86 
MORTADELLO 
 
MORTADELLO.  Ah, no !  by God I’m glad !  You are a sor-
ceress ! 
MONICA.  And all the pains I’ve had lead onward to success. 
MORTADELLO.  Where shall I lead you now ? 
MONICA. 
 
To my own house, I pray. 
MORTADELLO.  And will your love allow the word I have to 
say ? 
MONICA.  Ah, my lord, your fool will whisper by and by. 
I am faint yet—we rule in Venice, you and I ! 
[They go toward the door, her hand upon his shoulder, 
her face, turned away from him, illumined with 
a sinister smile.