[He lifts the great Este necklace from her knee.
Cloud, cloud, be dumb, my moon—shine under cloud!
... Were letters sent from Spain?
LUCREZIA.
I would not read them.
CESARE.
We will receive them presently and answer.
LUCREZIA.
I marvel
To see you up and in the morning sun.
CESARE.
I waked—then heard you sat against the sun,
Fixed to one spot in glory.