not

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Let me acknowledge it, but forces me
To further sufferings, forgetting that
This life is given me by heaven.
The two of us are equally

To blame if I now have no self,

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For it is on account of you
Alone that I forget myself
And thus have neither God, nor you, nor self.
To have no self is in itself no loss,

Since I can only live in you,

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But if I am deprived of God,
Who is the very breath of life,
Can such a love as this be true?
And if that love excludes all else,

When God commands that I must not

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Adore such beauty as I see in you,
Then it is true I have no God,
When all my thoughts are fixed on you.
Oh what a foolish thing it is

For any man to think he can

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Escape that black abyss when he
Is thus deprived of God, of you,

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And of the self that once was his!
What can we do, the two of us,

When I forgot to worship God,

965

And have no other god but you,
Nor self to which I can lay claim,
If I myself must live in you?
The truth is I, for love of you,

Am now condemned to suffer endlessly;

970

That I feel love and you disdain,
And so can properly complain
That you claim me entirely.
If I am thus deprived as much

Of you as of myself, my state

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Can only be described as one
Of utter helplessness, for I
Can neither you nor self possess.

CASANDRA. When I consider first the Duke,

Then God, I tremble at the thought

980

That punishment both human and divine
Will be for our excess soon brought
To bear on both of us.
And yet, if it is true the world

Considers love excusable,

985

My part in this affair will seem
To most forgivable;
And if my wrong is judged the lesser,
How can my guilt be thought the greater?

I know of others who, because

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They really wanted to do wrong,
Have sought their inspiration not in those
Who then repented of their sins
But those who most enjoyed wrongdoing.

If there is any remedy

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For this, it is for you to flee
And never speak to me again,
Thus making sure we shall die,
And never in each other's arms now lie.

I beg you leave me. I prefer

1000

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