A Servant of Two Masters

Beatrice has dressed herself as her brother, Federigo, for reasons too complicated to get into here.  She then claims Pantalone's daughter Clarice as her rightful bride.  Clarice, however, is in love with Silvio, the passionate son of Dottore Lombardi, a family friend.

Beatrice and Clarice

Beatrice: Signorina Clarice...

Clarice: Don't touch me! Not even close! Stay!

Beatrice: Is this the way to treat your future husband?

Clarice: You can drag me to the altar by my hand, but try as you will, you'll never touch my heart.

Beatrice: I understand why you're angry with me, but I hope there can still be peace between us.

Clarice: I will despise you forever.

Beatrice: If you really knew me for who I am, you wouldn't say that.

Clarice: I know who you really are. You're the thief of my joy, the disrupter of my peace, the destroyer of...

Beatrice: But I may have a way of consoling you.

Clarice: You don't! Only Silvio can do that!

Beatrice: Granted, I will never be able to offer what Silvio can, but there are ways I can contribute to your happiness.

Clarice: Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! (to herself) Nobody listens to me!

Beatrice: (to herself) I can't watch her suffer like this.

Clarice: (to herself) That was probably rude. But who cares? I have a right.

Beatrice: Signorina Clarice, may I let you in on a secret?

Clarice: A secret?

Beatrice: I can easily make you happy.

Clarice: No you can't.

Beatrice: I've deceived you. I have. You don't want me as a husband, and I have no intention of forcing you to marry me. You love someone else, so do I.

Clarice: You do? You won't?

Beatrice: So, you see, I can offer you real consolation.

Clarice: I knew there was a price.

Beatrice: A small one next to the joy it buys. No, no, not that. All you have to do is promise to keep my secret. If you do, then the mysteries I reveal will be balm for your troubled soul.

Clarice: (a pause) I promise to observe the most rigorous secrecy you can possibly imagine. Tell me.

Beatrice: I am not Federigo Rasponi. I'm Beatrice, his sister.

Clarice: You're a woman?!

Beatrice: I sure am. Now, what do you think the chances are that I'll go through with this wedding?

Clarice: But your brother...?

Beatrice: ...really is dead. And my lover may have been the author of his passing. So I must find him, to help him, to forgive him. Clarice, for all that is sacred in friendship, don't give me away. I'm probably foolish to tell this to anyone, but I can't see you so unhappy! And I know you can keep a secret, and you can keep it well. Besides, Silvio wants to kill me, which is a tendency of his I would like to discourage.

Clarice: Then I should tell Silvio.

Beatrice: No! Not a word of this to Silvio.

Clarice: I won't.

Beatrice: You be more serious about this than you have ever been about anything.

Clarice: I understand. I won't tell Silvio.

Beatrice: You still hate me?

Clarice: Hate you? No. Now you're my friend! Anything you need from your friend, it's yours before you ask.

Beatrice: To you, the same. Give me your hand.

Clarice: Um... I'd rather...

Beatrice: You're afraid that I am not really a woman, I can offer proof.

Clarice: No! It's just hard to believe, that's all.

Beatrice: It's hard for me to believe... that any of it is real, that it all actually happened.

Clarice: It is extravagantly surreal!

Beatrice: No. Not surreal. Real. Touch my hand. Friends, always?

                                        Clarice: Always. No doubts.

Smeraldina, then Truffaldino.

Smeraldina: Okay, if my padron sees me, what do I say? I say... that I came looking for him. Sure, that works. Always thinking.

Truffaldino: (with a bottle in hand, carrying a napkin and a glass) Somebody asked me to come out.?

Smeraldina: That was me, signor. My apologies if this is an inconvenience.

Truffaldino: (seeing her) Oh! (sobering a little) Not at all. I'm completely at your service.

Smeraldina: I interrupted your lunch. I am so distressed.

Truffaldino: That's okay, I can always go back.

Smeraldina: Really, I am mortified.

Truffaldino: No need, this is like desert. I ate a huge lunch, and so now I get a chance to digest a little... in the very pleasant company of a pair of beautiful... eyes.

Smeraldina: (to herself) Oh, he's so elegant!

Truffaldino: Just one more sip, my dear, and I am all yours. (he empties the glass, realizes who he's with, and decides to empty the bottle)

Smeraldina: (to herself) "My dear", that's so adorable. (to Truffaldino) My padrona has sent me here with this card for Signor Federigo Rasponi, you see, but I don't want to be seen going into a hotel, alone, with a message, you understand, so I'm discommoding you on the desire that you might... deliver... it for me. Since you're his servant?

Truffaldino: I'll take it right to him. (takes the card and starts to go, then sudden courage) But first, I also have message to deliver... to you.

