That troubles me.
SECOND MERCHANT.
[Going to the door of the oratory and peering through it.]
Upon the altar steps
The Countess tosses, murmuring in her sleep
A broken Paternoster.
[The FIRST MERCHANT goes to the door and stands beside him.]
She is grown still.
FIRST MERCHANT.
A great plan floats into my mind—no wonder,
For I come from the ninth and mightiest Hell,