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THE SPAGNOLETTO.
255
Let the rich blush born of that dear confession
Again dye cheek and brow, and fade and melt
Forever, even as then.
MARIA.
We are watched, my lord. This is no place, no hour, for words like these.
DON JOHN.
When, where then, may we meet?
[They pass on.
SCENE II.
The Palace Gardens. Interrupted sounds of music and revelry come through the open windows of the ball-room, seen in the background. Rivera, pacing the stage, occasionally pausing to look in upon the dancers.
RIBERA.
This is revenge. Is she not beautiful,
Ye gods ? The beggar s child matched with a prince!
Throb not so high, my heart, neath envious eyes
Fixed on thy triumph ! Now am I well repaid
For my slow, martyred years. Was I not wrung
By keener tortures than my savage brush,
Though dipped in my heart s blood, might reproduce!
