Antonio: Else were
My name di Tocca, sir, and not myself.
Charles: You have my love.—But as you came met you
The cardinal?
Antonio: So close he should by this
Be at our gates.
Charles: He'll miss no welcome, and—
Perhaps—we shall— (Smiles on them.) Give me that cross you wear,
My Fulvia. It may——
Antonio: Sir, this is good!
We earnestly beseech of you to hear
The Pope's embassador with yielding.
Charles: Ah?—
But you, boy, draw out of this solitude
And musing moodiness. You should think but
On silly sighs and kisses, rhymes and trysts!
Must I yet teach your coldness youth?
(A trumpet, and sound of opening gates.)
Draw out!
Antonio: I have to-day desired some words of this.
Enter Cecco.
Charles: Well, who——?
Cecco: The Cardinal, your grace.