ALEXANDER.
It is
The hour for worship. With discretion, child,
You soon will be the mistress of a king.
[Fiammetta winces.] Madonna!
How like, how like! You are good. Why should you blush?
You are good and honest ... and a strength of heart
Is in you to bear princes. You will suckle
One day a playmate for this royal child,
Infans Romanus!
FIAMMETTA.
[Looking round in terror.] The Lord Cesare
Bade me attend ...
ALEXANDER.
Scared at the Vatican,
Seat of the gods, sweet child, and seat of Him
Whose first command is Multiply! These chambers
Are given to my son. But all these motley walls
We will have re-created—fading frescoes,
Of hands that moulder.... We will have your Cesar—
Nay, we will have yourself set on a throne,
Or rising ’mid the lilies ... not historic:
In history there is no art; and life
Is life and death, and never resurrection.
My fair Fiammetta, we will have you painted.
There is a prayer in your bright eyes—
FIAMMETTA.
Lord Cesare ...
And represented as King Solomon.
ALEXANDER.
[Patting her on the back.] Assuredly ... while David rests with God.