Smeraldina: A message? From who... m?

Truffaldino: Oh, from a gentleman, of course. Have you ever heard of Truffaldino Battochio?

Smeraldina: The appellation is familiar but I cannot recollect with any certainty. (to herself) He's so cute!

Truffaldino: Oh, a very handsome fellow. Of modest stature, a rich dark complexion and a scintillating personality. Endowed with a silver tongue. A paragon of elegance.

Smeraldina: I am positive that I have never encountered such a wonderful man.

Truffaldino: And I'm just as sure if he ever... encountered... you he would fall instantly in love.

Smeraldina: Oh, signor, you flatter me.

Truffaldino: And were he able to entertain a hope of even the smallest reciprocation on your part, such would please him... hugely.

Smeraldina: I assure you, sir, were I to meet him, and were he to speak to me as eloquently as you are speaking of him to me, now, I would detect no impediment at all, on my part, in providing him the anticipation of recipro... city.

Truffaldino: Would you like to meet him right now?

Smeraldina: I would relish that very much.

Truffaldino: I'll be right back, don't go away. (goes into the hotel)

Smeraldina: I thought he was talking about himself. I guess not.

Truffaldino comes back out, bows to Smeraldina, kisses her hand, sighs deeply and goes back in

Truffaldino: (coming out again) Did you see him?

Smeraldina: Who?

Truffaldino: The man who is in love with you... bellezza.

Smeraldina: You're the only one I've seen.

Truffaldino: Mah! (and sighs, then glances sideways)

Smeraldina: Do you mean...?

Truffaldino: (sighing) Me.

Smeraldina: Why didn't you say...?!

Truffaldino: I'm shy.

Smeraldina: (to herself) A rock would fall in love with this guy.

Truffaldino: So... you have anything to say?

Smeraldina: I am... well...

Truffaldino: Say it.

Smeraldina: I'm... I'm shy, too.

Truffaldino: (to himself) If we can get through this introduction, we'll be the shyest couple in Venice.

Smeraldina: You make me shyer than I am to begin with.

Truffaldino: Are you... inexperienced in... such things?

Smeraldina: Inexperienced? Oh! To say the least! Don't even think about it.

Truffaldino: (pause) I'm not sure what comes next.

Smeraldina: What comes next is pretty obvious, seems to me.

Truffaldino: I am... totally inexperienced... in... these things.

Smeraldina: Okay, to be honest, I could have had 50 husbands by now. But...! Not one of them ever really appealed to me.

Truffaldino: Have you maybe found someone more appealing, just lately?

Smeraldina: To be honest, there's something about you that I... (suddenly afraid) I don't think I can say anymore.

Truffaldino: Now, just suppose, for example, someone was interested in marrying you, for instance, what would he have to do next, this person?

Smeraldina: I have no parents. He will have to talk with my padron or to his daughter.

Truffaldino: That's fine. And just supposing this person were to speak with them, what would they say, do you think?

Smeraldina: They'll say if I'm happy...

Truffaldino: And what would you say to them?

Smeraldina: I'll say... that if they're happy...

Truffaldino: Fine. Everyone'll be happy. Especially us. Especially... (almost kissing, then losing nerve) Gimme that message, I'll take in right in to my padron.

Smeraldina: Eccola.

Truffaldino: (he takes it and is about to go, but...) Um. You don't happen to know what's in it, do you?

Smeraldina: No. But oh, have I been curious!

Truffaldino: I wouldn't want it to be some kind of angry, turgid, tumultuous epistle, and I get punched in the nose because of it, you know?

Smeraldina: Right? But who knows, it might not even be a love letter.

Truffaldino: If I don't know what a letter says, I don't deliver it. It's a matter of personal safety.

Smeraldina: If only it was already open... but then, you do whatever you think is... proper.

Truffaldino: Eh, leave that to me. It could have gotten mangled at the post office, how would they know?

Smeraldina: You're right. Open it.

Truffaldino: Do you know how to read?

Smeraldina: A little. But you probably read better.

Truffaldino: Only a little.

Smeraldina: So, between the two of us...

Truffaldino: I'll open it very carefully (he tears off the end)

Smeraldina: What are you doing?!

Truffaldino: I have a special way of fixing it. There. Read it.

Smeraldina: No, you go ahead, first.

Truffaldino: No, you... you'll understand her handwriting better than I will.

They go back and forth like this for awhile, then finally, she looks at the letter.

Smeraldina: To be honest? I don't understand anything.

Truffaldino: (he looks at the letter) Me neither. Not even one word.

Smeraldina: What good was it to open it, then?

Truffaldino: Hold on, I'm an intelligent guy, there must be something I can figure out.

