“I admire beauty more than Christ but know it for the traps it lays, for beauty oft betrays the truth like the pretty painted stones in a rich man’s garden whose underside’s a fetid shield for vermin. For ’tis this I value most–truth! Truth when ugly values more than pretty lies.” Act I, Scene 5
“A woman’s lot is hard, her eye suspicious, her ear alive to threats and pretty lies. We know what they say, but not what they are. Even amongst themselves, men play and boast and hide their wounded hearts.” Act II, Scene 5
What would Shakespeare think of today’s hyper-sexed society? Of gender equality? Of the vanishing frontiers between men and women? Undoubtedly, he would love it! The two noblewomen who hail from Croessus, the sisters Bianca and Catarina, are strong-willed young women anxious to know the world…from both a female and a male perspective. Their world is the Lombardy of Renaissance Italy, but their experiences, mentality and common sense are universal. They are aided by their uncle, eccentric but wise Modesta. From two young gentlemen of Verona, Antonio and Valentino, they learn truths both harsh and beautiful. The lovely Countess Beatrice traces for them, not the ages of man, but the ages of woman (“I would be young again, with skin like cream, breasts burdened by milk, their peaks raw and purple, admired by men and women both, courtiers, courtesans, soothsayers, any sage or fool”). Two Noblewomen of Croessus is a full-length play in two acts, written in heightened speech for 12 characters. Find first scene of Two Noblewomen of Croessus below.
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ACT I
Scene 1
SETTING: A comfortable loge, or family sitting room, in the palatial mansion of Tempesta, a wealthy merchant of Croessus, a wool manufacturing and trading center in Northern Italy. The room occupies only a portion of stage left. It features several plush chairs, including one, larger than the others, set aside for the master of the house. To the left of the chairs, a wall has been organized with shelves. These are stocked, not with books, but with an array of art objects. The overall impression is one of order, hard-scrubbed cleanliness and distinctive but discreet wealth.
AT RISE: The room is bathed in soft light. A distant lute plays a lullaby. BIANCA, the pretty younger daughter of Tempesta and Constanza, sits on one of the plush chairs, facing the audience. She is reading a book. Bianca is dressed in a white chemise and her hair is pulled back as if ready for bed. CATERINA, Bianca’s slightly older sister, enters from stage right. She is also dressed for bed but her stride, as she approaches the loge, is firm. She stops, finds Bianca’s gaze, smiles and flops onto the next chair. Bianca shuts her book with a loud thud and looks at her sister as if to say, “Well? What do you want?” The soft tones of the lute fade away.
CATERINA
Bianca?
BIANCA
That is my name. How clever you are!
CATERINA
Dearest sister…
BIANCA
…and you are more clever still for that is my station, as oft I wish it the only one, and would be not the daughter of cross Tempesta or remotest cousin of his dear, dear wife.
CATERINA
But you owe your life to his dear, dear wife!
BIANCA
You mean I owe my birth. My life is but my own and I would live it as myself, Bianca. (Stentorian, as if declaiming a poem) ‘As I would not be a Capulet, I would not be a Montague,’ nor daughter of a Doge!
CATERINA
Nor that of the wealthiest merchant of Croessus?
BIANCA
No! Nor of Venice or of Rome!
CATERINA
Nor wife of such a one?
BIANCA
No! I would be one and only, first and last, dear Caterina’s sister, Bianca. And you?
CATERINA
I would be rare Bianca’s sister too.
BIANCA
Good! Now, what is it that you want?
CATERINA
Only this. Suitors await us on the morrow…
BIANCA
Why must we have suitors? I do not wish for suitors. I dislike them. They are pretty boys who become, as by whim or spell, a pack of yelping dogs. And I do not like dogs. They jolt and snap when aroused, then beg and drool for a feeding. I prefer horses—swift, smooth of muscle and with no minds of their own.
CATERINA
Why disparage them so?
BIANCA
Dogs or suitors?
CATERINA
Principally, suitors.
BIANCA
I do not know what they want. (In an exaggerated tone of pleading) Tell my, Caterina, tell me, dear sister, older sister—you who know everything–what does man want? Do you know? Then, tell me!
CATERINA
I do.
BIANCA
And what is it?
CATERINA
The fattest dowries in fat Croessus!
BIANCA
I would banish them!
CATERINA
As I. (Pondering) Or?
BIANCA
Or what?
CATERINA
We could banish ourselves!
