Porzia

Osio (turning upon him).
And you, a monk, will say so to the Church
And to the Holy Office?

Bruno (in humorous alarm).
God forbid!

Osio.
And you, Rizzio, who on your wedding-day,
Mid rites of Venus
And revels to Apollo,
Wear pagan robes – and prink others in them —

Rizzio.
Ho, others! meaning Porzia?

Osio.
I say —

[Mirth within.

Rizzio (laughing at him).
What, what, my merry raging brother, more?
That Pan is not your god, whom I but now
Besought for inward beauty and truth of soul?
No, no, he is not, by Vesuvius!

Osio.
I say —

Rizzio.
That Plato and the ancients are
A plague which only the Pope can purge from earth?

[Again laughing.

Ai! to the flames with them, and with all fairness!

Osio.
I say that you —

Rizzio.
Hey, yea! that I who fall
Not on my knees to mitred villainy —
Or cringe to crosiered craft —
And yet whose life is lit for truth and freedom —
Am viler far than you
Who take your pleasure and pay it with confession?
Who think the Devil with faith would be no Devil?

[Porzia again appears with Bianca.

You hear it, Bruno?

Osio.
I say there is one thing
You shall not do!

Rizzio.
So-ho! my lordly brother,
My breaker of betrothals – if not creeds —
And that is what?

Osio.
I will protect her from it!

Rizzio.
Her?

Osio.
Porzia! from the passion of your lies!

[Astonishment.

Rizzio (stung, staring).
By … all the saints
and fiends and incubi
That ever infested night and nunneries!
What frenzy now is biting at your brain!

[Before him.

Is she your wife, so to concern your care?

[They face, pale.

Porzia (who sees, and with Bianca comes quickly, winningly down).
Heresy! heresy! truth and heresy!
Are there no other words in all the world
To pour as wine
Upon a wedding-day! —
Are these your ways, my newly wedded lord,
To leave me, an hour's bride, away from home —
From my dear uncle's home —
With but a friend or two for comforting —
And bandy words of other stars than those
You swear to see when gazing in my eyes!

Rizzio (responsively).
My Porzia!