Studies in the Poetry of Italy, Part I. Roman — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Studies in the Poetry of Italy, Part I. Roman
John Stuart Mill · en
O, what _shall_ I do? Where shall I find a friend in my distress, or
to whom shall I go for advice? Where get help? For I'm afraid that my
young mistress is going to get into trouble from this marriage that I
persuaded her into. I hear that the young man's father is very much
put out about it. _Chr._ [_aside_]. Who in the world is this old
woman coming out of my brother's house? _So._ But want made me advise
her as I did, though I knew that the marriage was a bit shaky, in
order that for awhile at least we might be sure of our living. _Chr._
[_aside in great excitement_]. By Jove! unless I'm much mistaken, or
my eyes don't see straight, that's my daughter's nurse! _So._ And I
can't get any trace of the man who is her father. _Chr._ [_aside_].
Shall I go up to her, or shall I wait until I understand better what
she's talking about? _So._ But if I could only find him now, I'd have
nothing to fear. _Chr._ [_aside_]. It _is_ Sophrona; I'll speak to
her. [_Calling softly_]. Sophrona! _So._ Who is this I hear calling
my name? _Chr._ Look here, Sophrona. _So._ [_finally looking the
right way_]. My goodness gracious! Is this Stilpho? _Chr._ No. _So._
No? _Chr._ [_drawing her cautiously away from the vicinity of his
house_]. Say, Sophrona, come away a little from that door, will you?
And don't you ever call me by that name again. _So._ O, my goodness,
aren't you the man you always said you were? _Chr._ Sh! _So._ What
makes you so afraid of that door? _Chr._ I've got a savage wife shut
up there. I gave you the wrong name on purpose, that you might not
thoughtlessly blurt it out in public sometime, and so let my wife
here get wind of it. _So._ And so that's the reason why we poor women
could never find you here. _Chr._ Tell me now what business you have
with this household from which you have just come out. Where are
those women? _So._ [_with a burst of tears_]. O dear me! _Chr._ How?
What's that? Aren't they alive? _So._ Your daughter is. But the
mother, sick at heart over this business, is dead. _Chr._ That's too
bad! _So._ And then, considering that I was just a lonely old woman,
in a strange city without a cent of money, I think I did pretty well
for the girl, for I married her off to the young man the heir of this
family here. _Chr._ What, Antipho? _So._ Why, yes! _Chr._ You don't
mean to say he's got two wives? _So._ O gracious, no! This is the
only one. _Chr._ But what about that other girl who is said to be
related to him? _So._ Why, this is the one. _Chr._ [_beside himself
with joy and wonder_]. You don't mean it! _So._ That was a cooked up
scheme that her lover might marry her without a dowry. _Chr._ Thank
heaven for that! How often things come about by mere chance that you
wouldn't dare hope for! Here I find my daughter happily married to
the very man I had picked out for her! What my brother and I were