The Jewel Merchants: A Comedy in One Act, James Branch Cabell [beach books .txt] 📗

him. I heard nothing to the contrary.

GUIDO
True, madonna, true. I had forgotten you did not see them.

GRACIOSA
No. What is he like, this Eglamore? Is he as appalling to look at as the
Duke?

GUIDO
Madonna! but wise persons do not apply such adjectives to dukes. And wise
persons do not criticize Count Eglamore's appearance, either, now that
Eglamore is indispensable to the all-powerful Duke of Florence.

GRACIOSA
Indispensable?

GUIDO It is thanks to the Eglamore whom you hate that the Duke has ample leisure to indulge in recreations which are reputed to be—curious.

GRACIOSA
I do not understand you, Guido.

GUIDO That is perhaps quite as well. (Attempting to explain as much as is decently expressible.) To be brief, madonna, business annoys the Duke.

GRACIOSA
Why?

GUIDO It interferes with the pursuit of all the beautiful things he asks for in that song.

GRACIOSA
But how does that make Eglamore indispensable?

GUIDO Eglamore is an industrious person who affixes seals, and signs treaties, and musters armies, and collects revenues, upon the whole, quite as efficiently as Alessandro would be capable of doing these things.

GRACIOSA
So Duke Alessandro merely makes verses?

GUIDO And otherwise amuses himself as his inclinations prompt, while Eglamore rules Tuscany—and the Tuscans are none the worse off on account of it. (He rises, and his hand goes to the dagger at his belt.) But is not that a horseman?

GRACIOSA (She too has risen, and is now standing on the bench, looking over the wall.) A solitary rider, far down by the convent, so far away that he seems hardly larger than a scarlet dragon-fly.

GUIDO I confess I wish to run no risk of being found here, by your respected father or by your ingenious cousins and uncles.

GRACIOSA (She turns, but remains standing upon the bench.) I think your Duke is much more dangerous looking than any of them. Heigho! I can quite foresee that I shall never fall in love with this Duke.

GUIDO
A prince has means to overcome all obstacles.

GRACIOSA
No. It is unbefitting and a little cowardly for Duke Alessandro to shirk
the duties of his station for verse-making and eternal pleasure-seeking.
Now if I were Duke—

GUIDO
What would you do?

GRACIOSA (Posturing a little as she stands upon the bench.) If I were duke? Oh … I would grant my father a pension … and I would have Eglamore hanged … and I would purchase a new gown of silvery green—

GUIDO
In which you would be very ravishingly beautiful.

His tone has become rather ardent, and he is now standing nearer to her than the size of the garden necessitates. So GRACIOSA demurely steps down from the bench, and sits at the far end.

GRACIOSA
And that is all I can think of. What would you do if you were duke,
Messer Guido?

GUIDO (Who is now sitting beside her at closer quarters than the length of the bench quite strictly demands.) I? What would I do if I were a great lord instead of a tradesman! (Softly.) I think you know the answer, madonna.

GRACIOSA
Oh, you would make me your duchess, of course. That is quite understood.
But I was speaking seriously, Guido.

GUIDO And is it not a serious matter that a pedler of crystals should have dared to love a nobleman's daughter?

GRACIOSA (Delighted.) This is the first I have heard of it.

GUIDO But you are perfectly right. It is not a serious matter. That I worship you is an affair which does not seriously concern any person save me in any way whatsoever. Yet I think that knowledge of the fact would put your father to the trouble of sharpening his dagger.

GRACIOSA Ye-es. But not even Father would deny that you were showing excellent taste.

GUIDO Indeed, I am not certain that I do worship you; for in order to adore whole-heartedly the idolater must believe his idol to be perfect. (Taking her hand.) Now your nails are of an ugly shape, like that of little fans. Your nose is nothing to boast of. And your mouth is too large. I do not admire these faults, for faults they are undoubtedly—

GRACIOSA
Do they make me very ugly? I know that I have not a really good mouth,
Guido, but do you think it is positively repulsive?

GUIDO No…. Then, too, I know that you are vain and self-seeking, and look forward contentedly to the time when your father will transfer his ownership of your physical attractions to that nobleman who offers the highest price for them.

GRACIOSA But we daughters of the poor Valori are compelled to marry—suitably. We have only the choice between that and the convent yonder.

GUIDO That is true, and nobody disputes it. Still, you participate in a monstrous bargain, and I would prefer to have you exhibit distaste for it.

Bending forward, GUIDO draws from his jewel pack the string of pearls, and this he moodily contemplates, in order to evince his complete disinterestedness. The pose has its effect. GRACIOSA looks at him for a moment, rises, draws a deep breath, and speaks with a sort of humility.

GRACIOSA
And to what end, Guido? What good would weeping do?

GUIDO (Smiling whimsically.) I am afraid that men do not always love according to the strict laws of logic. (He drops the pearls, and, rising, follows her.) I desire your happiness above all things, yet to see you so abysmally untroubled by anything which troubles me is—another matter.

GRACIOSA
But I am not untroubled, Guido.

GUIDO
No?

GRACIOSA No. (Rather tremulously.) Sometimes I sit here dreading my life at court. I want never to leave my father's bleak house. I fear that I may not like the man who offers the highest price for me. And it seems as if the court were a horrible painted animal, dressed in bright silks, and shining with jewels, and waiting to devour me.

Beyond the wall appears a hat of scarlet satin with a divided brim, which, rising, is revealed to surmount the head of an extraordinarily swarthy person, to whose dark skin much powder has only loaned the hue of death: his cheeks, however, are vividly carmined. This is all that the audience can now see of the young DUKE of FLORENCE, whose proximity the two in the garden are just now too much engrossed to notice.

The DUKE looks from one to the other. His eyes narrow, his teeth are displayed in a wide grin; he now understands the situation. He lowers his head as GRACIOSA moves.