BIANCA
(Astonished) What? (More thoughtful) Why?
CATERINA
I know what man wants but I do not know who he is.
BIANCA
Speak not to me in riddles.
CATERINA
Are these suitors–abhorrent shams–all the world can offer? Are there no just, unfailing men?
BIANCA
You set a pretty problem but we cannot know its answer.
CATERINA
We can, but not as ourselves, as Bianca and Caterina, late and always of manor house and field; only as other than ourselves and elsewhere than here in crowded Croessus.
BIANCA
Whatever can you mean?
CATERINA
As milkmaids, peasant girls, the tavern-keeper’s daughter, one-time wife of dear, departed sargeants…You see? As daughers of Tempesta, we own the world, but are imprisoned by it. The poor man’s daughter walks its shining meadow; she sings, and wallows naked in its streams. The sun shines down on her face till her milky brow turns red and she is comforted in winter, not by silks, but rugged wool. She finds, and knows, worldly, rough-cut men as they find her, not with pettycoats and dowries but work and words and woe. The world is beautiful and ugly as the men and women in it. We are such ones—both vivid and flawed as the rest but to know it in its fullness we must fly this golden cage.
BIANCA
So?
CATERINA
We will know what man wants when we know what man is.
BIANCA
(After staring for a moment in disbelief) Have you read of Africa? You are brained as the monkeys there! They seem, at first, possessed by sense, as knowing as a boy, and almost speak but then suddenly they fly from branch to branch with yelping, senseless cries. I would know the monkey before the man.
CATERINA
You will not come with me?
BIANCA
Where?
CATERINA
Away…anywhere…
BIANCA
To escape these jabbering suitors?
CATERINA
Forever and a day!
BIANCA
Of course, I’ll come with you!
CATERINA
Then we must design a little plot…but, soft, comes now Constanza. We will cast and angle for her thoughts.
BIANCA
…and then, when comes Tempesta, for her tongue.
(CONSTANZA bustles into the room from stage right. She too is dressed for bed in a white nightgown and an odd-fitting sleeping cap. She fairly bubbles with news.)
CONSTANZA
(Gesturing) Girls, girls, my dearest daughters, gather ‘round.
CATERINA
(In a bored tone) We are gathered, mother.
CONSTANZA
Your father–your sainted father Tempesta–who loves and cares for you so well, has been named Commendador to the Duke of Milan!
BIANCA
What bodes this news?
CONSTANZA
Tempesta is ennobled!
(BIANCA and CATERINA look at each other in puzzlement. CONSTANZA takes a seat next to her daughters.)
CONSTANZA
You—my precious daughters—are now two noblewomen of Croessus! Be proud of brash Tempesta as he is proud of you!
CATERINA
Father preferred boys.
BIANCA
And you bore him us.
CATERINA
That is why we ride.
BIANCA
And fence.
CATERINA
With verve and skill that shame benighted boys of Croessus.
CONSTANZA
Caterina, do not be unfeminine!
CATERINA
I would have it no other way!
CONSTANZA
Your father loves you well, as do your suitors.
BIANCA
(Looks at Caterina) In fields of Croessus, the cows grow fatter by the day.
CONSTANZA
Cows? What cows are these? (Caterina points to herself and then to Bianca but their mother doesn’t seem to notice) We possess no cows in Croessus but only wool and the sheep to shed it.
BIANCA
(To her sister) Pinch me.
(CATERINA pinches her sister)
BIANCA
It feels the same as before.
CONSTANZA
Dearest daughers, you’ve no idea what this means?
CATERINA
We do.
BIANCA
A bigger dowry.
CONSTANZA
Your father will be happy–or as happy as before–to pay it.
BIANCA
But we will not.
CATERINA
We are not for sale!
BIANCA
Noblewomen or no.
CATERINA
We are not for sale.
BIANCA
Like goats or sheep at a public square.
CATERINA
Though the square be hung in gold.
BIANCA
For sale, we are not!
CONSTANZA
The suitors come tomorrow!
CATERINA
Let them suit themselves.
BIANCA
We shall not be in attendance.
CONSTANZA
What? Where will you be? What shall we tell them? What shall we tell your father?
BIANCA
Soft! He comes within!
CATERINA
(Speaking quickly into Constanza’s ear) They are, Mother, as ones unsuited, every one. I lament it! There is not a worthy man in Croessus.
BIANCA
For girls as ‘noble’ as ourselves.
CONSTANZA
I see. But what will father say?
