Carlo Goldoni - The Comedies of Carlo Goldoni

Gas. Our troubles seldom come alone.

De la Cot. Mine is alone, but so great that I cannot support it.

Gas. I suppose you allude to your love?

De la Cot. Yes; but it has increased to such a degree that I have no longer firmness enough to resist it.

Gas. What if the lady is unconcerned at your departure, and does not love you as you imagine she does?

De la Cot. On the contrary, she is more affectionate, and more devoted to me than ever. Oh, God! what will my despair drive me to? I saw her weep.

Gas. Well, this is bad enough, but I thought it was something much worse.

De la Cot. Inhuman! unfeeling! vile plebeian soul! can you imagine anything worse in the world than the tears of a tender-hearted, distressed lady, who accuses me of cruelty, who makes my resolution waver, and puts to a severe trial my honour, my reputation, and my friendship?

Gas. I am not conscious of deserving so harsh a reproof; this is a just recompense for ten years' service.

De la Cot. Ah! put yourself in my place, and then, if you can, condemn my transports. My wounds, my blood, my being a prisoner of war, which prevents my promotion, the narrowness of my fortune, all appear nothing in comparison with the love which inflames my soul. The excellent principles of the young lady prevented her from assuring me that I possessed her heart, and in consequence I resolved to leave her. Ah! at the moment of taking leave, tears and sobs prevented her from speaking, and they proved her love was equal to mine. My wretchedness is extreme; my resolution seems barbarous; and now, frantic with love, reason appears to desert me.

Gas. Take time, sir; remain here. Monsieur Philibert is the best man in the world; in Holland they pride themselves on their hospitality, and our host takes the greatest interest in you, and in your health. You are not perfectly cured, and this is a good reason for not going.

De la Cot. I will think over what you say; very little would change my determination.

Gas. With your leave I will at once unpack the trunk. [ Unpacking. ]

De la Cot. [ Apart. ] What will they say if I remain after having taken my leave?

Gas. [ Apart. ] Marianna will not be sorry for this.

De la Cot. [ Apart. ] If I allege I am unwell, my sadness will make it appear so.

Gas. [ Apart. ] Nor indeed am I.

De la Cot. But the longer I remain, the more my love increases; and what remedy can there be for it? what hope is there for my desperate passion?

Gas. Time accomplishes wonders. [ Still unpacking. ]

De la Cot. How much better to meet death at once than to live in such torture!

Gas. My master will be obliged to me.

De la Cot. What shall I do?

Gas. The trunk is unpacked, sir.

De la Cot. Who told you to unpack it?

Gas. I said I was going to do it, and you did not forbid me.

De la Cot. Blockhead! put up the clothes. I shall go.

Gas. Well, whatever happens, let them remain now.

De la Cot. Do not make me angry.

Gas. I will put them up this evening.

De la Cot. Do it at once, and order the post-horses at twelve o'clock.

Gas. And the tears of Mademoiselle?

De la Cot. Wretch! have you the heart to torment me?

Gas. My poor master!

De la Cot. Indeed, I am an object of compassion.

Gas. Let us stay.

De la Cot. No.

Gas. Shall I pack up the things, then?

De la Cot. Yes.

Gas. How I pity him! [ Putting the clothes in the trunk. ]

De la Cot. Can I leave this house without seeing her again?

Gas. While he continues in this state of mind, we shall never be done.

De la Cot. By leaving her, I fear my love will not leave me.

Gas. Alas, poor master! [ Looking out. ] What do I see?

De la Cot. What is the matter? Why do you stop?

Gas. I am going on, sir.

De la Cot. You are confused?

Gas. A little.

De la Cot. What are you looking at?

Gas. Nothing.

De la Cot. Oh, Heaven! Mademoiselle Giannina! What an encounter! What do you advise me to do?

Gas. I do not know; any course is dangerous.

De la Cot. Do not leave me.

Gas. I will not.

De la Cot. I will go away.

Gas. As you please.

De la Cot. I cannot.

Gas. I pity you.

De la Cot. Why does she stop? Why does she not come in?

Gas. She is afraid of disturbing you.

De la Cot. No; it is because you are here.

Gas. Then I will go. [ Going. ]

De la Cot. Stay.

Gas. I will remain, then.

De la Cot. Have you the snuff-box? bring it.

Gas. I will go for it.

De la Cot. Hear me! where are you going? Poor me! Gascoigne! [ Calls. ]

Gian. Are you in want of anything?

De la Cot. Excuse me, I want my servant.

Gian. If yours is not here, there are others. Do you want any one?

De la Cot. No, I thank you; my trunk must be packed up.

Gian. And are you disturbed in this manner about so trifling an affair? do you fear there will not be time? Perhaps you are already expecting horses? If the air of this country is not favourable to your health, or rather if you are tired of us, I will myself hasten forward your departure.

De la Cot. Mademoiselle, have compassion on me; do not add to my suffering.

Gian. If I knew the cause of your suffering, instead of increasing, I would endeavour to diminish it.

De la Cot. Seek the cause in yourself; there is no need for me to tell you.

Gian. Then you go away on my account?

De la Cot. Yes, it is on your account that I am compelled to hasten my departure.

Gian. Have I become so odious in your sight?

De la Cot. Oh, Heaven! you never appeared to me so lovely; your eyes never beamed with so much tenderness.

Gian. Ah, were this true, you would not be so anxious to go.

De la Cot. If I loved only the beauty of your person, I should yield to the strength of my attachment, which bids me stay with you; but I love you for your virtues; I see your peace of mind is in danger, and in return for the kindness you have shown me, I mean to sacrifice the dearest hopes of my life.

Gian. I do not believe you have so little resolution as not to be able to control your passion, and you do me injustice if you think I cannot resist the inclinations of my heart. I own my love for you without a blush: this virtuous love, I feel, will never leave me, and I cannot persuade myself a man is less able than I am to sustain with glory the conflict of his passions. I can love you without danger; it is happiness enough for me to see you. You, on the contrary, by determining to depart, go in quest of more easy enjoyment, and show that your obstinacy prevails over your love. It is said hope always comforts the lover. He who will not use the means proves he cares but little for the end, and, if you go, you will still suffer the tortures of disappointed desire; you will act either with culpable weakness, or unfeeling indifference. Whatever cause hurries you away, go, proud of your resolution, but be at least ashamed of your cruelty.