_Isotta_ (_at length, from the couch, gathering strength_).

No, I have come for saving, Giorgione.

Now I can speak--but there is little time, (_Strangely_) For Night is coming.

_Giorgione_ (_startled to questioning_). Isotta?

_Isotta._ The still Night, With Death's dark Gondola to waft me o'er.

[_Then as he realizes._

Nay, stay, stay! leave me not. There is no help.

For it must be.... A voice Beyond has said it.

And ere I drift out on the darkening ebb----

_Giorgione._ Isotta!

_Isotta._ Peace must be Giorgione's too.

_Giorgione._ Speak--yet it cannot be--my heart is dead.

_Isotta._ Then it shall rise again.--O Giorgione, My lover once and lord, could you believe, Even tho I went away from you and with Another, that unchast.i.ty could touch This body which had been holy to you?

_Giorgione._ Isotta!

_Isotta._ It is true that I deceived you,

[_With mystic fervor._

True that I went away from you and wed Another----

_Giorgione._ Ah!

_Isotta._ And yet it was not Luzzi!

[_As he gazes._

Do you not know? you who so oft have told On saintly walls the Magdalen's sad tears?

Sin, sin had seized me!

Sin with you to whom I gave my body and soul unboundedly.

We revelled in unwedded ecstasy, Laughed in our love over the starred lagoons.

Sang till the lute was like a thing that lived, Danced happy as the fauns and nereids That oft you told me of-- And clasped and kissed, O kissed--until I knew that but one way Was left to save my soul, Giorgione, one-- To wed me with the vows and veil to Christ.

[_Gazes at a crucifix._

_Giorgione._ Isotta!

_Isotta._ I am His! I fled to Him!

The Convent opened its grey arms to take me, Santa Cecilia of the Healing Heart, And Luzzi kindly led me to its door-- That you might so be foiled of following.

And with long vigils, fasts and penances And prayers I sought oblivion of your face.

Until this illness strangely fell upon me.

I could not die until you, shriven too....

_Giorgione._ Isotta! My Isotta!

[_Falls penitent before her, weeping._

_Isotta_ (_her heart eased_). Peace, at last.

_Giorgione_ (_rising_). Ah yes! and I am viler than the vilest!

For who remembers not that purity Is priceless, ends impoverished of honour.

And yet ... there is no wrong irreparable!

And you must live tho all the angels die-- Live and be loosed from vows too vainly breathed, That wedded we may win again delight!

Still I am Giorgione, and the sin That we have sinned shall be painted away With holy pictures ...

_Isotta._ Only the dead are holy, Or they who die, tho living, to the world.

[_Sees the picture._

And eyes have looked upon me-- Hot eyes that burn my body up with shame.

Farewell, the tide will cool me, the lone wave That washes in from Lido to my grave.

[_Looks toward the Campo Santo._

_Giorgione._ Isotta!

_Isotta_ (_fainter_). Night, the Night!...

_Giorgione._ O stay!...

_Isotta_ (_in a fixed vision_) It comes, The Gondola! (_as if to an unseen Presence_) Row on, row on.

[_She dies. He sinks beside her stricken and still._

_GIGIA enters._

_Gigia._ Messer Giorgione, one has come to say----

[_Sees them, goes near and lifts ISOTTA'S hand. Then, dropping it with terror._

The plague! the plague! Ah!

_Giorgione_ (_rising_). Woman, is it true?

[_GIGIA flees._

(_Mortally moved_) Isotta, this kiss then of all the kisses That I have slain thee with will G.o.d who dwells In universal chast.i.ty forgive.

[_He kneels and presses his lips fervently to hers._