- :- A C T V — : -
SCENE:
Same as third act. Quite dark. Candles
are burned down. The veil lies illumined not
quite in the middle, more to the R. where
Beatrice let it drop. Filippo Loschi's body
is almost covered by the weurtains of the alcove.
nothing is seen of it as the curtain Leises.
Emply scene for a time. Everything quiet?
After a time noise on the street, daughter
which again dies away. Then complete silence.
Then through the open door R. enter Beatrice
the Duke behind her, holding her left hand with
his right. She goes right to the veil and
picks it up.
Beatrice
Here it is! And now come!
Duke
(stands motionless)
Beatrice
I beg of you, come!
You see, that this is the veil, which you gave me.
I have kept my word, now keep yours. Some let us go away!
come let us go.
(Duke motionless)
(with ever growing anxiety)
You uwore to ask me nothing!
Men come, let us leavethis place — I beg of you.
Duke
(very quietly still holding her hand)
It is still the child of
the morning,
Which makes your fingers
tremble.
Beatrice
Let us go henee!
Duke
Not yet.
Beatrice
This is the veil.
SCENE:
Same as third act. Quite dark. Candles
are burned down. The veil lies illumined not
quite in the middle, more to the R. where
Beatrice let it drop. Filippo Loschi's body
is almost covered by the weurtains of the alcove.
nothing is seen of it as the curtain Leises.
Emply scene for a time. Everything quiet?
After a time noise on the street, daughter
which again dies away. Then complete silence.
Then through the open door R. enter Beatrice
the Duke behind her, holding her left hand with
his right. She goes right to the veil and
picks it up.
Beatrice
Here it is! And now come!
Duke
(stands motionless)
Beatrice
I beg of you, come!
You see, that this is the veil, which you gave me.
I have kept my word, now keep yours. Some let us go away!
come let us go.
(Duke motionless)
(with ever growing anxiety)
You uwore to ask me nothing!
Men come, let us leavethis place — I beg of you.
Duke
(very quietly still holding her hand)
It is still the child of
the morning,
Which makes your fingers
tremble.
Beatrice
Let us go henee!
Duke
Not yet.
Beatrice
This is the veil.