GRACIOSA No, I am not untroubled. For I cannot fathom you, and that troubles me. I am very fond of you—and yet I do not trust you.

GUIDO
You know that I love you.

GRACIOSA
You tell me so. It pleases me to have you say it—

GUIDO
Madonna is candid this morning.

GRACIOSA Yes, I am candid. It does please me. And I know that for the sake of seeing me you endanger your life, for if my father heard of our meetings here he would have you killed.

GUIDO
Would I incur such risks without caring?

GRACIOSA No,—and yet, somehow, I do not believe it is altogether for me that you care.

The DUKE laughs. GUIDO starts, half drawing his dagger. GRACIOSA turns with an instinctive gesture of seeking protection. The DUKE'S head and shoulders appear above the wall.

THE DUKE And you will find, my friend, that the most charming women have just these awkward intuitions.

The DUKE ascends the wall, while the two stand motionless and silent. When he is on top of the wall, GUIDO, who now remembers that omnipotence perches there, makes haste to serve it, and obsequiously assists the DUKE to descend. The DUKE then comes well forward, in smiling meditation, and hands first his gloves, then his scarlet cloak (which you now perceive to be lined with ermine and sable in four stripes) to GUIDO, who takes them as a servant would attend his master.

The removal of this cloak reveals the DUKE to be clad in a scarlet satin doublet, which has a high military collar and sleeves puffed with black. His tights also are of scarlet, and he wears shining soft black riding-boots. Jewels glisten at his neck. About his middle, too, there is a metallic gleaming, for he is equipped with a noticeably long sword and a dagger. Such is the personage who now addresses himself more explicitly to GRACIOSA.

THE DUKE (Sitting upon the bench, very much at his ease while the others stand uncomfortably before him.) Yes, madonna, I suspect that Eglamore here cares greatly for the fact that you are Balthazar Valori's daughter, and cousin to the late Marquis of Cibo.

GRACIOSA (Just in bewilderment.) Eglamore!

THE DUKE For Cibo left many kinsmen. These still resent the circumstance that the matching of his wits against Eglamore's wits earned for Cibo an unpleasantly public death-bed. So they pursue their feud against Eglamore with vexatious industry. And Eglamore goes about in hourly apprehension of another falling beam, another knife-thrust in the back, or another plate of poison.

GRACIOSA (She comprehends now.) Eglamore!

THE DUKE (Who is pleased alike by Eglamore's neat plan and by his own cleverness in unriddling it.) But if rich Eglamore should make a stolen match with you, your father—good thrifty man!—could be appeased without much trouble. Your cousins, those very angry but penniless Valori, would not stay over-obdurate to a kinsman who had at his disposal so many pensions and public offices. Honor would permit a truce with their new cousin Eglamore, a truce very profitable to everybody.

GRACIOSA
He said they must be bought somehow!

THE DUKE Yes, Eglamore could bind them all to his interest within ten days. All could be bought at a stroke by marrying you. And Eglamore would be rid of the necessity of sleeping in chain-armor. Have I not unraveled the scheme correctly, Eglamore?

GUIDO (Smiling and deferential.) Your highness was never lacking in penetration.

GRACIOSA, at this, turns puzzled from one man to the other.

GRACIOSA
Are you—?

THE DUKE
I am Alessandro de Medici, madonna.

GRACIOSA
The Duke!

THE DUKE A sadly neglected prince, who wondered over the frequent absences of his chief counselor, and secretly set spies upon him. Eglamore here will attest as much—(As GRACIOSA draws away from GUIDO)—or if you cannot believe Eglamore any longer in anything, I shall have other witnesses within the half-hour. Yes, my twenty cut-throats are fetching back for me a brace of nuns from the convent yonder. I can imagine that, just now, my cut-throats will be in your opinion more trustworthy witnesses than is poor Eglamore. And my stout knaves will presently assure you that I am the Duke.

GUIDO (Suavely.) It happens that not a moment ago we were admiring your highness' portrait.

GRACIOSA And so you are Count Eglamore. That is very strange. So it was the hand of Eglamore (rubbing her hands as if to clean them) that I touched just now. I thought it was the hand of my friend Guido. But I forget. There is no Guido. You are Eglamore. It is strange you should have been capable of so much wickedness, for to me you seem only a smirking and harmless lackey.

The DUKE is watching as if at a play. He is aesthetically pleased by the girl's anguish. GUIDO winces. As GRACIOSA begins again to speak, they turn facing her, so that to the audience the faces of both men are invisible.

GRACIOSA And it was you who detected—so you said—the Marquis of Cibo's conspiracy. Tebaldeo was my cousin, Count Eglamore. I loved him. We were reared together. We used to play here in this garden. I remember how Tebaldeo once fetched me a wren's nest from that maple yonder. I stood just here. I was weeping, because I was afraid he would fall. If he had fallen, if he had been killed then, it would have been the luckier for him. They say that he conspired. I do not know. I only know that by your orders, Count Eglamore, my playmate Tebaldeo was fastened to a cross, like that (pointing to the shrine). I know that his arms and legs were each broken in two places with an iron bar. I know that this cross was then set upon a pivot, so that it turned slowly. I know that my dear Tebaldeo died very slowly in the sunlit marketplace, while the cross turned, and turned, and turned. I know this was a public holiday; the shopkeepers took holiday to watch him die, the boy who fetched me a wren's nest from yonder maple. And I know that you are Eglamore, who ordered these things done.

GUIDO I gave orders for the Marquis of Cibo's execution, as was the duty of my office. I did not devise the manner of his punishment. The punishment for Cibo's crime was long ago fixed by our laws. All who attack the Duke's person must die thus.

GRACIOSA (Waves his excuses