Chapter IV
Reading edition
Every woman then and there in the market-place was full of it, and crowded about each other to hear and receive the news. “Did you ever!”—“Oh! quite true!”—“Who would have thought it, you know?”—“Yes but who told you?”—“Hush! not so loud.”—“It’s a secret.”—“Oh, of course!”—cried twenty voices at least. “Because, I heard it from the young grocer (She always hears every thing from the young grocer) who heard it from the mercer, who had it from the lawyer himself; and so you know then it is.”—“Oh, of course; well, I’m sure I should never have thought it.”—“And such a fortune.”—“Why, he’s the richest man in the parish.”—“I wish I had a rich old uncle.”—“Yes, and he never went to see him.”—“All through that Adina.”—“Eugh!”—“There he is!” (Twenty voices again.)
“He” was Nemorino. “He” had run to the doctor, who again fraudulently appropriated the crowns; again “he” had imbibed the elixir of love, and this time he really hoped the elixir would have some effect.
“How humble he looks.”
“He don’t know his good fortune yet.”
“Good evening to your curls, Nemorino,” said one.
“Good evening, and a curtsey to your heart, Nemorino,” cried another.
“Good evening, and a smile, Nemorino,” exclaimed a third.
“Your humble servant, signor,” said a mean fourth.
“The Elixir!”
“You’ll forget your old playmates now, signor.”
“Oh! no, Nemorino is too amiable.”
“Your humble servant, signor.”
“The Elixir.”
Here two persons coming stopped in the utmost wonder to see Nemorino, the rustic, in the midst of a group of girls. One person was the enormous Doctor Dulcamara, and the other person was the far from enormous Adina.
“Bless me!” said Adina to herself Nemorino ran up to the doctor, and whispered—“You were right, the elixir this time was stronger.”
“Can ... I ... believe ... my ... senses?” exclaimed Dulcamara. Then he said to the women—“Does he please you?”
“The insolence of that doctor!” all the girls seemed to say with their little noses in the air.
“Can—I—believe. Am I the proprietor of the love philtre?” For we may tell lies till we actually believe them ourselves.
“Well,” thought the rustic to himself, “if every girl loves me, she ought.”
“And I thought to find him in tears, and if he still loved me, he would be,” thought Adina.
“You’ll dance, Nemorino.”
“Yes, Gianetta, with you.”
“With me, your humble obedient servant, signor, too.”
“Yes, yes.”
“With you, indeed! Ah, ah. Very good.” And here the pretty noses were brought into action again.
“Can—I—bel—. I DON’T.”
“Ne—ne—ne—ne—mo—ri—no!”
“The Elixir. She comes!”
“Can—I—I CAN’T,” said the doctor.
“So, for a few poor crowns, you’ve become soldier, Nemorino. I must speak to you,” said Adina.
“Nemorino!”
“Well, Gianetta.”
“Hark! there’s the music. And you know you promised me.”
“True, true, I’m coming. I’ll hear you presently, Adina. Coming, Gianetta, coming.”
Scene—a despairing little woman pressing her little hands one within the other. And whether anybody is there she cares not, as she says in a whisper, “I love him, I do love him.”
Says Doctor Dulcamara. “Can—I—DO believe my senses. Ah, ah! I’m a gold mine. I’m a Crœsus!”
“Ah, ah, ah!” cried a quick, sharp voice, the personal property of Gianetta in fact. And as she went off to the dance, audacious with Nemorino. “Ah, ah, ah, she thinks she’s to have the homage of all the men in the village, but she WONT.”
“She” heard the remark, but it did not make her angry.
“How cruel, how cruel!”
“Ah! all my doings.”
“Yours, doctor.”
“Yes, I have Queen Isotta’s love secret!”
“Queen—n—Isotta’s! I won’t believe it. And you gave it to Nemorino!”
“Oh, yes. To try it on some cruel fair, who would have naught to say to him.”
“Ah, then he was in love with—some one.”
“Yes, the poor fellow; and to get money for Queen Isotta’s secret, he enlisted.”
“The poor youth!”
“’Tis my impression she would buy elixir herself,” said the doctor to himself.
“And now, Nemorino is fortunate in love?”
“There’s not a girl but—here, just look at them. This way!”
“And who is he in love with?”
“Faith, I know not, but they are all in love with him.”
“And once I know he only loved me.”
“The elixir is not dear. Think! you might have a hundred lovers at your feet!”
“I’d not know what to do with them. I—I only wish but one.”
“And every woman in the place would hate you.”
“What are they to me!”
“Or if you’d marry a rich man.”
“I’m rich enough already.”
“A count, a marquis.”
