Paulo
No need now, Lucia. In Venice we are safe from Damiano di Medici. Now, will you sit for me? I burn to work. Come! You must have roses in your hands. I will go to the flower-sellers by the bridge.
Lucia
I would have brought them with me from the market-place—one scudi each! I hesitated——
Paulo
And bought ten sprats instead! My wonderful, clever house-wife. Without sprats to eat I never could paint roses! But I must have them. I shall be but a moment away, my love—a single moment (throwing kisses from the door) that will seem like years! Farewell … Little Child.
Lucia
Little Child! Ah, how I love that name, given to me with our first kiss. I love it better than my own. (Thinks a moment, puzzled.) For somehow it seems my very own——
Paulo
It is your own. The little love-name that seems to travel like memory up the ages. I shall be back as soon as you are ready.