Mortadello

OR, THE ANGEL OF VENICE 9 She has heaven’s voice whose silence drowns earth’s crazy cries— MORTADELLO. You are nervous, sweetheart, MAGDALENA. When she frowns, my spirit dies. MORTADELLO. Then, before God, I swear it, she shall drink of steel ! I go now to give order. Be at peace. MAGDALENA. I will. And so good night. My hand is yours to bend and kiss. Let its blood pulse what breast allures to burning bliss. I would—I would—I know not what I would. But you Divine it. MORTADELLO. Ah ! MAGDALENA. The night is hot, no wind beats through The hushed canals. So is my heart—for you, my lord, My excellent lord ! and so—to part. MORTADELLO. Draw out my sword ! [She does so. So, sweet, while faintest fear can threat my troth-plight wife Shall its blade quiver and ache and fret to have her life. Be reassured. MAGDALENA. Death sits, your vassal, in your eyes. MORTADELLO. I swear by Mary and the Mass, your rival dies. MAGDALENA. Then go, my knight and king. I love you. MORTADELLO. Queen, good-night ! [He steps from the gondola. MAGDALENA. God and his angels watch above you. MORTADELLO. At the light You may expect my news. MAGDALENA. Strike swift and sure and subtle ! Snap the pale thread, my wedding gift Fate’s empty shuttle !