Pia.
Why do you not walk, Guido, for a while,
I have an hour yet.
Guido.
Then I will go, Pia. But not for long,
I will come back soon enough to my chores, be sure;
Mine is a short tether.
[He goes out. Lisetta on the bed opens her eyes.]
Lisetta.
Pia.
Pia.
Yes, dear child.
Lisetta.
Pia, turn my pillow, I am stifled.
Pia.
There! Thou hast slept well?
Lisetta.
I have not slept.
Pia.
Holy Virgin, thou hast not slept!
Lisetta.
Pia, think you I did not know? This month
I scarce have slept for thinking on his lot.
I read his fighting soul. Where are his songs,
The great renown that waited him? Down, down,
Struck by the self-same hand that shattered me.
I listen night on night and hear him moan
In his sleep—