"Balthasar."
"Madame?"
"Look yonder at the sunset. You must be tired of gazing on my face."
He rose up like one dazed--intoxicated by colours, sounds, and odours. Duessa's hand beckoned him. He went and knelt on the couch at her side, and looked out over the flaming woods.
"And the other woman?" she said.
"The other woman?"
"This Madonna of my lord's chapel."
"Yes?"
"She amuses me; I am not jealous; what is jealousy to me? Tell me about her, Balthasar; no doubt it is a pretty tale, and you know the whole."
"I, madame?"