Violante
And now he shuts himself away for grief
Because she died!... But, if she be dead,
Wherefore these garlands?—
Or does he think she will come back, alive?
Lizzia
The learned doctor swears if she survives
Three days, she shall not die.
Violante
Not die, in sooth!
Who is this man who resurrects the Dead?
Why, folk whose nerves and sinews sing with life
Sicken, fall down, and seethe with death and worms
Within an hour, and they, the few who live,
Living, curse God because they did not die....
He would best think of the Living, and forget
The Dead.
Lizzia
Half-crazed with love, he dreams she will return....
This is the morning after the third day—
This is the very hour she would return.
Suppose the learned doctor keep his word?—
Hence have I hung these garlands.
[The sounds of a funeral procession heard approaching.... The procession passes the large doorway, going by, along the street, without. The people bear candles.... They pass slowly by the open door ... bodies being carried in shrouds.]
One Voice