Part 2 (2/2)

Give me the hot crag and the dancing heat, Give me the Abruzzi, and the cus.h.i.+oned thyme-- Brooks at my feet, high glittering snows above.

What were thy music, viol, without a ridge?

[_Noise of commotion in the city below._

_Cesario_. Watchman, what news?

_A Voice_. Sir, on the sea no sail!

_One of the Crowd_. But through the town below a horseman spurs-- I think, Count Lucio! Yes--Count Lucio!

He nears, draws rein, dismounts!

_Cesario_. Sure, he brings news.

_Gamba_. I think he brings word the Duke is sick; his loyal folk have drunk so much of his health.

[_A murmur has been growing in the town below. It breaks into cheers as Count Lucio comes springing up to the terrace._

_Enter Lucio._

_Lucio._ News! Where's the Regent? Eh? is Ma.s.s not said?

Cesario, news! I rode across the dunes; A pilot--Nestore--you know the man-- Came panting. Sixteen sail beyond the point!

That's not a galley lost!

_Crowd._ Long live the Duke!

_Lucio._ Hark to the tocsin! I have carried fire-- Wildfire! Why, where's my sister? I've a mind--

[_He strides towards the door of the Chapel; but pauses at the sound of chanting within, and comes back to Cesario._

Man, are you mute? I say the town's aflame Below! But here, up here, you stand and stare Like prisoners loosed to daylight. Rub your eyes, Believe!

_Cesario (musing)._ It has been long.

_Lucio._ As tapestry p.r.i.c.ked out by women's needles; point-device As saints in fitted haloes. Yet they stab, Those needles. Oh, the devil take their tongues!

_Cesario._ Why, what's the matter?

_Lucio._ P'st! another lie Against the Countess Fulvia; and the train Laid to my sister's ear. Cesario, My sister is a saint--and yet she married: Therefore should understand ... Would saints, like cobblers, Stick but to business in this naughty world!

Ah, well! the Duke comes home.

_Cesario._ And what of that?

_Lucio._ Release!

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