(Goes to his side.) Forgive me. I thought only of myself. For a moment I forgot the work, the beauty that is his divine, his holy mission. Now I’m myself again. The water, the rising water—somehow—in some strange way—reminds me. Oh, I will be wise and loving in the noblest way. (Looks into his eyes. Imploringly.) It is his need, his poverty, that drive me to ask a favour of you who once aspired to be my lover. Have you no pity? We fled from Florence to escape you—it is true. I would rather ask favours of any in the world but you—— (Confused.)
Medici
And yet—(To himself.) And you are his model. You could live for ever on my ceiling! (To her.) You are, indeed, a Goddess belonging to eternity! (Admiringly.)
Lucia
And yet—yes, I came to you an hour ago—as patron. It is true. It was for his sake and for his great art I came. (Voice singing outside.) Oh, I ask no favour now more than a little time to talk with him. That is his voice. I will persuade him. I will gain his consent, and he will do the picture for you—for your palace. Leave me, I beg, a few moments with him alone, and then return—to find—I promise it—the greatest painter in all Italy——
Medici
In all the world.
Lucia
Prepared to give you of his best.
[Clasps her hands and stares into his face.