1st LADY.
Nay, signor.
I like this heavy air, rich with warm odors,
The broad, clear light, the many-colored throng.
I might have breathed on mine own balcony
The evening breeze.
1st LORD.
Still at cross purposes.
When will you cease to flout me?
1st LADY.
When I prize
A lover's sigh more dear than mine own pleasure.
See, the Signora Julia passed again.
She is far too pale for so much white, I find.
Donna Aurora—ah, how beautiful!
That spreading ruff, sprinkled with seeds of gold,
Becomes her well. Would you believe it, sir,
Folk say her face is twin to mine—what think you?
1st LORD.
For me, the huge earth holds but one such face.
You know it well.
1St LADY.
The hall is overfilled;
Go we without.
[They pass on.]
2d LADY.
Thrice he hath danced with her.
She is not one of us—her face is strange;
Colored and carven to meet most men's desire—
Is't not, my lord? Certes, it loses naught
For lack of ornament. Pray, ask her name,
If but for my sake.
2d LORD.
I have already asked.
She is the daughter to the Spagnoletto,
Maria-Rosa.
2d LADY.
Ah, I might have guessed.
The form and face are matched with the apparel,
As in a picture. 'T was the master's hand,
I warrant you, arranged with such quaint art,
Such seeming-careless care, the dead, white pearls
Within her odd, bright hair.
[They pass on.]
DON JOHN.
Now hope, now fear
Reigned lord of my wild dreams. One name still sang
Like the repeated strain of some caged bird,
Its sweet, persistent music through my brain.
One vanishing face upon the empty air
Shone forth and faded night and day. And you,
Did you not find me hasty, over-bold?
Nay, tell me all your thought.
MARIA.
You know, my lord,
I am no courtier, and belike my thought
Might prove too rustic for a royal ear.