except one woman, That was at night time, in the public streets. Poor soul, she walked with painted lips, and wore The mask of pleasure: I would not laugh like her; No, death were better. [Enter Guido behind unobserved; the Duchess flings herself down before a picture of the Madonna.] Guido Duchess O Mary mother, with your sweet pale face Bending between the little angel heads That hover round you, have you no help for me? Mother of God, have you no help for me? Guido Guido I can endure no longer. This is my love, and I will speak to her. Lady, am I a stranger to your prayers? Duchess [rising] Duchess None but the wretched needs my prayers, my lord. Guido Guido Then must I need them, lady. Duchess Duchess How is that? Does not the Duke show thee sufficient honour? Guido Guido Your Grace, I lack no favours from the Duke, Whom my soul loathes as I loathe wickedness, But come to proffer on my bended knees, My loyal service to thee unto death.
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