you fool,
I never bid you say a word of that.
maria
Nor did I say a word of that you said;
I said, ‘She loves him not, my lord, nor loves
Any man else. Yet she might like to love,
If she were loved by one who pleased her well;
For she is weary of spinning long alone.
She is not rich and yet she is not poor; but young
She is, my lord, and you are young. [Pauses smiling.]
·135· bianca
Quick, quick!
maria
There, there! ’Twas but to show you how I smiled
Saying the lord was young. It took him too;
For he said, ‘This will do! If I should call
To-night to pay respect unto your lovely—
Our lovely mistress, tell her that I said,
Our lovely mistress, shall I be received?’
And I said, ‘Yes.’ Then say I come and if
All else is well let her throw down some favour
When as I pass below/ He should be there!
Look from the balcony; he should be there!—
And there he is, dost see?
bianca
Some favour. Yes.
This ribbon weighted by this brooch will do.
Maria, be you busy near within, but, till
I call take care you enter not. Go down
And let the young lord in, for hark, he knocks. [Exit Maria.]
·136· Great ladies might he choose from and yet he
Is drawn … ah, there my fear is! Was he drawn
By love to me—by love’s young strength alone?
That’s where it is, if I were sure he loved,
I then might do what greater dames have done
And venge me on a husband blind to beauty.
But if! Ah if! he is a wandering bee,
Mere gallant taster, who befools poor flowers …
[Maria opens the door for Guido Bardi, and then withdraws.]
My lord, I learn that we have something here,
In this poor house, which thou dost wish to buy.
My husband is from home, but my poor fate
Has made me perfect in the price of velvets,
Of silks and gay brocades. I think you offered
Some forty thousand crowns, or fifty thousand,
For something we have here? And it must be
That wonder of the loom, which my Simone
Has lately home; it is a Lucca damask,
The web is silver over-wrought with roses.
Since you did offer fifty thousand crowns
It must be that. Pray wait, for I will fetch it.
·137· guido
Nay, nay, thou gracious wonder of a loom
More cunning far than those of Lucca, I
Had in my thought no damask silver cloth
By hunch-back weavers woven toilsomely.
If such are priced at fifty thousand crowns
It shames me, for I hoped to buy a fabric
For which a hundred thousand then were little.
bianca
A hundred thousand was it that you said?
Nay, poor Simone for so great a sum
Would sell you everything the house contains.
The thought of such a sum doth daze the brains
Of merchant folk who live such lives as ours.
guido
Would he sell everything this house contains?
And every one, would he sell every one?
bianca
Oh, everything and every one, my lord,
Unless it were himself; he values not
·138· A woman as a velvet, or a wife
At half the price of silver-threaded woof.
guido
Then I would strike a bargain with him straight»
bianca
He is from home; may be will sleep from home;
But I, my lord, can show you all we have;
Can measure ells and sum their price, my lord.
guido
It is thyself, Bianca, I would buy.
bianca
O, then, my lord, it must be with Simone
You strike your bargain; for to sell myself
Would be to do what I most truly loathe.
Good-night, my lord; it is with deep regret
I find myself unable to oblige
Your lordship.
guido
Nay, I pray thee let me stay
And pardon me the sorry part I played,
·139· As though I were a chapman and intent
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