JULIA.
Yet without illusions
What would our lives become, what we ourselves?
Dreams or illusions, call them what you will,
They lift us from the commonplace of life
To better things.
VITTORIA.
Are there no brighter dreams,
No higher aspirations, than the wish
To please and to be pleased?
JULIA.
For you there are;
I am no saint; I feel the world we live in
Comes before that which is to be here after,
And must be dealt with first.
VITTORIA.
But in what way?
JULIA. Let the soft wind that wafts to us the odor Of orange blossoms, let the laughing sea And the bright sunshine bathing all the world, Answer the question.
VITTORIA.
And for whom is meant
This portrait that you speak of?
JULIA.
For my friend
The Cardinal Ippolito.
VITTORIA.
For him?
JULIA Yes, for Ippolito the Magnificent. 'T is always flattering to a woman's pride To be admired by one whom all admire.
VITTORIA. Ah, Julia, she that makes herself a dove Is eaten by the hawk. Be on your guard, He is a Cardinal; and his adoration Should be elsewhere directed.