Part 69 (2/2)

(_Exit_ Marinelli.)

Scene VII.

Orsina, Odoardo.

ORSINA (_after a pause, during which she has surveyed_ Odoardo _with a look of compa.s.sion, while he has cast towards her a glance of curiosity_).

Alas! What did he say to you, unfortunate man?

ODOARDO (_half aside_).

Unfortunate!

ORSINA.

Truth it certainly was not--at least, not one of those sad truths which await you.

ODOARDO.

Which await me? Do I, then, not know enough? Madam--but proceed, proceed.

ORSINA.

You know nothing?

ODOARDO.

Nothing.

ORSINA.

Worthy father! What would I give that you were my father! Pardon me.

The unfortunate so willingly a.s.sociate together. I would faithfully share your sorrows--and your anger.

ODOARDO.

Sorrows and anger? Madam--but I forget--go on.

ORSINA.

Should she even be your only daughter--your only child--but it matters not. An unfortunate child is ever an only one.

ODOARDO.

Unfortunate?--Madam! But why do I attend to her? And yet, by Heaven, no lunatic speaks thus.

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