书城公版The Brown Fairy Book
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第20章

THE FLORENTINE STRANGER

Two evenings had elapsed since the Doge's entertainment. On the second, Parozzi sat in his own apartment, with Memmo and Falieri.

Dimly burnt the lights; lowering and tempestuous were the skies without; gloomy and fearful were the souls of the libertines within.

Parozzi (after a long silence).--What, are you both dreaming? Ho, there, Memmo, Falieri, fill your goblets.

Memmo (with indifference).--Well, to please you--. But I care not for wine to-night.

Falieri.--Nor I. Methinks it tastes like vinegar: yet the wine itself is good: 'tis our ill temper spoils it.

Parozzi.--Confound the rascals.

Memmo.--What, the banditti?

Parozzi.--Not a trace of them can be found. It is enough to kill one with vexation.

Falieri.--And in the meanwhile the time runs out, our projects will get wind, and then we shall sit quietly in the State prisons of Venice, objects of derision to the populace and ourselves. I could tear my flesh for anger. (A universal silence.)Parozzi (striking his hand against the table passionately).--Flodoardo, Flodoardo.

Falieri.--In a couple of hours I must attend the Cardinal Gonzaga, and what intelligence shall I have to give him?

Memmo.--Come, come, Contarino cannot have been absent so long without cause; I warrant you he will bring some news with him when he arrives.

Falieri.--Pshaw, pshaw! My life on't he lies at this moment at Olympia's feet, and forgets us, the Republic, the banditti, and himself.

Parozzi.--And so neither of you know anything of this Flodoardo?

Memmo.--No more than of what happened on Rosabella's birthday.

Falieri.--Well, then, I know one thing more about him; Parozzi is jealous of him.

Parozzi.--I? Ridiculous, Rosabella may bestow her hand on the German Emperor, or a Venetian gondolier, without its giving me the least anxiety.

Falieri.--Ha! ha! ha!

Memmo.--Well, one thing at least even envy must confess; Flodoardo is the handsomest man in Venice. I doubt whether there's a woman in the city who can resist him.

Parozzi.--And I should doubt it too, if women had as little sense as you have, and looked only at the shell without minding the kernel -Memmo.--Which unluckily is exactly the thing which women always do -Falieri.--The old Lomellino seems to be extremely intimate with this Flodoardo. They say he was well acquainted with his father.

Memmo.--It was he who presented him to the Doge.

Parozzi.--Hark!--Surely some one knocked at the palace door?

Memmo.--It can be none but Contarino. Now, then, we shall hear whether he has discovered the banditti.

Falieri (starting from his chair).--I'll swear to that footstep, it's Contarino.

The doors were thrown open. Contarino entered hastily, enveloped in his cloak.

"Good evening, sweet gentlemen," said he, and threw his mantle aside. And Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri started back in horror.

"Good God!" they exclaimed, "what has happened? You are covered with blood?""A trifle!" cried Contarino; "is that wine? quick, give me a goblet of it, I expire with thirst."Falieri (while he gives him a cup).--But, Contarino, you bleed?

Contarino.--You need not tell me that. I did not do it myself, Ipromise you.

Parozzi.--First let us bind up your wounds, and then tell us what has happened to you. It is as well that the servants should remain ignorant of your adventure; I will be your surgeon myself.

Contarino.--What has happened to me, say you? Oh! a joke, gentlemen, a mere joke. Here, Falieri, fill the bowl again.

Memmo.--I can scarcely breathe for terror.

Contarino.--Very possibly; neither should I, were I Memmo instead of being Contarino. The wound bleeds plenteously it's true, but it's by no means dangerous (he tore open his doublet, and uncovered his bosom). There, look, comrades; you see it's only a cut of not more than two inches deep.

Memmo (shuddering).--Mercy on me! the very sight of it makes my blood run cold.

Parozzi brought ointments and linen, and bound up the wound of his associate.

Contarino.--Old Horace is in the right. A philosopher can be anything he pleases, a cobbler, a king, or a physician. Only observe with what dignified address the philosopher Parozzi spreads that plaster for me. I thank you, friend; that's enough: and now, comrades, place yourselves in a circle round me, and listen to the wonders which I am going to relate.

Falieri.--Proceed.