[He starts off, but is arrested by laughter within. It is Civa who enters, holding up a parchment.
O! Only Civa.
[Starts again with Halil.
Civa. How, Olympio!
Stay you, and hear! – May never virgin love him!
Gone as a thistle! (turns).
Mauria. Pouf! (laughs).
Alessa (to Civa). Now what have you?
Civa. Verses! found in the garden. Verses! verses!
On papyrus of Paphos. O, to read!
But you, Alessa – !
Alessa (takes them). In the garden?
Civa. By
The fountain cypress, at the marble feet
Of chaste Diana!
Maga. Where Sir Camarin
And oft our lady – !
Civa. Maga, will you prattle?
Read them to us, Alessa, read them, read.
They are of love!
Maga. No, sorrow.
Civa. O, as a nun
You ever sigh for sorrow! – They are of love!
Of princes bursting through enchanted bounds
To ladies prisoned in an ogre's keep!
Then of the bridals! – O, they are of love!
Maga. No, Civa, no! – of sorrow! see, her lips!
[She points to Alessa, who, reading, has paled.
See, see!
Civa. Alessa!
Alessa. Maga – Civa – Ah!
[She rends the parchment.
Mauria. What are you doing?
Alessa. They were writ to her!
Mauria. To her? to whom? what are you saying? Read!
Read us the verses.
Alessa. No.
Mauria. Tell then his name
Who writes them, and to whom.
Alessa. I will not.
Mauria. Then
It is some guilt you hide! – And touching her
You dote on – lady Yolanda!
Alessa. Shame!
Mauria. Some guilt
Of one, then, in this castle! – See, her lips
Betray it is.
Maga. No, Mauria! no! no! (holds her) hush!
[Forms appear without.
Mauria. O, loose me.