(Enter Giacomo. He sets the light upon the table and confronts
Lorenzo with a stern look.)
Gia. Lorenzo, thou hast served me twenty years,
And faithfully; now answer me, how was't
That thou wert in the street at such an hour?
Lor. When that the festival was o'er last night,
I went to join some comrades in their wine
To pass the time in memory of the event.
Gia. And doubtless thou wert blinded soon with drink?
Lor. Indeed, good signor, though the wine flowed free,
I could not touch it, though much urged by all—
Too great a sadness sat upon my heart—
I could do naught but sit and sigh and think
Of our Rosalia in her bridal dress.
Gia. And sober too! so much the more at fault.
But, as I said, thou'st served me long and well,
Perchance too long—too long by just a day.
Here, take this purse, and find another master.
Lor. Oh, signor, do not drive me thus away!
If I have made mistake—
Gia. No, sirrah, no!
Thou hast not made mistake, but something worse.
Lor. Oh, pray you, what is that then I have made?
Gia. A lie!