The time may come when we may live in peace,
And walk together free, under free heaven
But that cannot be here—nor now!
FIORDELISA.
Oh, when—
When shall that time arrive?
BERTUCCIO (bitterly).
When what I live for
Has been achieved!
FIORDELISA (timidly).
What you live for?
BERTUCCIO (with sudden ferocity).
Revenge!
FIORDELISA (averting her eyes with horror).
Oh, do not look so, father!
BERTUCCIO.
Listen, girl,
You asked me of your mother; it is time
You should know why all questioning of her
Racks me to madness. Look upon me, child;
Misshapen as I am, there once was one,
Who, seeing me despised, mocked, lonely, poor,
Loved me, I think, most for my misery;
Thy mother, like thee, just so pure, so sweet.
I was a public notary in Cesena;
Our life was humble, but so happy; thou
Wert in thy cradle then, and many a night
Thy mother and I sat hand-in-hand together,
Watching thine innocent smiles, and building up
Long plans of joy to come!
