25.
longingtea rrnehes into linitless space,
d all else is naught. Indifferent
re ye all to me, also to what threatens you,
inddifferent is my city;the battle of the morrow,
maningless bloody quarrel, since I
little horror of Caesar have,
love of Bologna and of you!
whole life is concentratea in
thing;Where is Beatrice?
at is it, that moves me so unspeakably?
et carnal lust, not constant longing
a beautiful wife worlds such influence-
refore I by some higher power am held
will of fate compels me.
ing me Beatrice and I shall be yours again, as I have been,
11 make you free!
her back to me again, and Bologna
all stand first among the eities of this land!
ing me Beatrice,then shall the eogle,
with maimed laing sank down
ore St.Peters,typify Borgia himself
he shall die here--not me!
several
Duchess!
(Beatrice appears in the garden. Intense astronishment)
Duke
ratrice!
(si lence)
Beatrice
(remains at first standing between the columns)
I have been longer away than I thought.
Duke
there do you come from?
Beatrice
I come from church.
Duke
at didst there?
Beatrice
(as if repeating
prayed there
for all.
for you, for myself,
Duke
fast prayed?