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Scene I.

A Quay in front of the Palazzo Malespina at Palermo.—Spadone, Boatswain, and Mate.
Spadone.

When your Marquis turns merchant, see you
the way of it! No sailing orders, and as much gone in
demurrage as would buy a cargo.


Boatswain.

West-South-West! as I'm a living soul,
and as merry a breeze as ever gave a big belly to the
fore-topsail! Our chaplain on board the Rombola used
to say that there were seven cardinal sins in sea-divinity,
and the worst of them was to keep a fair wind waiting.


Spadone.

And a cargo too that longs for us. When we
reach Rhodes, we shall take such a treasure of jewels and
ingots aboard as the good ship never lodged before.


Mate.

Gold and jewels is a good cargo; for 'tis they
that bring a man fair weather in this world.



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Spadone.

'Tis a cargo would buy fair weather for us
three for the rest of our lives. But we'll talk of that
aboard. Go thou, Antonio, and get me my orders.


Mate.

Where shall I find you?



Spadone.

In the catacombs. Thou knowest the cavern
where we hid those silks we brought from Genoa. Aretina
is to meet me there.


Mate.

There, then, I will seek thee.


Spadone.

But take heed to thy steps; for the worthy
Noah's forefathers that lived in the bowels of the earth
were men of crooked ways and their paths are hard to
hit. Go aboard, boatswain, and get the water stowed.
We shall surely sail to-night.


[Exeunt.
Enter Gerbetto and Fra Martino.
Gerbetto.
I ever found your counsel wise and sure.
One thousand ducats are well nigh mine all;
The earnings of a life of infinite toil.

Fra Martino.
The Marquis should disperse them in a day
And think the ducats and the day well spent.
And as for means of payment, you should know
The lands of Malespina stand impledged
For what he owes Count Ugo.

Gerbetto.
From his birth
I have denied him nothing; almost loved

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The wants that sent him to me, hoping still
That as he grew to ripeness, what was soft
Would harden in him, what was hard would soften;
For he was of a sweet and liberal nature.
But lending this to lose it, robs my child,
My poor Lisana, of that little store
I gather'd for her dowry.

Fra Martino.
For what end?
Not for his good,—be wiser than to think it.
Give thou to no man, if thou wish him well,
What he may not in honour's interest take:
Else shalt thou but befriend his faults, allied
Against his better with his baser self.

Gerbetto.
Look! who be these? the Marquis and his friends.
A banquet waits them at the palace. Ah!
A greeting by the way. he cannot pass,
No not a dog nor cat, but he must speak.
Let us begone, for I were loth to meet him.