Smeraldina: I can recognize a couple of letters.

Truffaldino: Good, we'll do this together, piece by piece. Isn't this an "M"?

Smeraldina: Pffh, no! That's an "R".

Truffaldino: There's not much difference between an "R" and an "M", is there?

Smeraldina: Ra, ra.... ra... No, no, you're right, I think it is an "M" Ma, ma... man!

Truffaldino: No, that's not "man" it's "rum". It's an "R", you were right. And that's an "M".

Smeraldina: Rum? Why would the letter have "rum" in it?

Truffaldino: Well, it's either "rum" or "ram".

Smeraldina: Maybe it's in code.

Truffaldino: So it must be "rum"

Smeraldina: That's "man", not "rum".

Silvio has gravely offended Clarice, and all are now trying to get her to forgive him.

A room in Pantalone's House. Pantalone, il Dottore, Clarice, Silvio, Smeraldina.

Pantalone: Now, Clarice, don't be stubborn. See how sorry Silvio is? He didn't mean to offend you, he just got a little too worked up over the idea of losing you. I've forgiven him for all the weird, harebrained things he's done lately, so you can forgive him, too, can't you? (nothing) Clarice?

Silvio: View your own pain against the background of my suffering, and it will convince you that I am true in love. Why, even the possibility of your loss threw me into a fury so profound that it drove me near to madness. But destiny has proclaimed that we should be happy together, and happy we will be unless you refuse fortune's gift. (nothing) Clarice, don't ruin the best day of our lives just because you somehow imagine I've offended you...

Dottore: ...If I may address the issue along similar lines as my son, Signorina Clarice, my dear, think of what your obstinacy is doing to me, a poor old man, not too well to begin with and about to go crazy unless you...

Smeraldina: ...So he was a monster for a little while? Padrona mia! All men are monsters especially if they suspect something. They yell and threaten and want us dead, it's just the way they are. (nothing) Okay, look at it this way, when you're got a flu you have to pinch your nose and swallow the medicine, right? Well, you're going to marry some guy, someday, so just pinch your nose and swallow, get it over with.

Pantalone: Did you hear that? Smeraldina says marriage is medicine. Med-i-cine, not poison. You seem to think it'll kill you! (to the Doctor) I don't think this approach is working.

Dottore: My dear girl, marriage is neither medicine nor is it poison. Marriage is chocolate cake, maple syrup, a raspberry parfait. Marriage is like a...

Silvio: ...Darling, dearest, sweetest Clarice, how can you be so silent? You haven't said a word to me. I know I deserve your contempt, but please, punish me with words, your silence is destroying me. (nothing) Have you no pity for your poor Silvio?

Clarice: (she sighs, all lean forward... then...) Bastard.

Pantalone: (to the Dottore) Did you hear that little sigh. That's a good sign.

Dottore: (to Silvio) Advance your argument.

Smeraldina: (to herself) That sigh sounded like a torch being snuffed out by a rainstorm.

Silvio: Were you to say that only my blood has value enough to compensate for my cruelty, I would accept that as just. But, oh my precious one, it is not my veins you open to punitive flood, but my eyes! (weeps profoundly)

Pantalone: (clapping) Bravo!

Clarice: (with a sigh as before, but with a little more tenderness) Bastard.

Dottore: (to Pantalone) We almost have a verdict.

Pantalone: Silvio, stand up. Come here. (he takes his hand). You too, sweetheart. My beautiful children, join hands. Go ahead. No more crying. No more pouting. To forgive is divine. (they hesitate)

Dottore: Come on, do it.

Smeraldina: Do it, do it!

Silvio: (reaching for her hand) Clarice, for pity sakes.

Clarice: (pulling away) Scontrone! [peevish man: scon-trohn-eh]

Silvio: My heart is bleeding.

Clarice: Selvaggione! [wildman: sehl-vahj-jyoh-neh]

Silvio: My soul is in anguish.

Clarice: Zoticone! Sciagurato! Buffone! [boor - zoh-tih-ko-neh, wretch - shyah-gur-ah-toh, fool -boof-foh-neh]

Silvio: I think I'm gonna throw up.

Clarice: (a big sigh) Ah!

Pantalone: (to himself) Going...

Silvio: Can't you ever forgive me?

Clarice: (a disgusted sigh) Aaah!

Pantalone: ... going...

Clarice: (pause) Alight, I forgive you.

Pantalone: (to himself) Gone!

Dottore: (to Silvio who is standing, dazed and unmoving) Silvio, kiss her, you're pardoned.

Smeraldina: The patient has taken her medicine!

Pantalone: (to himself, wiping a tear) Youth. So beautiful.