FRANCESCA. Now, are you not ashamed,
To look me in the face with that bold brow?
I am amazed!
RITTA. I am a woman, lady;
I too have been in love; I know its ways,
Its arts, and its deceits. Your frowning face,
And seeming indignation, do not cheat.
Your heart is in my hand.
PAOLO. [Calls.] Francesca!
FRANCESCA. Hence,
Thou wanton-hearted minion! hence, I say!—
And never look me in the face again!—
Hence, thou insulting slave!
RITTA. [Clinging to her.] O lady, lady—
FRANCESCA. Begone! [Throws her off.
RITTA. I have no friends—no one to love—
O, spare me!
FRANCESCA. Hence!
RITTA. Was it for this I loved—
Cared for you more than my own happiness—
Ever at heart your slave—without a wish
For greater recompense than your stray smiles?
PAOLO. [Calls.] Francesca!