Of courtly gossip, touching me as nigh
As the dissensions of the antipodes.
GENTLEMAN.
Done for a hundred florins ! In the night,
Midst the wild storm whose roar must have invaded
Even thy leaden sleep, Prince John left Naples.
We should have had a pageant here to-day,
A royal exit, floral arches thrown
From house to house in all the streets he passed,
Music and guards of honor, homage fitting
The son of Philip but the bird has flown.
LORENZO.
So ! I regret our busy citizens,
Who sun themselves day-long upon the quays,
Should be deprived of such a festival.
Your wager s lost how am I moved by this ?
GENTLEMAN.
Hark to the end. ’T would move all men whose veins
Flow not clear water. He hath carried off
The Rose of Naples.
LORENZO.
What wouldst thou say? Speak out!
In God s name, who hath followed him?
