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[ANTONIO POPPI and NELLA, two Venetian servants, with a touch
of the picturesque in their attire, are engaged in clearing the
NELLA. [Turning her head.] Ascolta! (Listen!)
ANTONIO. Una gondola allo scalo. (A gondala at our steps.)[They open
the centre-window, go out on to the balcony, and look down below.] La
Signora Thorpe. (The Signora Thorpe.)
NELLO. Con suo fratello. (With her brother.)
ANTONIO. [Calling.] Buon di, Signor Winterfield! Iddio la benedica!
[Good day, Signor Winterfield! The blessing of God be upon you!]
NELLA. [Calling.] Buon di, Signora! La Madonna Passista! (Good day,
Signora! May the Virgin have you in her keeping!)
ANTONIO. [Returning to the room.] Noi siamo in ritardo di tutto questa
mattina. (We are behindhand with everything this morning.)
NELLA. [Following him.] E vero. (That is true.)
ANTONIO. [Bustling about.] La stufa! (The stove!)
NELLA. [Throwing wood into the stove.] Che tua sia benedetta per
rammentarmelo! Questi Inglesi non si contentono del sole. (Bless you
for remembering it. These English are not content with the sun.)
[Leaving only a vase of flowers upon the table, they hurry out with the
breakfast things. At the same moment, FORTUNE, a manservant, enters,
showing in MRS. THORPE and the REV. AMOS WINTERFIELD. GERTRUDE THORPE
is a pretty, frank-looking young woman of about seven and twenty. She
is in mourning, and has sorrowful eyes and a complexion that is too
delicate, but natural cheerfulness and brightness are seen through all.
AMOS is about forty--big, burly, gruff; he is untidily dressed, and
has a pipe in his hand. FORTUNE is carrying a pair of freshly-cleaned
tan-coloured boots upon boot-trees.]
GERTRUDE. Now, Fortune, you ought to have told us downstairs that Dr.
Kirke is with Mrs. Cleeve.
AMOS. Come away, Gerty. Mrs. Cleeve can't want to be bored with us just
FORTUNE. Mrs. Cleeve give 'er ordares she is always to be bored wiz
Madame Thorpe and Mr. Winterfield.
AMOS. Ha, Ha!
GERTRUDE. [Smiling.] Fortune!
FORTUNE. Besides, ze doctares vill go in 'alf a minute, you see.
AMOS. What, is there another doctor with Dr. Kirke?
FORTUNE. Ze great physician, Sir Brodrick.
GERTRUDE. Sir George Brodrick? Amos!
AMOS. Doesn't Mr. Cleeve feel so well?
FORTUNE. Oh, yes. But Mrs. Cleeve 'appen to read in a newspapare zat
Sir George Brodrick vas in Florence for ze Paque--ze Eastare. Sir
Brodrick vas Mr. Cleeve's doctor in London, Mrs. Cleeve tell me, so'e
is acquainted wiz Mr. Cleeve's inside.
AMOS. Ho, ho!
GERTRUDE. Mr. Cleeve's constitution, Fortune.
FORTUNE. Excuse, madame. Zerefore Mrs. Cleeve she telegraph for Sir
Brodrick to come to Venise.
AMOS. To consult with Dr. Kirke, I suppose.
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