Banish her.
ALEXANDER.
I could not bear to see a lifelessness
Of sorrow in the dear one.
CESARE.
Banish her.
Unless you banish her,
The Vatican nor any street in Rome
Will see me.
ALEXANDER.
She shall spend her tears at Nepi,
At Nepi—my own gift to her—no exile!
She shall retire where she is Governor,
Attended and in honour. La, sweet child!
The iris-sprinkled side-locks, amber sheaves,
A widow’s! She, a dove of desert-waters,
A widow!
CESARE.
Let her keep
Her dule ’mid dead volcanoes!
[He catches up the child, tosses it, and tumbles it on a couch against a large piombo cat.