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Of the Lord Duke to certify—his mule

Was found hard by the Palace Barbarini.

[To Poto.] My lad, my lad! We know what beauty there Looks into Tiber like the moon! I thank you For your devotion.

Shall we still further search?

Expressly, till the recreant be slain.

He dies within my thoughts a several death

Each time I front the dark where he is lost.

God damn him deeper every day! Search, search!

[Exit Governor.

His mule, and at that spot! Gaspare, breathe around

The Palace, bribe the women. If a stab

From jealousy—we stop the inquisition.

Mea culpa, mea culpa!

Enter the Lord Francesco Borgia.

O Francesco,

What do you bear so carefully—the Host?

Nay, but a little food.

I cannot eat.

Gaspare, bear it from the room. Go all

Away from me!

[Exeunt all save Cardinal Borgia, who quietly remains.

Cousin, you wait for news?

It is too true

The boy has perished by his father’s sins.

I must make expiation for his lust:

I have lived ill. Before the Consistory