Lutwyche! Who else? But all of them, no doubt, Hated me: they at Venice--presently Their turn, however! You I shall not meet: If I dreamed, saying this would wake me. Keep What's here, the gold--we cannot meet again, Consider! and the money was but meant For two years' travel, which is over now, All chance or hope or care or need of it. This--and what comes from selling these, my casts And books and medals, except ... let them go Together, so the produce keeps you safe Out of Natalia's clutches! If by chance (For all's chance here) I should survive the gang At Venice, root out all fifteen of them, We might meet somewhere, since the world is wide. [_From without is heard the voice of_ PIPPA, _singing--_ _Give her but a least excuse to love me! When--where-- How--can this arm establish her above me, If fortune fixed her as my lady there, There already, to eternally reprove me? ("Hist!"--said Kate the Queen; But "Oh!" cried the maiden, binding her tresses, "'T is only a page that carols unseen, Crumbling your hounds their messes!")_ _Is she wronged?--To the rescue of her honor, My heart! Is she poor?--What costs it to be styled a donor? Merely an earth to cleave, a sea to part. But that fortune should have thrust all this upon her! ("Nay, list!"--bade Kate the Queen; And still cried the maiden, binding her tresses, "'T is only a page that carols unseen, Fitting your hawks their jesses!")_ [PIPPA _passes._ JULES _resumes._