And yet--yes, I came to you an hour ago--as patron. It is true. It was for his sake and for his great art I came. (_Voice singing outside._) Oh, I ask no favour now more than a little time to talk with him. That is his voice. I will persuade him. I will gain his consent, and he will do the picture for you--for your palace. Leave me, I beg, a few moments with him alone, and then return--to find--I promise it--the greatest painter in all Italy---- _Medici_ In all the world. _Lucia_ Prepared to give you of his best. [_Clasps her hands and stares into his face._ _Medici_ To have you in my palace so (_admiringly_) is, perhaps, the next best thing to--have you in my---- _Lucia_ Oh, I implore you. Leave me with him. (_Singing comes very close._) I promise. _Medici_ (_Shrugging._) You have chosen the one spell that moves me. Even more strong than the love of a fair woman is my love of art--its wonder, its beauty, and its triumph. His picture will outlive even your loveliness. (_Sighs._) My name and my great palace will remind a later world of me, and of what I did for beauty. Well, well, my Lady Lucia, you win me over--for the moment, at any rate. I will stand behind this screen and listen. I must hear how you persuade genius to abjure its principles! _Lucia_ (_Firmly._) Then I do nothing. You must first go. _Medici_ Another “must.” Your self-will is adorable. Upon my word! But I, too, have a “must”--his work, with yourself as model, on my palace ceiling! (_Yields with a sarcastic bow._) [_Exit._ [_LUCIA mounts the model’s throne and stands, arranging her drapery, as PAULO enters._ _Paulo_ (_Breathless; carries roses._) Only two! They were so dear. I have not your skill in bargains. (_Holds out roses._) We must make them do. (_Kisses her._) Have I been very long? I had to go nearly to the Zucca. _Lucia_ Two roses added to our love makes a whole garden. And one day soon you shall lack nothing the work needs. (_Tenderly._) Oh, Paulo, beloved, by rights everything should be yours now. There is not a painter in Italy who comes near you. _Paulo_ (_Quietly._) I shall win the Competition. We shall have plenty then. _Lucia_ (_Lower._) Your art needs it _now_. (_Sighs._) I am so useless to you--and yet---- _Paulo_ (_Looking._) And yet--? Lucia, this anxiety, this nervousness is strange to you. You use unaccustomed words. “Useless”! What can you mean? _Lucia_ You would never be angry--you would not scold me, no matter what I might do--for your work’s sake? _Paulo_ (_Passionately._) You have such darling moods. I love you. The work is ours, not mine. (_Caresses her._) I understand so well. It is your love that makes you tremble for the work’s sake: the picture grows, the Competition Day comes nearer. It’s like the sea-tides rising--it affects you--_I_ understand! _Lucia_