DON AL. No, no, I wasn't! I wasn't!
GIU. Now, my man (slapping him on the back), we don't want
anything in your line to-day, and if your curiosity's
satisfied—you can go!
DON AL. You mustn't call me your man. It's a liberty. I
don't think you know who I am.
GIU. Not we, indeed! We are jolly gondoliers, the sons of
Baptisto Palmieri, who led the last revolution. Republicans,
heart and soul, we hold all men to be equal. As we abhor
oppression, we abhor kings: as we detest vain-glory, we detest
rank: as we despise effeminacy, we despise wealth. We are
Venetian gondoliers—your equals in everything except our
calling, and in that at once your masters and your servants.
DON AL. Bless my heart, how unfortunate! One of you may be
Baptisto's son, for anything I know to the contrary; but the
other is no less a personage than the only son of the late King
of Barataria.
ALL. What!
DON AL. And I trust—I trust it was that one who slapped me
on the shoulder and called me his man!
GIU. One of us a king!
MAR. Not brothers!
TESS. The King of Barataria! [Together]
GIA. Well, who'd have thought it!
MAR. But which is it?
DON AL. What does it matter? As you are both Republicans,
and hold kings in detestation, of course you'll abdicate at once.
Good morning! (Going.)
GIA. and TESS. Oh, don't do that! (Marco and Giuseppe stop
him.)
GIU. Well, as to that, of course there are kings and kings.
When I say that I detest kings, I mean I detest bad kings.
DON AL. I see. It's a delicate distinction.
GIU. Quite so. Now I can conceive a kind of king—an ideal
king—the creature of my fancy, you know—who would be absolutely
unobjectionable. A king, for instance, who would abolish taxes
and make everything cheap, except gondolas—
MAR. And give a great many free entertainments to the
gondoliers—
GIU. And let off fireworks on the Grand Canal, and engage
all the gondolas for the occasion—
MAR. And scramble money on the Rialto among the gondoliers.
GIU. Such a king would be a blessing to his people, and if
I were a king, that is the sort of king I would be.
MAR. And so would I!
DON AL. Come, I'm glad to find your objections are not
insuperable.
MAR. and GIU. Oh, they're not insuperable.
GIA. and TESS. No, they're not insuperable.
GIU. Besides, we are open to conviction.
GIA. Yes; they are open to conviction.
TESS. Oh! they've often been convicted.
GIU. Our views may have been hastily formed on insufficient
grounds. They may be crude, ill-digested, erroneous. I've a
very poor opinion of the politician who is not open to
conviction.
TESS. (to Gia.). Oh, he's a fine fellow!
GIA. Yes, that's the sort of politician for my money!
DON AL. Then we'll consider it settled. Now, as the
country is in a state of insurrection, it is absolutely necessary
that you should assume the reins of Government at once; and,
until it is ascertained which of you is to be king, I have
arranged that you will reign jointly, so that no question can
arise hereafter as to the validity of any of your acts.
MAR. As one individual?
DON AL. As one individual.
GIU. (linking himself with Marco). Like this?
DON AL. Something like that.
MAR. And we may take our friends with us, and give them
places about the Court?
DON AL. Undoubtedly. That's always done!
MAR. I'm convinced!
GIU. So am I!
TESS. Then the sooner we're off the better.
GIA. We'll just run home and pack up a few things (going)—
DON AL. Stop, stop—that won't do at all—ladies are not
admitted.
ALL. What!
DON AL. Not admitted. Not at present. Afterwards,
perhaps. We'll see.
GIU. Why, you don't mean to say you are going to separate
us from our wives!
DON AL. (aside). This is very awkward! (Aloud.) Only for
a time—a few months. Alter all, what is a few months?
TESS. But we've only been married half an hour! (Weeps.)
FINALE, ACT I.
SONG—GIANETTA.
Kind sir, you cannot have the heart
Our lives to part
From those to whom an hour ago
We were united!
Before our flowing hopes you stem,
Ah, look at them,
And pause before you deal this blow,
All uninvited!
You men can never understand
That heart and hand
Cannot be separated when
We go a-yearning;
You see, you've only women's eyes
To idolize
And only women's hearts, poor men,
To set you burning!
Ah me, you men will never understand
That woman's heart is one with woman's hand!
Some kind of charm you seem to find
In womankind—
Some source of unexplained delight
(Unless you're jesting),
But what attracts you, I confess,
I cannot guess,
To me a woman's face is quite
Uninteresting!
If from my sister I were torn,
It could be borne—
I should, no doubt, be horrified,
But I could bear it;—
But Marco's quite another thing—
He is my King,
He has my heart