Porzia

Porzia.
No, no! I'll not forgive you!
For is it not ill boding to our bridals
You quarrel over the heavens – and not me!

[As he laughs.

My beauty, he says, this husband I have taken,
Is life – and yet ere 'tis an hour his
Forgets to live on it! – and Osio,
The brother of him, —
E'en Osio there —

Rizzio (gay again).
Who swears he will protect you!

[Osio starts.

Porzia.
Protect?

Rizzio.
Against the heresy of robes
Of pagan fashion – and against your husband!

[Constraint. Porzia sees Bianca flush.

Porzia.
I do not understand – unless you jest,
As oft – too oft you do!
Or mean perchance Bianca … unto whom
He was betrothed
And whom he would, this breath,
Be wooing again, were I, not words, your bride!

[Then winningly again, as Marina enters.

But see, here is Marina! the dance awaits!

[Music is heard.

Let us go in and give ourselves to Joy,
For Misery is quick enough to take us,
If first we do not wed us to her rival!
Is it not so?

Rizzio (with passion).
Or sun has never shone!
So in! the tarantelle! (as Tasso enters) And then a song
From Messer Tasso, who would be divine,

[Greets him.

Did he love Venus as he fears the Church,
Apollo as he shuns the Inquisition!
In! – Osio, will you come?

Osio.
I will not.

Rizzio.
Then
Dance with your own mad humors and delusions
Here to Vesuvius and to the sea, —
Or to Bianca plead your pardon!
(To the rest) Come!

[Seizes blossoms blithely.

For in this world there's but one heresy,
Denial of the divinity of Joy!

[Throws sprays over Porzia, takes her hand and they go singing. All follow, but Osio and Bianca.

Osio (when their steps have died; in cold rage).
You shall hear more of this, my pretty brother!
Prater of pagan doubts!
Whom – but that God may use it – I would curse
For the resemblance that our mother gave us!
For, by the living blood of San Gennaro,
In yon Duomo, the scoffing siren song
Of heresy that swells in you shall cease,
Tho it shall take the sweat of the rack to hush it!
You shall hear more!..

Bianca (who has stood long indignant).
And others shall hear more!

[Her voice breaking as she turns on him.

Others who fix upon me this affront
Of broken and humiliate betrothals!

[As he attempts to speak.

Yes! you have made of me a thing of shame
Here in the eyes
Of those who're alien to me!
That you have loved me not – or love me less