(Looking from one to the other, then to the picture.) There are many flowers in my gardens, but Italy holds one Salviati only. (Reflects.) My ceilings need him. I swore, besides, to Cosimo——
Lucia
(Distraught.) My Lord, my Lord, you promised——!
Medici
(Brusquely.) That I would see the work and offer my patronage—if it pleased me. That offer still holds good. But your husband is obstinate——
Paulo
I am true. I claim only liberty.
Medici
(Darkly.) So I must remember my duties as a patron—and apply remedies that may save his unreason—and his—art.
Lucia