“Good, if named Nemorino.”
“And my philtre!”
“You may swallow it yourself.”
“I rather think Adina knows a good deal more than I. But I also think Adina for all girls don’t reply.”
“He shall come back to me,” said the little woman to herself, “he shall, he shall! A look, a smile, a little frown, and he is at my feet. For I have the elixir, here, in my face, here, in my eyes.”
And away she went to find Nemorino. If she had only looked behind her now. For there he was; and as she fluttered away, he came a few steps forward.
As a clear evidence how fond he was of her in this, that he was sorry he had gone away with Gianetta, perchance the mercenary. Indeed, he thought he had marked a furtive tear or so in Adina’s eyes; and, very softly, he thought to—
“O, Nemorino! what, left the dancing?”
“Yes, I was tired.”
“What, and left Gianetta?”
“Yes; for I was tired of her, too. You see, when a poor youth is loved by all the girls, he need not care for one only. Heigho! they all want to marry.”
“Well, they can’t all marry you; and what do you say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Now listen to me,” said the maiden, coming up close to him.
“Well, Adina (she’s going to confess.)”
“Why—why are you going to leave us? Why are you going away for a soldier?”
“Going to seek my fortune, Adina.”
“But—but we all like you here. And—and we should all be so sorry to part with you. And—and” (here the little right hand went to the little natty apron-pocket, and brought out a paper.) “And—and I’ve bought your discharge.”
“Ha! you love me!”
“Love you? We all love you—like you. There, take the paper. And pray keep amongst us. I dare say you will find somebody you can fall head over ears in love with; for I’m sure we all like you. Good bye.”
“But this isn’t confessing!”
“Good bye, Nemorino.”
“But—but you’re not going like that!”
“Why, what more can you want? you have your discharge. Good bye, Nemorino.”
“Oh, good bye; only you have forgotten something.”
“Indeed—what?”
“The discharge. Take it. I shall remain a soldier. For the doctor has deceived me; and—and—God bless you, and good bye, Adina.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no. He has not deceived you. I—I want to make you as happy as I have made you wretched. I—I know you love me, and—and I love you with all my heart!”
“The Elixir!”
“Hi! hi! hi! what’s this? what’s this? Can Sergeant Belcore believe his handsome eyes!”
“If he can’t, he must believe Adina’s tongue. My husband, Sergeant Belcore.”
“Your husband, ma’am; your husband! Keep him. Sergeant Belcore won’t break his heart for one woman.”
“Ah! but one Sergeant Belcore would break the hearts of a thousand women. Let him buy the elixir of love, ten crowns a bottle. I, Doctor Dulcamara, only sell it. Who subdued the sweet Adina? I, Doctor Dulcamara, did!”
“Cursed mountebank! may you and your coach fall into the next ditch.”
“He! he! he! she only marries him because his rich uncle is dead.” This was the malicious remark of Gianetta.
For one moment Adina drew away.
The next moment Nemorino drew closer to Adina.
Adina did not withdraw.
“And pray, who made him die?”
“Why, rustics all, ’twas I.”
“Oh! listen, rustics, listen, if either has an uncle, Almost dead with—say lumbago, phythsics, or carbuncle, I’ll kill him, or I’ll cure him, precisely as you say; But this way, or the other, my friends, you’ll have to pay,
“I, present, now, Who make this bow, Am Doctor Dulcamara. In France I’m known, I’m famed alone, In Venice and Ferrara Such things I’ve done, That more than one, Have said I am—no matter; But this I know, Where’er I go, I make no little clatter.
“Oh, rustics, rustics, rustics, if e’er you would grow fat, To purchase these my bottles ’tis the best thing to be at, Women—ye maidens who’d in the waist be thin, Try one bottle; ’tis far better than lacing yourselves in.
“You soldiers, there, Who court the fair, I pray you make one trial. Why, sure as fate, Sure as I’m great, You’ll ignore the word denial Thank you; and you, Four crowns, ’twill do. I am great Dulcamara, But two? take three! Cash hand to me! I’m famed in Carrara.
“Oh, every one, or old, or young, or you of middle age, To do all things—I don’t care what—I doctor do engage. Grow rich, grow poor, grow young, grow old, I’m Doctor Dulcamara, Famed north, famed south, and as I’ve said, I think, in far Carrara.
“You want a head; No sooner said, Than done—if I’m your doctor. Your skin, I ween, I’ll color green Or make you look a Chocktaw. But mind you all, Both great and small, Don’t draw away afraid, oh! The money bring For every thing, Dulcamara must be paid, oh!”
And after this happy conclusion, who shall say there is not some virtue in the Elixir of Love.