BURCHARD.
My lord
Takes interest in the fortunes of the game?
[The Pope nods.
ALEXANDER.
I rally—
Ay, honest Burchard, set it down—I rally.
CARDINALS.
Then speak your last requests.
—How can we serve you?
—What of Duke Cesare? Your benediction!
—What of your soul?
ALEXANDER.
I am too busy dying. Bonafede—
This dying is itself a little house,
And one within
That cherishes soft as a nurse, indulgent,
And lets one wake or sleep.
[To one of the Card-Players.] How foolish of you!
You have lost your chances, listening to my talk.
You have no meaning
Unless you are intent upon the game.
Kiss me, good Bonafede, and your prayers.
[Exit Bonafede weeping.