PEPE. Ah! now the bride!—that's something—she is tooth-some.
Look you, my lord—now, while the progress halts—
Cousin Paolo, has he got the dumps?
Mercy! to see him, one might almost think
'T was his own marriage. What a doleful face!
The boy is ill. He caught a fever, uncle,
Travelling across the marshes. Physic! physic!
If he be really dying, get a doctor,
And cut the matter short. 'Twere merciful.
MALATESTA. For heaven's sake, cease your clamour! I shall have
No face to meet them else. 'Tis strange, for all:
What ails Paolo?
PEPE. Dying, by this hand!
MALATESTA. Then I will hang you.
PEPE. Don't take up my craft.
Wit's such a stranger in your brain that I
Scarce knew my lodger venturing from your mouth.
Now they come on again.
MALATESTA. Stand back!
PEPE. [Looking round.] The bridegroom?
He flies betimes, before the bride shows fight.
[Walks back, looking for LANCIOTTO.
Music, shouts, ringing of bells, &c. Enter MEN-AT-ARMS, with banners, &c., GUIDO, CARDINAL, KNIGHTS, ATTENDANTS, &c.; then PAOLO, _conducting _FRANCESCA, _followed by RITTA, LADIES, PAGES, &c., and other_ MEN-AT-ARMS. They file around the stage, and halt.
MALATESTA. Welcome, to Rimini, Count Guido! Welcome,
And fair impressions of our poor abode,
To you, my daughter! You are well returned,
My son, Paolo! Let me bless you, son.
[PAOLO approaches.]
How many spears are in old Guido's train?