SCENE III.

_The Same. Interior of the Cathedral._ LANCIOTTO, FRANCESCA, PAOLO, MALATESTA, GUIDO, RITTA, PEPE, LORDS, KNIGHTS, PRIESTS, PAGES, _a bridal-train of_ LADIES, SOLDIERS, CITIZENS, ATTENDANTS, _etc., discovered before the High Altar. Organ music. The rites being over, they advance._

MALATESTA. By heaven--

PEPE. O! uncle, uncle, you're in church!

MALATESTA. I'll break your head, knave!

PEPE. I claim sanctuary.

MALATESTA. Why, bridegroom, will you never kiss the bride? We all are mad to follow you.

PEPE. Yes, yes; Here was Paolo wetting his red lips For the last minute. Kiss, and give him room.

MALATESTA. You heaven-forsaken imp, be quiet now!

PEPE. Then there'd be naught worth hearing.

MALATESTA. Bridegroom, come!

PEPE. Lord! he don't like it! Hey!--I told you so-- He backs at the first step. Does he not know His trouble's just begun?

LANCIOTTO. Gentle Francesca, Custom imposes somewhat on thy lips: I'll make my levy. [_Kisses her. The others follow._] [_Aside._] Ha! she shrank! I felt Her body tremble, and her quivering lips Seemed dying under mine! I heard a sigh, Such as breaks hearts--O! no, a very groan; And then she turned a sickly, miserable look On pale Paolo, and he shivered too! There is a mystery hangs around her,--ay, Paolo knows it, too.--By all the saints, I'll make him tell it, at the dagger's point! Paolo!--here! I do adjure you, brother, By the great love I bear you, to reveal The secret of Francesca's grief.

PAOLO. I cannot.

LANCIOTTO. She told you nothing?

PAOLO. Nothing.

LANCIOTTO. Not a word?

PAOLO. Not one.

LANCIOTTO. What heard you at Ravenna, then?

PAOLO. Nothing.

LANCIOTTO. Here?

PAOLO. Nothing.

LANCIOTTO. Not the slightest hint?-- Don't stammer, man! Speak quick! I am in haste.

PAOLO. Never.

LANCIOTTO. What know you?

PAOLO. Nothing that concerns Your happiness, Lanciotto. If I did, Would I not tell unquestioned?

LANCIOTTO. Would you not? You ask a question for me: answer it.

PAOLO. I have.

LANCIOTTO. You juggle, you turn deadly pale, Fumble your dagger, stand with head half round, Tapping your feet.--You dare not look at me! By Satan! Count Paolo, let me say, You look much like a full-convicted thief!

PAOLO. Brother!--

LANCIOTTO. Pshaw! brother! You deceive me, sir: You and that lady have a devil's league, To keep a devil's secret. Is it thus You deal with me? Now, by the light above I'd give a dukedom for some fair pretext To fly you all! She does not love me? Well, I could bear that, and live away from her. Love would be sweet, but want of it becomes An early habit to such men as I. But you--ah! there's the sorrow--whom I loved An infant in your cradle; you who grew Up in my heart, with every inch you gained; You whom I loved for every quality, Good, bad, and common, in your natural stock; Ay, for your very beauty! It is strange, you'll say, For such a crippled horror to do that, Against the custom of his kind! O! yes, I love, and you betray me!

PAOLO. Lanciotto, This is sheer frenzy. Join your bride.

LANCIOTTO. I'll not! What, go to her, to feel her very flesh Crawl from my touch?--to hear her sigh and moan, As if God plagued her? Must I come to that? Must I endure your hellish mystery With my own wife, and roll my eyes away In sentimental bliss? No, no! until I go to her, with confident belief In her integrity and candid love, I'll shun her as a leper. [_Alarm-bells toll._

MALATESTA. What is that?

_Enter, hastily, a_ MESSENGER _in disorder._

MESSENGER. My lord, the Ghibelins are up--

LANCIOTTO. And I Will put them down again! I thank thee, Heaven, For this unlooked-for aid! [_Aside._

MALATESTA. What force have they?

LANCIOTTO. It matters not,--nor yet the time, place, cause, Of their rebellion. I would throttle it, Were it a riot, or a drunken brawl!

MALATESTA. Nay, son, your bride--

LANCIOTTO. My bride will pardon me; Bless me, perhaps, as I am going forth;-- Thank me, perhaps, if I should ne'er return. [_Aside._] A soldier's duty has no bridals in it.

PAOLO. Lanciotto, this is folly. Let me take Your usual place of honour.

LANCIOTTO. [_Laughing._] Ha! ha! ha! What! thou, a tilt-yard soldier, lead my troops! My wife will ask it shortly. Not a word Of opposition from the new-made bride? Nay, she looks happier. O! accursed day, That I was mated to an empty heart! [_Aside._

MALATESTA. But, son--

LANCIOTTO. Well, father?

PEPE. Uncle, let him go. He'll find it cooler on a battle-field Than in his--

LANCIOTTO. Hark! the fool speaks oracles. You, soldiers, who are used to follow me, And front our charges, emulous to bear The shock of battle on your forward arms,-- Why stand ye in amazement? Do your swords Stick to their scabbards with inglorious rust? Or has repose so weakened your big hearts, That you can dream with trumpets at your ears? Out with your steel! It shames me to behold Such tardy welcome to my war-worn blade! [_Draws._] [_The_ KNIGHTS _and_ SOLDIERS _draw._] Ho! draw our forces out! Strike camp, sound drums, And set us on our marches! As I live, I pity the next foeman who relies On me for mercy! Farewell! to you all-- To all alike--a soldier's short farewell! [_Going._]

[PAOLO _stands before him._]

Out of my way, thou juggler! [_Exit._

PAOLO. He is gone!