You shine, you shine!
Lucrece, my softer radiance—what, my Pearl? [He kisses her.
Draw out the heavy coffer,
Lord Casanova. Open it! The sight
Grows slippery on these burnished domes!
There, there—ah, there
Is patrimony....
ENVOY.
Wondrous!
ALEXANDER.
Tell your master.
[His arm round his daughter.] Lucrece, the King of Naples sends his nephew
To cheer your maiden widowhood. Next month
You will be bride and wife.
LUCREZIA.
So soon!
ALEXANDER.
Santi! she quarrels
In maidenwise with time! You shall not leave me,
As when you wept at Pesaro. Your Prince
Consents! Alfonso is of lusty frame—
Good face and eyes.... I speak him as he is?