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Thomas Falstaff
Mariella is speaking happily with the Duke, her father, her delight at how the day’s events have gone apparent in her eyes. Thomas catches those eyes with his own and his face brightens with the smile that he has practiced for just this occasion. The young woman whom he is soon to marry smiles in return. That her devotion to him is clear for all to see pleases Thomas as it can only serve to secure his own position and that it is perceived that his own devotion to young Mariella is equally strong has made this day and this evening a true success. Turning once more to his father, he exchanges a knowing glance with the elder Falstaff who has instructed him so well in the art of giving the proper appearance of unfeigned affection. As surely as young Mariella is smitten with Thomas, just as surely shall her doting father soon be a ready puppet in their hands.
Still there is an undercurrent of potential trouble which must be addressed. “I have still heard nothing from my sources other than the same vague warnings of plots against your life,” the elder Falstaff says quietly.
“Then either there is no danger at all or our opponent knows us well to have left so little information for you to discover.”
“My thoughts exactly. Still, I am quite pleased with the performance of the bodyguards we have emloyed.”
“Yes, father, and judging by the ease with which they have blended into the gathered nobility here they look to have much potential for future employment in our service.”
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