Mortadello

98 MORTADELLO Divinely tall and thin, the strings of the guitars Are not so slender as she, so tremulous and trim LORENZO. Oh buxom girls for me ! Well, I prefer them slim ! [To the lady beside him.] Here’s to your eyes, my dove ! [All appear startled and shocked. 2ND MASK. Take care, my lord, I hope You will not allow love to make you slight the Pope ! 1ST MASK. Then drink his Holiness, and get the business done. 2ND MASK. A pretty sort of mess you have just missed, my son ! LORENZO. Oh here’s the good old Pope, long may he live and reign ! And when he dies, I hope he may rise again. [All but MORTADELLO drink saying “ The Pope.” 2ND MASK. Easy, lad, easy. But, my lord, you do not drink ! MORTADELLO. It seems I’m bound to shut my mouth—but may I think ? 1ST MASK. What do you mean ? MORTADELLO. I mean—I will not tell you what. Pass round the wine. God’s teen ! Am I the Doge or not ? Here’s to the Pope ; I fear all is not right at Rome. We have a legate here that he might need at home. ALESSANDRO. I take your thought. A need at Rome for more divines ! The legate—well, God speed him through the Apennines ! 1ST MASK. But here the girls at last come swaying up the stair. And how their tresses cast faint fragrance on the air !