Enter FEDERICO with CASANDRA in his arms.
Rest here, my arms have been honoured to carry you this far.
I thank you, gentleman, for your care and kindness.
And I thank my good fortune for bringing me to these woods,
and off the tedious road I was travelling.
And who are these people, sir?
These are my servants, travelling with me.
Please do not be alarmed, Señora, they are all here to serve you.
BATIN enters with LUCRECIA, the maidservant, in his arms.
Tell me, woman, how is it that you are so heavy
if they say women are so light and flighty?
Sir, where are you taking me?
I’m at least going to get you off this sandy shore,
out of this river upon which you were left.
I think this was all a trick of the rivers
to reach out to such nymphs as you,
and as you forest sprites are known
for playing around with passing carriages,
if we hadn’t been so close by,
your games would have landed you in real trouble!
My lady, because I would like to speak with you at the
level of decorum your rank demands,
please tell me who you are.
Sir, of course. My name is Casandra,
now the Duchess of Ferrara,
daughter of the Duke of Mantua.
How can it be that you, my lady, are out here,
travelling alone?
I am not alone, that would be impossible;
the Marquis Gonzaga is not far from here,
I had asked him to leave me for a while,
while I took a walk, crossing a little path,
and I came to this river,
and I wanted to cool off in the heat of the afternoon,
so I came to the shoreline,
which looked to me to be covered
with trees and shadows,
so that the water seemed to be in disguise,
as more trees reflected in its surface,
so many, that Fortune itself could conceal its tricks;
but our carriage wheels were unlike the wheels of fortune
because they stopped turning, stuck fast in the mud.
Tell me, sir, who you are,
although I can already tell from your noble bearing and presence
that you must be a man of some worth;
and so for the favour and help you have shown me,
not only am I indebted to you,
but also the Marquis and my father
will be obliged to thank you as well.
Only after you give me your hand,
will you know who I am, your ladyship.
And you’re on your knees! It’s too much.
It’s not right for me to allow such displays
when I’m the one with an obligation to you.
My lady, it’s right and it’s imperative;
for, you see, I am your son.
I must confess that I have been a fool
not to recognise you right away.
Who, other than you,
could have saved me with such style and grace?
Come to my arms.
I only deserve your hand.
That’s not right.
My arms will begin to pay my debt to you,
my Count Federico.
I give you my soul in return.
The above sample taken from the translation Punishment without Revenge by Kathleen Jeffs (née Mountjoy) is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Count, when I consider God and the Duke,
I confess that I am trembling,
because I feel both their divine
and human powers
against our excess.
Yet seeing that sins of love
can be forgiven in this world,
I am less guilty,
because forgiveness is stronger than blame.
I have been thinking of others who have sinned,
because when one is determined to err,
when one desires to sin,
one looks to those who sinned before,
not to those who repented.
If there can be a remedy to this,
it is to flee from seeing and speaking to each other,
because without speech or sight,
either life has to end
or love will be defeated.
Flee from me, because I do not know
how I could run from you,
or I will die for your sake.
I, my Lady, will die;
for it is the best thing I could do for myself.
I do not want to live;
I am already a body without a soul,
and if by chance I should seek my own death,
I will not find it,
for death would give me relief.
I only ask that you give me your hand;
give me the poison that has killed me.
Federico, I condemn such an action,
for it would be to give flame to gunpowder.
Go with God.
What treachery!
I’d made my decision,
but it seems now that the poison
is rushing from my hand straight to my heart.
Casandra, you were a Siren;
you sang in order to throw me into the sea,
where you brought me to my death.
I will lose myself;
stay, honour; reputation, resist.
I can scarcely walk.
I am losing my soul and my senses.
Oh, what strange confusion!
I am dying for you.
I am not, because I am already dead.
Count, you will be my death.
I, though already dead,
am joyful even in losing you,
for the soul is immortal,
and I will never stop loving you.
The above sample taken from the translation Punishment without Revenge by Kathleen Jeffs (née Mountjoy) is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Entry written by Kathleen Jeffs. Last updated on 10 March 2011.