 | Fazio |  |
Scene IV.
—Fazio's House.Enter Fazio with his sack, which he opens and surveys.
I thank ye, bounteous thieves! most liberal thieves!
Your daggers are my worship. Have ye leap'd
The broad and sharp-staked trenches of the law,
Mock'd at the deep damnation that attaints
The souls of murderers, for my hands unbloodied,
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To pluck the golden fruitage? Oh, I thank ye,
Will chronicle ye, my good friends and true.
Enter Bianca. (Fazio conceals the Treasure.)
Bianca.
Nay, Fazio, nay: this is too much: nay, Fazio,
I'll not be humour'd like a froward child,
Trick'd into sleep with pretty tuneful tales.
Fazio.
We feast the Duke to-morrow: shall it be
In the Adorni or Vitelli palace?
They're both on sale, and each is fair and lofty.
Bianca.
Why, Fazio, art thou frantic? Nay, look not
So strangely, so unmeaningly. I had rather
That thou would'st weep, than look so haggard joyful.
Fazio.
Aye, and a glorious banquet it shall be:
Gay servants in as proud caparisons,
As though they served immortal Gods with nectar.
Aye, aye, Bianca! there shall be a princess;
She shall be lady of the feast. Let's see
Your gold and crimson for your fair-hair'd beauties:—
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The princess that I mean? Dost thou, Bianca?
Bianca.
Nay, if thou still wilt flout me, I'll not weep:
Thou shalt not have the pitiful bad pleasure
Of wringing me to misery. I'll be cold
And patient as a statue of my wrongs.
Fazio.
I have just thought, Bianca, these black stills
An ugly and ill-fitting furniture:
We'll try an' they are brittle. (Dashes them in pieces.)
I'll have gilding,
Nothing but gilding, nothing but what looks glittering:
I'm sick of black and dingy darkness. Here,
(Uncovering the sack,)
Look here, Bianca, here's a light! Take care:
Thine eyesight is too weak for such a blaze.
It is not daylight; nay, it is not morn—
And every one is worth a thousand florins.
Who shall be princess of the feast to-morrow?
[She bursts into tears.
Within, within, I'll tell thee all within.
[Exeunt.
| Fazio | |