Sebald. SCENE I. No, the white wine-the white wine! Well, Ottima, I promised no new year Should rise on us the ancient shameful way, Nor does it rise: pour on! To your black eyes! Ottima. You brought those foreign prints. We looked at them Over the wine and fruit. I had to scheme To get him from the fire. Nothing but saying Sebald. Hark you, Ottima, One thing 's to guard against. We'll not make much Parade of warmth, childish officious coil, Proof upon proof were needed now, now first, To show I love you-yes, still love you--love you Ottima. Sebald. 75 80 85 Love! Not tied so sure! 90 Because tho' I was wrought upon, have struck So surely yours?-therefore, forever yours? Ottima. Love, to be wise (one counsel pays another), Should we have-months ago, when first we loved, For instance that May morning we two stole 95 How do you feel now, Ottima? There, curse The world, and all outside! Let us throw off Ottima. Best never speak of it. Sebald. Best speak again and yet again of it, Till words cease to be more than words. His blood,' 'His blood.' Ottima. The deed - Sebald. Notice, I'll say them now, Assuredly if I repented Repent? who should repent, or why? What puts that in your head? Did I once say That I repented? Sebald. The deed' and 'the event '—just now it was 'Our passion's fruit'—the devil take such cant! Say, once and always, Luca was a wittol, I am his cut-throat, you are Ottima. 40 45 50 Here's the wine; 55 Black? white then? I brought it when we left the house above, And glasses too-wine of both sorts. Sebald. But am not I his cut-throat? What are you? Ottima. There trudges on his business from the Duomo Benet the Capuchin, with his brown hood And bare feet-always in one place at church, Close under the stone wall by the south entry ; I used to take him for a brown cold piece Now, so has that dumb figure fastened on me, I rather should account the plastered wall 60 65 Sebald. SCENE I. No, the white wine-the white wine! Well, Ottima, I promised no new year Should rise on us the ancient shameful way, Nor does it rise: pour on! To your black eyes! 113 70 Ottima. You brought those foreign prints. We looked at them Over the wine and fruit. I had to scheme To get him from the fire. Nothing but saying Sebald. Hark you, Ottima, One thing 's to guard against. We'll not make much Ottima. Sebald. 75 80 85 Love! Not tied so sure! 90 Because tho' I was wrought upon, have struck Ottima. Love, to be wise (one counsel pays another), So surely yours?-therefore, forever yours? Should we have-months ago, when first we loved, For instance that May morning we two stole Under the green ascent of sycamores— 95 If we had come upon a thing like that Suddenly Sebald. 'A thing-there again-'a thing!' Dare you stay here? I would go back and hold Sebald. Off, off-take your hands off mine! 'T is the hot evening-off! oh, morning, is it? 100 105 110 Ottima. There's one thing must be done—you know what thing. Come in and help to carry. We may sleep Anywhere in the whole wide house to-night. Sebald. What would come, think you, if we let him lie Just as he is? Let him lie there until The angels take him! He is turned by this Off from his face beside, as you will see. Ottima. This dusty pane might serve for looking-glass. A plait of hair should wave across my neck? Sebald. Ottima, I would give your neck, Each splendid shoulder, both those breasts of yours, When all the morning I was loitering here- 115 120 125 SCENE I Ottima. See! No, I'll finish! Do you think What is one young for, else? In age we 'll sigh Why, I was starving when I used to call And teach you music, starving while you plucked me Ottima. 115 130 135 140 My poor lost friend! He gave me Life, nothing less; what if he did reproach Why must you lean across till our cheeks touch'd? Ottima. Well then, I love you better now than ever, Falls off our crime; this naked crime of ours Pay they or no its price? Come: they or it! 145 150 155 160 |