TORELLI.
And sharper in the teeth. I wonder much
She leaves Faenza, knowing her Manfredi
So general a lover.
ASCOLTI.
She leaves Faenza.
TORELLI.
So they say,—to-morrow
Rides to Bologna to her grim old father,
Giovanni Bentivoglio.
ASCOLTI.
To complain
Of her hot-blooded husband?
TORELLI.
Nay, I know not;
Enough, she goes, and—fair dame as she is—
A murrain go with her, say I. There never
Was good time in Faenza, since she came
To spoil sport with her jealousy. Manfredi
Will be himself again when she is hence.
ASCOLTI.
Hush! here she comes—
ORDELAFFI.
With that misshapen imp,
Bertuccio. Gibing devil! I shall thrust
My dagger down his throat, one of these days!
TORELLI.
Call him a jester? He laughs vitriol!
ASCOLTI.
Spares nothing; cracks his random scurrile quips
Upon my master, great Lorenzo's self.
