She?—
CARLOMAN.
Is but herself,
O Marcomir, we tarry—and the leaves
Are tossing through the air—
[Astolph throws his scarlet riding-cloak over Carloman, who seizes Marcomir with an impetuous movement and draws him toward the horses that champ at the gate.]
ACT IV
Scene: The Hall of the Frankish Palace. Early morning; the remains of a banquet on the table, drinking-cups, wine bottles, faded leaves.
[A Servant is wiping away the stains of wine from the floor.]
SERVANT.
It is a cheerful thing to make all clean
When one is brisk and cool: this early air
Before the sun gets up is fit for men
To breathe when they are working.
Spot on spot!
A stranger to the revel of last night
Would take it there had been a massacre
To daub the floor so thickly.