LIZZIA

Not so, Lady, but he--

VIOLANTE

Tell him, then, Our friend Boccaccio, the story-teller, Has shaped a brave device against the Plague....

Before the sun climbs higher into day And the night's Dead are heaped up in the streets For buriers and priests to draw away, A group of goodly ladies and gentlemen Go forth to a sequestered country place Remote from Florence and invisible Death.

There, in green gardens full of birds and leaves, The blue, cloud-wandering heaven spread above, We shall beguile the time with merriment, Music and song and telling of many tales, Trusting that Death, glutted with mult.i.tudes, Will pa.s.s us by.... We need but Florio To bring our perfect pleasure to the brim.

LIZZIA [_obstinately_]

But he will see no one, Lady, not even you.

He is--he is--

VIOLANTE

Not smitten by the Plague?

LIZZIA [_hesitating_]

Nay, he has taken a vow of close seclusion.

VIOLANTE [_confidently_]

But he knows not I am here--the Lady Violante! [_A pause_.]

[_Impetuously_] Go, tell him it is I,-- Nor take upon yourself such high command!

LIZZIA [_somewhat resentfully_]

I am a servant, I only do as he commanded me....

[_Barring way_.]

VIOLANTE [_distractedly_]

Strange that he should so change in ten days' s.p.a.ce.

[_With pa.s.sionate abandonment_]

Old woman, go this instant--summon him!

I will abide your crabbed ways no longer.

LIZZIA [_stung to retaliation_]

Lady, he would not look upon your face If you made him ruler of the world for it.

VIOLANTE [_flaming_]

What new freak of his is this?

He is as full of moods as any woman....

But I had never thought-- [_Determined_]

I will go to him!

LIZZIA [_again barring way_]

I could tell you many things, But I would spare you.

VIOLANTE

Spare me!... you insolent, presumptuous old woman, What have I, I, the Lady Violante Ugolini, To do with your good master, Florio, Beyond a fostering friendship for his song!

Else he were nothing to me....

You are presuming on your age and service-- He shall rebuke you for this....

LIZZIA

Very well, Lady, if you must know-- He has sworn that he will look upon no one Till he behold--Olivia!

VIOLANTE [_startled_]

Olivia!... who is Olivia?

LIZZIA

She is a girl who came from Padua Hither, to flee the Plague ... and fled in vain.

He has loved her just ten days ... since first she came....

She came to him, a stranger, singing songs-- His songs!

VIOLANTE

And flattering him so--he loved her!

LIZZIA

Nay, she was beautiful, my n.o.ble lady,-- Surpa.s.sing wonderful.... "His shining dream Of ivory and gold," he called her....