_Duke_. (_after a moment, releasing her a little_). What's here? Ottilia! _Lucetta._ My mistress swoons! _A Courtier._ 'Tis happiness-- _Duke._ Fetch water! _Lucio._ Nay this blood-- Came of no scratch! _Lucetta._ Loosen her bodice-- _Duke._ Blood? Why blood? Where's blood? (_Stares as the mantle is imclasped and falls open_). Ah, my God! _Lucetta._ Murder! murder! The Countess Fulvia-- _Cesario._ Speak! _Lucetta._ There--while she knelt-- Stabbed her, and fled. _Cesario._ Which way? [_Lucetta points to the stairs. He dashes off in pursuit._ _Duke._ All-seeing God! Where were thine eyes, or else thy justice? Dead? O, never dead! _Lucio._ Ay, Duke, push God aside, As I push thee. I have the better right: I killed her--I. O never pass, sweet soul, Till thou hast drunk a shudder of this wretch, Thy brother, playmate, murderer! _Duke._ Wine! bring wine-- _Regent_ (_as the wine is brought and revives her_). Flower, he will crush thee--but the bliss, the bliss! I swim in bliss. What ... Lucio? Where's my lord? Dear, bring him: he was here awhile and held me. Say he must hold, or the light air will lift And bear me quite away. [_Re-enter Cesario. In one hand he carries his sword, in the other a dagger._ _Lucio._ Cesario! What! Is that devil escaped? To think--to think I drank her kisses!--What? Where is she? _Cesario._ Dead. I raised the cry: the people pointed after; Ran with me, ravening. Just this side the bridge She heard our howl and turned--drew back the dagger Red with our lady's blood, then drove it home Clean to her own black heart. _Regent._ God pardon her! I would what blood of mine clung to the blade Might mix with hers and sweeten it for mercy. _Lucio._ Will you forgive her? Then forgive not me! _Regent._ Dear Lucio!--You'll not pluck away your hand This time? Hush! Where's Cesario?... Friend, farewell. Where lies the body? _Cesario._ Sooth, madonna, I flung it To the river's will, to roll it down to sea Or cast on muddy bar, for dogs to gnaw. _Regent._ The river? Ah! How strong the river rolls! Hold me, my lord-- _Duke._ Love, love, I hold you _Regent._--Ay! The child, too--You will hold the child?... This roar Deafens but will not drown us. [_Within the Chapel the choir is chanting a dirge. Gamba goes and closes the door on the sound: then creeps to the foot of the couch. The dying woman gently motions aside the cross a priest is holding to her, and looks up at her husband._ [_Below the terrace a voice is heard singing the Rondinello song._ Look! beyond Be waters where no galley moves with oar, So wide, so waveless,--and, between the woods, Meadows--O land me there!... Hark, my lord's voice Singing in Vallescura! Soft my, love, I am so tired--so tired! Love, let me play! [_Dies._