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At the bottom of that river!

Nay, dear Holiness,

Has not this Giorgio seen a hundred times....

You think Giovanni lives?

God grant it!

He has ridden

Beyond the walls, at some castello wooing

Maiden or wife, since summer bans the chase;

A foolish pastime ’mid infested country!

But now the vineyards are as silken tents

For Amor’s camp. I am too precipitous

In passion: I must wait another night,

And then ... fold him again

Upon my heart! Go back, go back, my heart!

Patience! [He finds himself at the window. But see, there, see The lights are sailing to one point. Out yonder What is that spot of dusk?

The Ospedale.

A constellation!

Malign, bright stars! Giovanni! But the lights

Are moving onward to Sant’ Angelo.

They move along in state. It is my son!

They dazzle me.... They pass me....

Enter Monsignore Burchard.

Holy Father,

The illustrious Duke of Gandia has been found

In velvet coat and cloak, the dagger sheathed,