DJEM.
Sweets, comfits of coriander. They are welcome? Madonna, you pick! [Sancia turns from Cesare.
[Donna Lucrezia Borgia d’Aragon, with Donna Vanozza de’ Catanei, comes up the church-steps from the back. They are in mourning. The Spanish Gentlemen of Cesare’s train approach. Instinctively Lucrezia lets her veil fall aside. Groups stand round her, admiringly.
LUCREZIA.
Behold!
[Advancing and patting the jewelled clasp on his shoulder.
O Cesare, this lovely guise!
You make me feel
A Princess and an Eastern Princess. Jewels
And dusk of jewels.... Oh, the snowy turban—
But I have never seen your eyes so blue.
You will despise me in this mourning garb,
Great Sultan.
[She half-closes her veil and looks round on the group.
Mother, but your son is bowing,
Is bowing low—salute him. By his side
The Princess Sancia.