PERGOLESI

THE MAID PROMOTED (La Serva Padrona)

(one act, cast of two, SB, with mute)

Uberto, master of the house, is upset with his servant Serpina:

UBERTO:

All gone haywire, a sorry state!

Pampered servants forever late.

I’m the master, yet still I wait.

Days like this will drive me crazy,

Drive me crazy.

Haggard, harried, round in circles,

Plans miscaried --

A sorry state, already late,

And still I wait . . .

From bad to worse:

UBERTO:

All helter-skelter,

My house a zoo,

Because of you.

A tangled knot,

I’m in the stew

And on the spot,

Without a place to run for shelter.

Oh, don’t pretend

That things will mend:

This game must end . . .

Though now a tragedy of tears and woe,

You’ll come to see

That it has to be.

Whether right or wrong,

I must be strong:

You’ve got to go.

Serpina is unfazed. Far from cowed, she forbids him to go out for a walk.

SERPINA:

So absurdly peevish and petty!

My point I have made already.

Why, why, why do you stand there balking?.

No, no, no, you will not go walking!

See here, that sneer is baffling.

My dear, remember

To curb your temper.

Yet, yet Serpina says no, no.

Sit, sit! I say you’re not to go.

You scowl, you growl, you grumble.

Poor me! So meek, so humble.

Sit, sit! I have no time for talking.

See here, that sneer is baffling.

My goodness gracious!

Why so pugnacious?

Tut, tut! Serpina says no, no,

Although I might say yes if

Your tone were less aggressive,

Before your mighty power

Am I to cringe and cower? . . .

When Uberto sees that matrimony is his only possible escape, Serpina whole-heartedly agrees. Only the bride must be . . . herself:

SERPINA:

Why not say it and display it,

For your eyes give invitation?

Slyly, fondly smiling,

Not unwilling!

Oh, your tongue would tell me no, no, no,

But your eyes say otherwise.

Yes, yes, yes, yes,

That is what your eyes express.

UBERTO:

Have you heard it?

How absurd, it

Is your wild imagination.

Never, never, never

Is the only way to word it.

Tongue & lips & eyes say no,

And they shout fortissimo.

Yes, yes, yes, yes,

Shoot me if I acquiesce . . .

SERPINA:

No, no. No, no.

I insist, why resist?

It is time that I be kissed.

Learn at last what you have missed.

UBERTO:

I’m in terror.

SERPINA:

Ah, my dear, what’s to fear?

Stars auspicious, time propitious,

Love’s delicious . . .

UBERTO:

(I begin with chagrin

To suspect that she will win.

Apropos, no, no, no!

I prefer the status quo . . .)

SERPINA:

(He’s relenting, ha, ha!

Lose or win, do give in!

Love is not a mortal sin.)

UBERTO:

(Caving in, caving in,

Must I take it on the chin?)

SERPINA:

Love’s bewitching, yes, yes!

UBERTO:

I’m not switching, no, no!

SERPINA:

Forever, forever, forever!

No more delay, today’s the day!

UBERTO:

No, never! No, never! No, never!

We must delay. No, not today!

Unexpectly resigned, or so it would seem, Serpina tearfully says farewell:

SERPINA:

Your Serpina then recalling,

Then recalling,

Think of her in the twilight falling.

Come December, you’ll remember

Your little jewel.

Fate, oh so cruel!

Those days so dear,

Now gone forever!

Those days recall

And shed a tear.

(Aha! If I’m not mistaken,

He is shaken by regret.

He’ll awaken, ha!

Overtaken, ha!

Caught in love’s alluring net.)

The prospect of losing Serpina has an extraordinary effect on Uberto:

UBERTO:

I feel a deadly fright,

A sudden loss of appetite;

No telling day from night.

No more can I deny it.

My heart will not stay quiet.

Elation

Entrancing, yet galling,

And not unlike despair.

An inner voice is calling,

Is calling for caution:

Uberto, oh beware! Oh beware!

I would and yet would not.

The wind blows cold and hot.

I’m torn this way and that;

So back and forth, now yes, then no,

I’m tossing to and fro.

The wind blows cold and hot.

I would and yet would not.

Few will be surprised at the outcome:

SERPINA:

A silver bell is ringing

As if my heart were singing

Of new awakening.

And with a sound of spring,

Such pleasure does it bring,

Like flowers blossoming.

UBERTO:

I hear a steady drumming

Like tread of army coming,

A pandemonium

Of sweet delirium.

Defenceless, I succomb

And find Elysium . . .

BOTH:

What’s this we are singing of?

Call it a dream come true.

Yes, yes, it’s tender, precious love.

Yes, yes, the dear, delicious love,

The love that’s all for you!