Francesca: a play in verse

By David Wisehart

ACT ONE, SCENE 2

Castle Verucchio. GIOVANNI broods alone. He is hunchbacked, crippled, with a hideous scar across his face. Enter PAOLO, young and handsome.

PAOLO:  Giovanni! You look well, brother.
GIOVANNI:                                                  You lie
            Well, brother.
PAOLO:                     A battle scar is a mark
            Of honor. It makes you handsomer. Why,
            It adds distinction, color—
GIOVANNI:                                    I am stark,
            And know it well.
PAOLO:                            You still have one good eye.
GIOVANNI:  And far too many mirrors.
PAOLO:                                                 Why so dark?
GIOVANNI:  I am no lover of the light. Unless
            It is the light of truth.
PAOLO:                                You evanesce
            In shadows.  
GIOVANNI:              Shadows comfort me. In truth,
            Paolo, I'm closer now to dusk than dawn.
            I'm old. I'm short of wind and long of tooth.
PAOLO:  Not old.
GIOVANNI:           Yes, old.
PAOLO:                                No doubt you'll soldier on.
GIOVANNI:  I do not have your looks, your wit, your youth.
            Girls gaze on you and see a paragon.
PAOLO:  God granted me some graces.
GIOVANNI:                                              You are rife
            With charms. I need them now, to buy a wife.
PAOLO:  You have your charms.
GIOVANNI:                                   I'm ugly.
PAOLO:                                                       You're distraught.
GIOVANNI:  Deformed! Defiled! Defaced! Do not defend.
PAOLO:  You are betrothed already, are you not?
GIOVANNI:  She wants to see me first. I thought to send
            You in my place.
PAOLO:                           But why? What for? You ought
            To meet this girl yourself.
GIOVANNI:                                   You are to wend
            Your way to Francesca's house. Win her heart
            With words of your devising. Love's an art
            That you know well.
PAOLO:                                Intimately.
GIOVANNI:                                            Romance
            Her till she dances to your tune. Consort
            With her, dally in her gardens, enhance
            Her mood with flowers, songs, and other court
            Contrivances, as you see fit.
PAOLO:                                              A glance
            Is all I need to win a lady, thwart
            Her chastity—
GIOVANNI:                  But you will do it masked.
            (Gives Paolo a mask.)
            And give my name for yours when you are asked.
PAOLO:  But I am hardly equal to your name.
            To claim your deeds as mine would be a ruse
            Unworthy of a brother. You have fame
            To match your fearsome face.
GIOVANNI:                                          Do not refuse
            Me this.
PAOLO:             Do not refuse yourself. No shame
            In battle scars, these scars that disabuse
            False courage, fill our enemies with dread—
GIOVANNI:  And send fair maidens fleeing from my bed.
PAOLO:  Giovanni, brother, listen to me now.
            You are that prince who rose above the rest,
            Who did not ever bend, nor break, nor bow.
            Your gifts are manifold, and manifest.
            And there are graces God may yet endow—
            A wife! I know your grief, but you are blessed.
            You are a force of nature. You should flaunt.
            You can have any woman that you want.
GIOVANNI:  Fine words. You always know the words to say.
            Now, brother, make them deeds to my endeavor.
            I'm ill-equipped for battle. In this fray,
            I need an able marksman—keen, calm, clever.
            Love is a war that's won with words. You'll sway
            Her, Paolo. Win her for me.
PAOLO:                                             I could never
            Fill your shoes.
GIOVANNI:                   Keep your shoes and take my place.
            Go forth, and give my heart a better face.
(Paolo puts on the mask. Blackout.)

Francesca: a play in verse © 2007 by David Wisehart.  All Rights Reserved.



See Valentino: a play in verse the Hollywood Fringe Festival.