Mortadello

32 MORTADELLO ZELINA. Cesspool of lust ! LUCREZIA. See, there’s a beggar might take pity And share his crust with you. ZELINA. You scour-pot of the city ! LUCREZIA. Take care ! ZELINA. Take care of what ? LUCREZIA. Of all your own diseases ! You poison air ; be off, and don’t pollute the breezes. ZELINA. Oh ! I’ll be gone. To talk to you is too degrading. Who ruined John of Padua ? How came Carlo’s roses fading ? How did the brave Bandello die ? I’ the lazar-hole, Cursing. LUCREZIA. You rave. ZELINA. Who sent black Straparola’s soul To hell ? Your knife. Who stabbed Bartolemmeo ? You LUCREZIA. Did Andrea’s wife not spit on you ? Who robbed the Jew She slept with ? Faugh ! my stomach turns. ZELINA. It shall, it shall ! Here’s all the law one gives to such an animal. [She stabs her ; LUCREZIA wards the blow, but is wounded in the breast. LUCREZIA. Oh ! I am killed. ZELINA. Farewell ! MORTADELLO enters from church. MORTADELLO. Hold ! seize them. What ! Are brawls Held and blood spilled beneath these venerable walls ? Take them away, and keep them safe, to wait my pleasure.