The Duchess of Padua. Wilde Oscar

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      Dost thou mark his words?

      Oh, be thou sure I do.

      And be not over-scrupulous; clean hands

      With nothing in them make a sorry show.

      If you would have the lion’s share of life

      You must wear the fox’s skin.  Oh, it will fit you;

      It is a coat which fitteth every man.

      Your Grace, I shall remember.

      That is well, boy, well.

      I would not have about me shallow fools,

      Who with mean scruples weigh the gold of life,

      And faltering, paltering, end by failure; failure,

      The only crime which I have not committed:

      I would have men about me.  As for conscience,

      Conscience is but the name which cowardice

      Fleeing from battle scrawls upon its shield.

      You understand me, boy?

      I do, your Grace,

      And will in all things carry out the creed

      Which you have taught me.

      I never heard your Grace

      So much in the vein for preaching; let the Cardinal

      Look to his laurels, sir.

      The Cardinal!

      Men follow my creed, and they gabble his.

      I do not think much of the Cardinal;

      Although he is a holy churchman, and

      I quite admit his dulness.  Well, sir, from now

      We count you of our household

      We will see

      That you are furnished with such equipage

      As doth befit your honour and our state.

      I thank your Grace most heartily.

      Tell me again

      What is your name?

      Guido Ferranti, sir.

      And you are Mantuan?  Look to your wives, my lords,

      When such a gallant comes to Padua.

      Thou dost well to laugh, Count Bardi; I have noted

      How merry is that husband by whose hearth

      Sits an uncomely wife.

      May it please your Grace,

      The wives of Padua are above suspicion.

      What, are they so ill-favoured!  Let us go,

      This Cardinal detains our pious Duchess;

      His sermon and his beard want cutting both:

      Will you come with us, sir, and hear a text

      From holy Jerome?

      My liege, there are some matters —

      Thou need’st make no excuse for missing mass.

      Come, gentlemen.

      So the Duke sold my father;

      I kissed his hand.

      Thou shalt do that many times.

      Must it be so?

      Ay! thou hast sworn an oath.

      That oath shall make me marble.

      Farewell, boy,

      Thou wilt not see me till the time is ripe.

      I pray thou comest quickly.

      I will come

      When it is time; be ready.

      Fear me not.

      Here is your friend; see that you banish him

      Both from your heart and Padua.

      From Padua,

      Not from my heart.

      Nay, from thy heart as well,

      I will not leave thee till I see thee do it.

      Can I have no friend?

      Revenge shall be thy friend;

      Thou need’st no other.

      Well, then be it so.

      Come, Guido, I have been beforehand with you in everything, for I have drunk a flagon of wine, eaten a pasty, and kissed the maid who served it. Why, you look as melancholy as a schoolboy who cannot buy apples, or a politician who cannot sell his vote. What news, Guido, what news?

      Why, that we two must part, Ascanio.

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