RITTA. No! blest Ritta! Thank kind heaven, That kept me spotless when he tempted me, And my weak heart was pleading with his tongue. Pray, do not weep. You spoil your eyes for me. But never love; O! it is terrible!
RITTA. Do: because, my lady, Even a husband may be false, you know; Ay, even to so sweet a wife as you. Men have odd tastes. They'll surfeit on the charms Of Cleopatra, and then turn aside To woo her blackamoor. 'Tis so, in faith; Or Dora's uncle's gold had ne'er outbid The boundless measure of a love like mine. Think of it, lady, to weigh love with gold! What could be meaner?
FRANCESCA. Nothing, nothing, Ritta. Though gold's the standard measure of the world, And seems to lighten everything beside. Yet heap the other passions in the scale, And balance them 'gainst that which gold outweighs-- Against this love--and you shall see how light The most supreme of them are in the poise! I speak by book and history; for love Slights my high fortunes. Under cloth of state The urchin cowers from pompous etiquette, Waiving his function at the scowl of power, And seeks the rustic cot to stretch his limbs In homely freedom. I fulfil a doom. We who are topmost on this heap of life Are nearer to heaven's hand than you below; And so are used, as ready instruments, To work its purposes. Let envy hide Her witless forehead at a prince's name, And fix her hopes upon a clown's content. You, happy lowly, know not what it is To groan beneath the crowned yoke of state, And bear the goadings of the sceptre. Ah! Fate drives us onward in a narrow way, Despite our boasted freedom.
[_Enter_ PAOLO, _with_ PAGES _bearing torches._]
FRANCESCA. He does? Let him wait on forever! I'll not go! O! dear Paolo--
FRANCESCA. It is well. I have been troubled with a sleepless night. My brain is wild. I know not what I say. Pray, do not call me sister: it is cold. I never had a brother, and the name Sounds harshly to me. When you speak to me, Call me Francesca.
FRANCESCA. I would not be obeyed. I'd have you do it Because--because you love me--as a sister-- And of your own good-will, not my command, Would please me.--Do you understand?
PAOLO. Too well! [_Aside._] 'Tis a nice difference.
FRANCESCA. Yet you understand? Say that you do.