Page:Poet Lore, volume 34, 1923.djvu/185

 should be enough to make all of you here consider him as a child of mine. And you, Don Antonio, must baptize him.

Don Antonio.—I? No.

General.—You refuse?

Don Antonio.—Absolutely.

General.—You wish to quarrel with me?

Don Antonio.—It displeases me. But to quarrel with myself displeases me more.

General.—I cannot understand this bitterness, when you all know that Clara, poor child, lived with Carlo as the best of wives. And that Carlo, in our presence, many times expressed the desire to marry her.

Dora.—Then why didn't he do it? He must have had his own reasons.

Malovina.—What you are saying is unjust, Dora. And you know it.

Dora.—I know that when a woman has once been able to conquer the repugnance that she must feel—undoubtedly, undoubtedly!—to live like that, openly with a man, afterwards

General.—You viper!

Dora.—And it would be funny (Laughs.) Uncle, if expecting him to be of direct descent to carry on your name you would find  some fine day  that the sweet surprise had been prepared for you. (The trembles with wrath.  continues taunting him.) After all, it might not be such an awful misfortune  by a robust laborer  (The  takes hold of her by the arm.) I say  by one of your laborers!

General (Shaking her violently).—Oh, white face! Face of marble!

Dora.—Uncle! What manners are these?

General.—You make me lose control of myself. (He goes off by way of the garden, muttering to himself:) Marble face marble face

Don Antonio.—He is a slave to his fixed idea

Francesca.—However, he suffers.

Malvina.—He is better than the rest of you. He does not try to drive out this poor little creature, for a fault not its own.

Dora.—You are ingenuous. My uncle has his own object in view.

Francesca.—And you have not? Why do you come here every day? Why did you insist upon going in there a short while