Читать книгу Borgia - Michael Field E. - Страница 143

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?