Riccio: Every mile of it is abominable. But I stay, eagerly.
Mary: Why?
Riccio: It is adorable of you to answer so yourself.
Mary: Your wit survives.
Riccio: But you shall not steal my pleasure. You ask, to hear me say it. Yes—I beg—it is so. I stay because the compass moves with you. The south has all the enchantments of the heart; there are the spices and the music. I can breathe only there; life is valuable only in that zone of supreme devotions. And where you are, is the south. That is why I stay. It's the answer you foresaw?
Mary: Riccio, with so many advantages. And yet—man, could I but speak for you!
Riccio: I need no ambassadors. Madam.
Mary: But you do, Riccio. I could prompt you—but, no.
Riccio: My phrases lack—ah, they grow rusty in these damp airs.
Mary: The phrases are well enough. They would pass in the most elegant of courts, David. Or you should take them to my sister, Eliza-
