Mortadello

16 MORTADELLO MONICA. I fear to set the tune ; I fear to cast the throw. ORLANDO. Set back the rising moon ! Fate marches : who says no ? Death broods upon the tide, and love beams far and wide ; You my betrothèd bride—athwart her corpse I stride ! Hide there beneath the porch ! I’ll strike upon the bell, Kindle the fatal torch to light her soul to hell. [He strikes the bell. MAGDALENA appears at the window, dressed. My Magdalena ! You are ready ? Love’s the tune ! Bare me your beauty to the night and the lagoon ! MAGDALENA. I am ready. [She disappears. ORLANDO. To meet God ! your sulky soul must glide In a darker boat than mine, and cross a colder tide. [MAGDALENA opens the door, and comes out. MAGDALENA. See ! but a silken shawl between you and your lover ! [She opens it, spreading her arms to enfold him. ORLANDO. Between you and your thrall what mysteries uncover ! MAGDALENA. What do you mean ? ORLANDO. Behold this crater-cup concealed. A flower of dusky gold upon the lilied field ! [He stoops and kisses her upon the navel. MAGDALENA. Ay ! I have prayed what once fair Theodora prayed, Depth for such orisons as may content a maid. ORLANDO. Your prayer is heard. MAGDALENA. Is heard ? ORLANDO. God grant me grace of guilt ! Here is my final word—this dagger to the hilt ! [He stabs her in the navel.