RITTA. But, my lady, He'll woo you for another.
FRANCESCA. He?--ha! ha! [_Laughing._] I should not think it from the prologue, Ritta.
RITTA. 'Tis not the Count-- 'Tis not Count Lanciotto.
FRANCESCA. Gracious saints! Have you gone crazy? Ritta, speak again, Before I chide you.
RITTA. 'Tis the solemn truth. That gentleman is Count Paolo, lady, Brother to Lanciotto, and no more Like him than--than--
RITTA. Count Guido's pot, For boiling waiting-maids, is like the bath Of Venus on the arras.
FRANCESCA. Are you mad,-- Quite mad, poor Ritta?
RITTA. Yes; perhaps I am. Perhaps Lanciotto is a proper man-- Perhaps I lie--perhaps I speak the truth-- Perhaps I gabble like a fool. O! heavens, That dreadful pot!
RITTA. By the mass, They shall not cozen you, my gentle mistress! If my lord Guido boiled me, do you think I should be served up to the garrison, By way of pottage? Surely they would not waste me.
FRANCESCA. You are an idle talker. Pranks like these Fit your companions. You forget yourself.
RITTA. Not you, though, lady. Boldly I repeat, That he who looked so fair, and talked so sweet, Who rode from Rimini upon a horse Of dapple-gray, and walked through yonder gate, Is not Count Lanciotto.
FRANCESCA. Then I am more abused-- More tricked, more trifled with, more played upon-- By him, my father, and by all of you, Than anything, suspected of a heart, Was ever yet!
RITTA. In Count Paolo, lady, Perchance there was no meditated fraud.
RITTA. I but suppose: Though in your father--O! I dare not say.
FRANCESCA. I dare. It was ill usage, gross abuse, Treason to duty, meanness, craft--dishonour! What if I'd thrown my heart before the feet Of this sham husband! cast my love away Upon a counterfeit! I was prepared To force affection upon any man Called Lanciotto. Anything of silk, Tinsel, and gewgaws, if he bore that name, Might have received me for the asking. Yes, I was inclined to venture more than half In this base business--shame upon my thoughts!-- All for my father's peace and poor Ravenna's. And this Paolo, with his cavalcade, His minstrels, music, and his pretty airs, His showy person, and his fulsome talk, Almost made me contented with my lot. O! what a fool--in faith, I merit it-- Trapped by mere glitter! What an easy fool! Ha! ha! I'm glad it went no further, girl; [_Laughing._] I'm glad I kept my heart safe, after all. There was my cunning. I have paid them back, I warrant you! I'll marry Lanciotto; I'll seem to shuffle by this treachery. No! I'll seek my father, put him face to face With his own falsehood; and I'll stand between, Awful as justice, meting out to him Heaven's dreadful canons 'gainst his conscious guilt. I'll marry Lanciotto. On my faith, I would not live another wicked day Here, in Ravenna, only for the fear That I should take to lying, with the rest. Ha! ha! it makes me merry, when I think How safe I kept this little heart of mine! [_Laughing._ [_Exit, with_ ATTENDANTS, _etc._