Coronato _from out the inn. The above._
_Coronato._ You called me?
_Baron._ Has Signor Evarist returned?
_Coronato._ I have not seen him yet, sir. I am sorry, because the dinner
is ready, and the food will get spoilt.
_Count._ Evarist is capable of amusing himself shooting till evening,
and making you lose your dinner.
_Baron._ What can I do? I promised to wait for him.
_Count._ Well, it's all very well to wait for him up to a certain point.
But, my dear friend, it does not seem to me you should wait long for a
person who is your social inferior. I admit the demands of politeness,
of humanity; but, my dear colleague, let us also preserve our
aristocratic decorum.
_Baron._ I feel half inclined to ask you to come and take Evarist's
place.
_Count._ If you do not wish to wait for him, or if you dislike eating
alone, come to my house and take pot-luck.
_Baron._ No, no, my dear Count. Do me the pleasure of dining with me.
Let us go to table, and if Evarist is not punctual, that is his loss.
_Count._ [_Content._] It will teach him politeness.
_Baron._ [_To_ Coronato.] Tell them to serve.
_Coronato._ Yes, sir. [_Aside._] H'm, h'm! there'll be little left for
the kitchen now.
_Baron._ I will go and see that they have prepared for our dinner.
[_Enters._]
_Count._ [_To_ Coronato.] Have you taken the second barrel of wine?
_Coronato._ Yes, sir, I sent it to your house.
_Count._ You sent it! without going with it? I fear mischief.
_Coronato._ I will tell you. I accompanied the man until the turn of the
road, where we met your servant.
_Count._ My steward?
_Coronato._ No, sir.
_Count._ My footman?
_Coronato._ No, sir.
_Count._ My lackey?
_Coronato._ No, sir.
_Count._ Who then?
_Coronato._ That man who lives with you, and sells your fruit, salad,
vegetables.
_Count._ What! that man?
_Coronato._ Just so. I met him, showed him the barrel, and he
accompanied my servant.
_Count._ [_Aside._] The devil! that fellow, who never sees wine, is
capable of drinking up half the barrel. [_Goes towards the door._]
_Coronato._ Excuse me.
_Count._ What is it?
_Coronato._ Have you spoken for me to Nina?
_Count._ [_Embarrassed._] All right, all right!
_Coronato._ All right?
_Count._ [_Advancing towards the door._] We will speak about it after.
_Coronato._ But tell me one thing.
_Count._ Come, come, let me go in, so as not to keep the Baron waiting.
_Coronato._ [_Aside._] I have good hopes. He is a man, if he takes up a
cause, to succeed with it--sometimes.--[_In loving yet harsh tones._]
Nina! Nina!
[Nina _spins on and does not reply._]
_Coronato._ Allow me at least to salute you.
_Nina._ [_Without looking up._] You would do better to give me back my
fan.
_Coronato._ Indeed!--[_Aside._] Oh, by the bye, I left that fan in the
cellar!--Yes, yes, let us speak of that fan.--[_Aside._] I hope no one
has carried it off. [_Goes into the house._]
[Crispino _laughs aloud._]
_Susanna._ You seem to have a light heart, Crispino, you laugh so
merrily.
_Crispino._ I laugh because I have my reasons for laughing.
_Nina._ [_To_ Crispino.] You laugh, and I feel gnawed with anger.
_Crispino._ Anger? And what are you angry about?
_Nina._ That that fan should be in Coronato's hands.
_Crispino._ [_Laughing._] Yes, it is in Coronato's hands.
_Nina._ Then why do you laugh?
_Crispino._ I laugh because it is in Coronato's hands. [_Gets up and
carries the remains of his meal into his workshop._]
_Nina._ What silly laughter!
_Susanna._ I never thought my fan would pass through so many hands.
_Nina._ [_Looking at her with amazement._] Your fan?
_Susanna._ Oh, I say my fan because it came from my shop.
_Nina._ I suppose you were paid for it?
_Susanna._ Of course, else I should not have given it.
_Nina._ And it will also have been paid double its worth?
_Susanna._ Not so; and even were it so, what does it matter to you? For
what it cost you, you can accept it.
_Nina._ How do you know what it costs me?
_Susanna._ [_Sarcastically and pointedly._] Oh, I don't know what it
cost you, nor whether he who gave it you has great obligations towards
you.
_Nina._ What obligations? What do you mean by obligations? Do I meddle
in your affairs?
_Susanna._ There, there, don't excite yourself! You don't intimidate me
with your fury!
_Crispino._ [_From out the shop._] What's the matter? Incessant
bickerings, incessant high words.
_Susanna._ She makes side hits and expects one to keep silent.
_Crispino._ Are you angry, Nina?
_Nina._ I angry? I am never angry!
_Susanna._ Oh, she loves peace, and never excites herself!
_Nina._ Never, except when I am teased, if I have to hear impertinences,
if I am trampled under foot.
[Susanna _mutters to herself._]
_Crispino._ Is it I who ill-treat you, tease you, trample you under
foot?
_Nina._ [_Spinning sulkily._] I am not speaking of you.
_Susanna._ No, she does not refer to you, she refers to me.
_Crispino._ One might really say it is an art to live for five minutes
in peace on this square.
_Nina._ When evil tongues are abroad.
_Crispino._ Quiet! it is shameful.
_Susanna._ One is to be insulted, and then not speak.
_Nina._ I speak reasonably.
_Susanna._ Better I should be silent.
_Nina._ Certainly it is better to be silent than say foolish things.
_Crispino._ You will always have the last word.
_Nina._ Yes; and were I in my grave--
[Timoteo _from out the villa with cups and bottles._]
_Nina._ He who wants me, takes me as I am, and who does not want me,
leaves me alone!
_Crispino._ Do be quiet at last!
_Timoteo._ [_Aside._] I won't go again into that house. Is it my fault
that these waters don't help? I can only give what I have. They expect
to find all the refinements of town in a village. And then what are
spirits, cordials, essences? So many quack remedies. The corner-stones
of an apothecary are, water, quinine, mercury. [_Goes into his shop._]
_Crispino._ Some one must be ill at the villa.
_Nina._ [_With contempt._] Yes, that dear jewel of a Signorina Candida!
_Susanna._ Poor Signorina Candida!
_Crispino._ What is the matter with her?
_Susanna._ [_Pointedly._] Nina should know something about it.
_Nina._ I? What have I to do with it?
_Susanna._ Because she is ill on your account.
_Nina._ On my account! [_Springs to her feet._]
_Susanna._ Oh, one cannot speak quietly with you.
_Crispino._ I should like to know what all this means. [_Gets up from
his work._]
_Nina._ [_To_ Susanna.] You are only able to say silly things!
_Susanna._ There, there, don't excite yourself.
_Crispino._ [_To_ Nina.] Let her speak.
_Nina._ Well, speak, then.
_Susanna._ I won't say anything more to you!
_Nina._ If you have any sense of honour, speak.
_Susanna._ If matters are thus, well, I will.
_Crispino._ Quiet there! Signora Geltrude is approaching. No scenes
before her.
_Nina._ She shall give me an explanation!