MALATESTA. For heaven's sake, cease your clamour! I shall have No face to meet them else. 'Tis strange, for all: What ails Paolo?
PEPE. Don't take up my craft. Wit's such a stranger in your brain that I Scarce knew my lodger venturing from your mouth. Now they come on again.
PEPE. [_Looking round._] The bridegroom? He flies betimes, before the bride shows fight. [_Walks back, looking for_ LANCIOTTO.
_Music, shouts, ringing of bells, &c. Enter_ MEN-AT-ARMS, _with banners, &c_., GUIDO, CARDINAL, KNIGHTS, ATTENDANTS, &_c.; then_ PAOLO, _conducting _FRANCESCA, _followed by _RITTA, LADIES, PAGES, _&c., and other_ MEN-AT-ARMS. _They file around the stage, and halt._
MALATESTA. Welcome, to Rimini, Count Guido! Welcome, And fair impressions of our poor abode, To you, my daughter! You are well returned, My son, Paolo! Let me bless you, son.
[PAOLO _approaches._] How many spears are in old Guido's train?
MALATESTA. 'Tis well. Again I bid you welcome! Make no show Of useless ceremony with us. Friends Have closer titles than the empty name. We have provided entertainment, Count, For all your followers, in the midst of us. We trust the veterans of Rimini May prove your soldiers that our courtesy Does not lag far behind their warlike zeal. Let us drop Guelf and Ghibelin henceforth, Coupling the names of Rimini and Ravenna As bridegroom's to his bride's.
GUIDO. Count Malatesta, I am no rhetorician, or my words Might keep more even with the love I feel: Simply, I thank you. With an honest hand I take the hand which you extend to me, And hope our grasp may never lose its warmth.-- You marked the bastion by the water-side? Weak as a bulrush. [_Apart to a_ KNIGHT.
GUIDO. Remember it; and when you're private, sir, Draw me a plan.
GUIDO. How's this? I do not see my future son-in-law.
LANCIOTTO. [_Advancing._] I am here, my lord.
FRANCESCA. [_Starting._] O! heaven! Is that my husband, Count Paolo? You, You then, among the rest, have played me false! He is--[_Apart to _PAOLO.
LANCIOTTO [_Aside._] Ha! she turns from me.
PEPE. [_Approaching _LANCIOTTO, _sings._]
Around, around the lady turned, She turned not to her lord; She turned around to a gallant, gallant knight, Who ate at his father's board.
A pretty ballad! all on one string though.