_Aloysius._ You run from them too rapidly to death, Which comes but when it will--and not from sleep In which I left her.
_Marina._ But her sleep has grown To fever that has flowed into her brain! Her heart is full of moans, Her lips of murmurs! She tore the crucifix from off her neck And flung it from her, saying that it was The arms of Osio; and then cried out That she was virgin and immaculately Had borne a child, that now was laid in the tomb, But should arise again. Then would she start And say there is no God, but only stars, But stars, a heaven of stars! For which Signora Bianca ignorant arose and chid her.
_Aloysius._ And all unduly did! This must be stayed, Not made immedicable. Go in; prepare the herbs that I left with you.
[_She goes--as he stands pondering--past Bianca, who enters._
_Bianca_ (_pausing, then with resolute bitterness_). So you have come and have not brought him? Well, The insult of this secrecy must end, The shrouding and affronting soil of it. I'll sift in doubt no more, but have the truth.
_Bianca._ O, fatality's in the world, From atom to infinity it may be, But there is also sinning. Which is this? And whence is it If she though sunk in sleep Says ever "I must go into the bower!" And ever with elusive lips "the bower!" Whom would she meet?
_Bianca._ Whom! or if No guilt is in her why this grievous haunting?
_Bianca_ (_angrily_). So to evade confessing? To avoid granting That it is Osio? That it is he has been her paramour? That he it is has plundered her with passion-- Whose proof is the child Which Heaven has struck dead? Will go? Nor first deny That rightly Rizzio has turned from her And now perchance is seeking Osio----
[_Breaks off, for the gate opens and Rizzio slowly enters. A deadly purpose is on him as he looks around._
_Rizzio_ (_at length_). You clothe my thought, Bianca, in the flesh Of speech that I have shunned: but we shall know---- Soon know, for I have tracked him to this gate.
_Aloysius._ But--this is error!... he is gone from Naples!
_Rizzio._ Or wrapped in lies is hidden here for her? By the very God of the world, I say---- (_With restraint._) But ... no!
_Aloysius._ And "no" until you trust it! For her fate Is not as you suppose.