FRANCESCA.  I have angered you.

PAOLO.  With reason:  I would not appear to you
Low or contemptible.

  FRANCESCA.  Why not to me?

  PAOLO.  Lady, I’ll not be catechized.

  FRANCESCA.  Ha!  Count!

PAOLO.  No! if you press me further, I will say
A word to madden you.—­Stand still!  You stray
Around the margin of a precipice. 
I know what pleasure ’tis to pluck the flowers
That hang above destruction, and to gaze
Into the dread abyss, to see such things
As may be safely seen.  Tis perilous: 
The eye grows dizzy as we gaze below,
And a wild wish possesses us to spring
Into the vacant air.  Beware, beware! 
Lest this unholy fascination grow
Too strong to conquer!

FRANCESCA.  You talk wildly, Count;
There’s not a gleam of sense in what you say;
I cannot hit your meaning.

  PAOLO.  Lady, come!

  FRANCESCA.  Count, you are cruel! [Weeps.

PAOLO.  O! no; I would be kind. 
But now, while reason over-rides my heart,
And seeming anger plays its braggart part—­
In heaven’s name, come!

FRANCESCA.  One word—­one question more: 
Is it your wish this marriage should proceed?

  PAOLO.  It is.

FRANCESCA.  Come on!  You shall not take my hand: 
I’ll walk alone—­now, and forever!

  PAOLO. [Taking her hand.] Sister!

    [Exeunt PAOLO and FRANCESCA, with PAGES.

RITTA.  O! misery, misery!—­it is plain as day—­
She loves Paolo!  Why will those I love
Forever get themselves ensnared, and heaven
Forever call on me to succor them? 
Here was the mystery, then—­the sighs and tears,
The troubled slumbers, and the waking dreams! 
And now she’s walking through the chapel-door,
Her bridal robe above an aching heart,
Dressed up for sacrifice.  Tis terrible! 
And yet she’ll smile and do it.  Smile, for years,
Until her heart breaks; and the nurses ask
The doctor of the cause.  He’ll answer, too,
In hard thick Latin, and believe himself. 
O! my dear mistress!  Heaven, pray torture me! 
Send back Giuseppe, let him ruin me,
And scorn me after; but, sweet heaven, spare her! 
I’ll follow her.  O! what a world is this! [Exit.

SCENE III.

The Same.  Interior of the Cathedral. LANCIOTTO, FRANCESCA, PAOLO, MALATESTA, GUIDO, RITTA, PEPE, LORDS, KNIGHTS, PRIESTS, PAGES, a bridal-train of LADIES, SOLDIERS, CITIZENS, ATTENDANTS, etc., discovered before the High Altar.  Organ music.  The rites being over, they advance.

  MALATESTA.  By heaven—­

  PEPE.  O! uncle, uncle, you’re in church!