Addio, cara fanciulla! Addio, mia diletta! Arrivederci domani! Iniziamo una vita nuova!… Una vita felice!… Phew! Is everyone gone?… Let’s get going. Just the mask, quickly. It’s a nice mask, familiar, Venetian style, white silk: let it cover my face as it has so often done at difficult and dangerous moments in my life. One more glance in the mirror… the beauty patch has slipped a little, a touch more red needed for the lips, smooth the eyebrows, and just a pinch of candle soot, the merest dab under the eyes…. Yes, perfect! The greatcoat will cover me as I make my way across the street. How the snow is falling! Mind your voice, Giacomo, speak with your fan and your eyes only if at all possible! Everything is in place, yes, the cold chicken, the butter on fresh snow, the wine in the engraved decanter, the roses in the marble basket, there’s attar of roses on the pillow, the curtains of the bed are closed…. I think that should be all, yes. Perhaps one more log on the fire… something is missing? I can’t think what it is. What was it, something important I mustn’t forget… something more important than roses, wine, ambergris, or the roast ham…. Oh, I know. The dagger! Into my bosom with you, faithful companion. Into my bosom, under the bodice, down among the feathers: an excellent costume. Only a woman could hide a dagger in such a place, and it certainly gives you confidence knowing there is a dagger just above your heart. It’s much the best way of setting forth on an engagement!… I don’t think I have forgotten anything. So get going. Wait… what is it now? Why aren’t you on your way? You are alone. Check the mirror. The costume is excellent, everybody and everything is in place, a few more moments and the performance can begin according to the agreement, according to the rules you discussed with the duke of Parma. Why are you hanging back? Why is your heart beating so loudly? What is this feeling that has taken possession of you, grips your heart, and makes you indecisive, so you hesitate here with a dagger in your bosom, a mask on your face, and a fan in your hand…. What is happening to you, Giacomo? Acrobats suffer the same sense of dizziness when they look down on the crowd from the top of a human pyramid, seeking a familiar pair of eyes in the audience…. What unsettles you, what is it you are trying to remember? Hush, restless heart, stop this drumming. It is love you are afraid of, yes it is… you fear the emotion that binds, as the duke of Parma realized in his agony, in his increasing need, he who knows you all too welclass="underline" it is this feeling that you fear, that casts its shadow across your path, it is the feeling you have fled ever since childhood. Don’t be afraid, poor fool. You can overcome it. Don’t be afraid. There is no feeling that can take complete control of you: you may suffer a few days of grief, but after a week or so of discomfort, you will find your way to the card table, or set to entertaining people the way they have always liked being entertained, playing your part in the human comedy, laughing or being laughed at, swindling or being swindled… and so the memory will fade. It won’t kill you, no fear of that. Come the morning, you will abscond with the kitchen maid as you have done before, and will again, no doubt, in the future. There is nothing you can do about it. Let us do it without sentimentality or fear. The teardrop you are shedding will smudge the makeup on your face and your beauty patch will come unstuck… but I am not afraid of a teardrop or two. I must see you…. It is a beautiful letter. I don’t think I have ever received lovelier. Yes, this woman and I are fated to be linked in some fashion, in a different sort of way, by a different power, a different desire. She herself cannot prevent that. So set about your task, comedian. Stand up straight, throw the cloak across your shoulder, put on your mask…. How silent it is. There’s only the moaning of the wind. Off to the ball with you, attend to your worldly business, follow your fate, be firm, be level-headed. Who is there?…