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THE SPAGNOLETTO.
269
MARIA (rising hastily).
Signer Lorenzo!
Again what would you with me?
LORENZO.
No such suit
As late I proffered, but your gracious pardon.
MARIA.
Rise, sir, forgiven. I, too, have been to blame,
Although less deeply than you deemed. For bear
To bind your life. I feel myself unworthy
Of that high station where your thoughts enthrone me.
Yet I dare call myself your friend.
[Offering him her hand, which LORENZO presses to his lips.
LORENZO.
Thanks, thanks!
Be blessed, and farewell. [Exit.
Enter Ribera, calling.
Daughter! Maria!
MARIA.
Why, father, I am here (kissing him). Goodday. What will you?
