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Poto,

You pull my skirts.

Come quick. A waterman....

[Steadying himself against Vanozza.

Then tell me, Poto.... Let me know from you.

[He moans.

I cannot tell you more; he waits to speak.

[Poto supports the Pope to where the waterman Giorgio stands with an Inquisitor at the further end of the room.

[Suddenly coming to Vanozza.

Cesare!... Mother, we must cling to him.

Where is he? In these halls? It dazes me....

[Watching the Pope.

God’s image on the earth! I was profane....

And you a Princess, too! O my Giovanni!

You, all of you, are but as visitants;

You are enskied afar. Happy, unhappy mother!

Child! O sweet, floating hair against my cheek,

And your cold cheek....

Mother, but you were happy

When Cesar and Giovanni supped together?

I never saw them both more gay or fair;

They plagued each other like two golden lances

Crossed in the sunshine at a tournament—

And so till Cesare had warned the hour.

We must cling to him.