'Tis this-(springing up with enthusiasm.) “I have a Tyrant.” The Curtain falls. END OF THE FIRST ACT. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. Room at FIESKO'S.-LEONORA-ARABELLA. ARABELLA. No, No, I tell you! You saw wrong depend upon ityour jealousy deceived you! LEONORA. Don't talk to me of jealousy; I'm satisfied 'twas Julia. My miniature was suspended by a sky-blue ribband. This was flaming red. My fate I see's decided! Enter JULIA (affectedly.) JULIA. The Count has offered me his palace to view the proces sion to the senate-house. I fear I shall find the time a little tedious. Till the chocolate is ready, be good enough to entertain me, Madam. (ARABELLA retires and returns immediately.) LEONORA. If you please, I will invite company, Signora. JULIA. Very fine indeed! As if I came here to look for company. I'll thank you to entertain me yourself, Madam, (if that's in your power) for at present I have no particular engagement. ARABELLA (interrupting her.) Heavens, what a beautiful diamond! How cruel Signora to add magnificence to your other attractions! as if nature had not made you sufficiently formidable already-and such a glittering display of pearls too! their lustre makes one's eyes ache. Surely Signora, you must have pillaged the ocean! JULIA (examining herself in a glass.) They may indeed be a rarity to you Miss! but pray has your Mistress hired you for your tongue on these occassions? Charming Madam upon my word, to compliment your guests through the medium of your domestics. LEONORA. I am truly sorry Signora, that my present temper of mind makes me unequal to the pleasure of your society. JULIA. A most unhappy habit that of yours Madonna, that renders you at all times melancholy and stupid. Believe me, it will require more life, gaiety, and spirit, to secure your husband's affections. This is not the way to set about it. LEONORA. I know but one way Signora, and am sorry it differs so much from the mode you have adopted. JULIA (pretending not to notice her.) For Only see too how you carry yourself Madonna! God's sake bestow more pains upon your person—have recourse to art where you find nature unfriendly-and let rouge give a colour to your complexion. Believe me child, these pale cheeks of yours will never find a purchaser. LEONORA (turning quick to ARABELLA.) Congratulate me Bella. Either my Fiesko is not lost, or (if lost) he deserves not my affliction ! JULIA. What are you muttering there about losing Madonna? For my part, I cannot conceive how you stumbled on the ridiculous idea of choosing Fiesko. How could you aspire so high my good child? How could you wish for a situation, which draws upon you the observation of the world, and subjects you to so many invidious comparisons? Upon my word my dear, he must have been either a knave or a fool that married you to Fiesko, (taking her hand compassionately), for believe me, the man that makes a figure in our fashionable circles, was never calculated to become your husband. LEONORA. True Signora! for if he was, he would not wish to make a figure there. JULIA. The Count has person, taste, abilities. He has been fortunate too in making friends and connections of the first consideration. His disposition is gay, lively, sanguine, and aspiring. Fancy for a moment his melancholy situation, when he returns home from the fascinating circles of the beau-monde. His wife receives him with common place affection, damps his raptures with a kiss of frosty tenderness, and deals out her caresses to him with cold reserve and platonic indifference. Abroad he is tantalized with the sight of charms, he must not enjoy. At home he is disgusted with the possession of a woman he cannot love. Under these circumstances how is he to conduct himself Madonna? Will he not lose his senses? or whom next will he choose? |