Basta ! am I to pass ! son of a dog ! Snout of a swine ! knave ! door-bestriding fool ! Have I not matters to her from my master , To the Signora , from her husband 's brother ? The Devil 's scullion feed you On flame , until your liver shrivels black ! O-he ! who 's here ! I come from Signor Osio ! The little Sicilian ? Luck then is my slave ! Well , pretty fig ! my little red pomegranate ! My fair forbidden fruit — pluckt in the moon ! I 've come ... But , Blood of the Holy Sepulchre ! What thing has happened here ? Eh ?... I , my beauty ? Of ... absolution ? Body , now , of Bacchus ! Does he not go to the Mass — and if he does not Am I a priest To know his need of purging ? Or if he sins must I be damned with him ? The way ! the way ! I want no way , but in unto your mistress . Am I not sent here to her with commands ? Ecco ! and must I turn with them upon me , And say a wench denied me ? Or that I feared Perchance to catch the fever Of heresy your master 's shackled with ? Pah , but you jest , my ruby rose of Aetna — Whom yet I will not say but I will wed , Tho you are from that Paynim-breeding isle Of Sicily . You jest : so , in with you . I seek your lady . More !And from what and whom ? And that is what I am to fear ? And do you mean —? To you she said this ? I say you lie . You do ! as if Eternity were not ,—To frighten me and Signor Osio ! MarinaAnd yet you understand ? ha , understand ? And hoarsely stare at words upon my lips That should be meaningless as moony madness ? You penetrate What not the Pope himself , Nor any could , but with a guilty knowledge ? There 's villainy I say , and you are in it , The tool of a blind villain , who should be Where now his brother rots , but that the Church Is no more Christ 's ! Ah , ah ! my nails could tear Your hated false caresses from my flesh , Your kisses from my memory and fling them Upon your wicked heart . And , for your master , The Virgin strangle him ! She — or another !Another ! MatteoWhat ? what say you ? I say , what do you hint ! Stand ! there is more ! More ! and I 'll have it , by the crater of Hell ! More — and your lips shall tell it with a kiss . Ah ! Ahi ! It has to do then with the Florentine ? Who is as pagan as that devil Venus , Yet prates to priests as subtly as my master Who will not play Love with her ? By the Passion and Blood of God , has she again Gone jealous to Monsignor Querio , To get undone the doors of the Inquisition , So that your master ...? has she ? Marina there . Yes , Signora . To your beauty He sends salute ; and to your lady cousin Who ... O Signora , see ! upon the terrace ! See , see ! Oh , in her hand there is ... Oh !— oh ! Signora , yes . He sends me with a message . He begs that he may see you . Implores That this strange shrinking from him and aversion , This pale ... and unintelligible ... repulsion You have of late — He bade me To say , Signora , nothing must prevent ; That it concerns — I could learn no more , Signor . The fever is tossing her . I do not know . But burningly she sleeps . Shall we not go ? For if we here are found — No priest is there , Signor . I seemed to hear Signora Bianca say that since the morning When it was borne in secret to the tomb She has not . But still her moan 's of Signor Rizzio , Who has not yet returned , tho still they seek him . Osio Her blood be on his head ! upon his head ! And not on mine , that has not swayed to schism , If death is calling now for her damnation . No , I am pure of it ! But should he come ? What , Signor ? Signor ! Signor ! I will show . You shall have all ; but let me live , Signor . I have a father crippled who would starve But for the gold I get .... And she , Signora Porzia 's innocent .