ALEXANDER.

The voice so slack, my heart,
Its cordiality unbraced! Nay, nay,
You are over-wearied. Come into your Stanze.
At your bedside, when you are laid to rest,
And have drunk wine and eaten, I will ponder
Our state-craft, and receive from you the story
Of Sinigaglia.

CESARE.

That is past.
Our talk must all lie onward.... Whew, the pain
Of riding rough for hours!

ALEXANDER.

I hate you black like this—night on your face.

CESARE.

I am marred.

ALEXANDER.

—But as you will. Come, rest.