The Cask of Amontillado

ROME - a Hall in a Palace. ALESSANDRA and CASTIGLIONE.

Alessandra Thou art sad, Castiglione.

Castiglione Sad!-not I.

Oh, I'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome!

A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra,

Will make thee mine. Oh, I am very happy!

Alessandra Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing

Thy happiness-what ails thee, cousin of mine?

Why didst thou sigh so deeply?

Castiglione Did I sigh?

I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion,

A silly-a most silly fashion I have

When I am very happy. Did I sigh? [sighing]

Alessandra Thou didst. Thou art not well. Thou hast indulged

Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it.

Late hours and wine, Castiglione,-these

Will ruin thee! thou art already altered-

Thy looks are haggard-nothing so wears away

The constitution as late hours and wine.

Castiglione (musing) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing-

Not even deep sorrow-

Wears it away like evil hours and wine.

I will amend.

Alessandra Do it! I would have thee drop

Thy riotous company, too-fellows low born

Ill suit the like of old Di Broglio's heir

And Alessandra's husband.

Castiglione I will drop them.

Alessandra Thou wilt-thou must. Attend thou also more

To thy dress and equipage-they are over plain

For thy lofty rank and fashion-much depends

Upon appearances.

Castiglione I'll see to it.

Alessandra Then see to it!-pay more attention, sir,

To a becoming carriage-much thou wantest

In dignity.

Castiglione Much, much, oh, much I want

In proper dignity.

Alessandra (haughtily) Thou mockest me, sir!

Castiglione (abstractedly) Sweet, gentle Lalage!

Alessandra Heard I aright?

I speak to him-he speaks of Lalage?

Sir Count!

[places her hand on his shoulder]

what art thou dreaming?

He's not well!

What ails thee, sir?

Castiglione (starting) Cousin! fair cousin!-madam!

I crave thy pardon-indeed I am not well-

Your hand from off my shoulder, if you please.

This air is most oppressive!-Madam-the Duke!

Enter Di Broglio

Di Broglio My son, I've news for thee!-hey!-what's the matter?

[observing Alessandra].

I' the pouts? Kiss her, Castiglione! kiss her,

You dog! and make it up, I say, this minute!

I've news for you both. Politian is expected

Hourly in Rome-Politian, Earl of Leicester!

We'll have him at the wedding. 'Tis his first visit

To the imperial city.

Alessandra What! Politian

Of Britain, Earl of Leicester?

Di Broglio The same, my love.

We'll have him at the wedding. A man quite young

In years, but gray in fame. I have not seen him,

But Rumor speaks of him as of a prodigy

Pre-eminent in arts, and arms, and wealth,

And high descent. We'll have him at the wedding.

Alessandra I have heard much of this Politian.

Gay, volatile and giddy-is he not,

And little given to thinking?

Di Broglio Far from it, love.

No branch, they say, of all philosophy

So deep abstruse he has not mastered it.

Learned as few are learned.

Alessandra 'Tis very strange!

I have known men have seen Politian

And sought his company. They speak of him

As of one who entered madly into life,

Drinking the cup of pleasure to the dregs.

Castiglione Ridiculous! Now I have seen Politian

And know him well-nor learned nor mirthful he.

He is a dreamer, and shut out

From common passions.

Di Broglio Children, we disagree.

Let us go forth and taste the fragrant air

Of the garden. Did I dream, or did I hear

Politian was a melancholy man?

[Exeunt]