lord, we waste our breath.
Let us look fortune in the face, and draw
Such comfort from the wanton as we may.

CARDINAL. And yet I fear--

GUIDO. You fear! and so do I.
I fear Lanciotto as a soldier, though,
More than a son-in-law.

CARDINAL. But have you seen him?

GUIDO. Ay, ay, and felt him, too. I've seen him ride
The best battalions of my horse and foot
Down like mere stubble: I have seen his sword
Hollow a square of pikemen, with the ease
You'd scoop a melon out.

CARDINAL. Report declares him
A prodigy of strength and ugliness.

GUIDO. Were he the devil--But why talk of this?--
Here comes Francesca.

CARDINAL. Ah! unhappy child!

GUIDO. Look you, my lord! you'll make the best of it;
You will not whimper. Add your voice to mine,
Or woe to poor Ravenna!

_Enter_ FRANCESCA _and_ RITTA.

FRANCESCA. Ha! my lord--
And you, my father!--But do I intrude
Upon your counsels? How severe you look!
Shall I retire?

GUIDO. No, no.

FRANCESCA. You moody men
Seem leagued against me. As I passed the hall,
I met your solemn Dante, with huge strides
Pacing in measure to his stately verse.
The sweeping sleeves of his broad scarlet robe
Blew out behind, like wide-expanded wings,
And seemed to buoy him in his level flight.
Thinking to pass, without disturbing him,
I stole on tip-toe; but the poet paused,
Subsiding into man, and steadily
Bent on my face the lustre of his eyes.
Then, taking both my trembling hands in his--
You know how his God-troubled forehead awes--
He looked into my eyes, and shook his head,
As if he dared not speak of what he saw;
Then muttered, sighed, and slowly turned away
The weight of his intolerable brow.
When I glanced back, I saw him, as before,
Sailing adown the hall on out-spread wings.
Indeed, my lord, he should not do these things;
They strain the weakness of mortality
A jot too far. As for poor Ritta, she
Fled like a doe, the truant.

RITTA. Yes, forsooth:
There's something terrible about the man.
Ugh! if he touched me, I should turn to ice.
I wonder if Count Lanciotto looks--

GUIDO. Ritta, come here. [_Takes her apart._

RITTA. My lord.

GUIDO. 'Twas my command,
You should say nothing of Count Lanciotto.

RITTA. Nothing, my lord.

GUIDO.