“It is I who am evil. Since that night you have been an enigma luring me. I loved you before. But now something else in me worships before you. Oh, my adored one, my beautiful, cruel one. Tell me ... I will love you more ... I will share it with you....”
He felt her body stiffen as his arms tightened. Under his burning eyes her face had grown white. She stared at him with sudden horror.
“Look at you!” she cried. “God in heaven! You are mad!”
“Francesca mia!” he was shouting.
“Let me go!”
Her arms wrenched themselves free. For a moment he held her writhing body. Then her hand stung against his face. His head recoiled under the blow. She stood apart from him, despair and anguish on her face.
“Oh, dear God, there is no one ... no one,” she cried.
De Medici’s eyes watched her aloofly as she sank to the floor and lay sobbing and whimpering at his feet.
“She acts,” he whispered, “she acts....”