CATERINA
I know words will pursuade him.
(TEMPESTA enters from stage right. His stride is firm, his jaw set. He scowls. The newest Commendador of Croessus and Milan is dressed in an elegant robe and wears a colorful sleeping cap. His daughters stand as he enters, then flank him from behind as he takes his place on the high-backed chair. CONSTANZA sits to his side, half facing her husband. The girls continue standing.)
BIANCA
Congratulations, father!
CATERINA
Here! Here!
TEMPESTA
(Frowning) For what are these words?
CONSTANZA
I have told them of your appointment as Commendador.
TEMPESTA
A trifle. I care nothing for such honors.
(CONSTANZA begins to speak but CATERINA signals for her to yield.)
CATERINA
But it is a signal honor, father. For what is it conferred?
(TEMPESTA, even more irritated than before, gestures, rolls his eyes and mumbles.)
CONSTANZA
Your father is known as Patron of the Arts. No artist need starve in blesséd Croessus.
TEMPESTA
I don’t care a whit for Croessus and her starving artists. Let them eat dust of the wretched statues they hack at day and night. Nudes! What interest do they serve? Purile and prurient! Let them frequent the brothels, and not our stately homes. A brothel may serve a tasty dish where a statue’s cold and raw.
CATERINA
But you harbor their statues in your home?
TEMPESTA
For others to gawk at! Such is needful in the trade. They must point and gawk to know Tempesta’s grandure, and that of his noble daughters. I comment every detail but one—the price! Leave them guessing!
BIANCA
Speaking of brothels…
TEMPESTA
I will speak not of them again.
CATERINA
Suitors will again assemble on the morrow.
TEMPESTA
They will, young, insipid and ill-bred as they are.
CATERINA
Well spoken, father!
TEMPESTA
What? A daughter of mine agrees with her father? And on the subject of men?
CATERINA
I do.
TEMPESTA
Women! They are a limitless source of wonder. I love them as I love the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary and pray on them every day.
(BIANCA begins to speak but CATERINA signals for her to yield.)
CATERINA
The problem, father, goes well beyond ‘insipid’ or ‘ill bred.’
(CONSTANZA leans forward, suddenly worried.)
TEMPESTA
What do you mean?
CATERINA
They design to play games, sir.
TEMPESTA
And do you not sport with them?
CATERINA
We do…
BIANCA
…and best them at riding, rackets and rapiers…
CATERINA
…at which they insist…
BIANCA
…on dungeons, doctors and donkeys!
(CONSTANZA cries in shock and disbelief.)
CATERINA
Daily, they scratch and paw at young Bianca here.
BIANCA
It is why I cringe at talk of brothels.
CONSTANZA
(Horrified) We must send them away at once!
TEMPESTA
Send them away? No! Have them come, and upon the morrow, so I may trump and whip them! They’ll know Tempesta’s heft better than their fathers’!
CONSTANZA
No, my Lord, not the suitors, our girls!
TEMPESTA
Send them away? But where?
(The entire party is momentarily speechless.)
CONSTANZA
Milan!
(CATERINA wags her finger at her mother and mouths the word ‘no’)
CONSTANZA
No. Twould be much the same as here.
TEMPESTA
My friend’s the Doge of Venice. He could take them in…
(Both CATERINA and BIANCA wag their fingers vehemently.)
CONSTANZA
…and never let them go. The Doge himself’s a prisoner in his palace.
TEMPESTA
(Turning behind him to look at his daughters) You could visit your uncle, my brother Modesta.
CATERINA
I can hardly recall him.
BIANCA
And I not at all.
CONSTANZA
He doesn’t travel much.
TEMPESTA
He doesn’t travel at all. He goes only when invited…and he’s no longer invited.
CATERINA
Where does he live?
TEMPESTA
Lodi. Dear, dirty Lodi, the poorest town in Lombardy.
(CATERINA and BIANCA look at each other and nod.)
CATERINA
Let it be so, then!
TEMPESTA
Lodi?
CATERINA and BIANCA
Lodi!
TEMPESTA
It is settled then. (Turning again to his daughters) To bed with you! And leave your sordid suitors to me.
CATERINA
We shall!
BIANCA
And good riddance.
(CONSTANZA motions for the girls to kiss their father. They advance on him, one from each side. He grimaces as they air kiss his cheeks.)
(Blackout)
END OF SCENE
Photo credit: Maria of Brabant Marriage (British Library)