58 
OR, THE ANGEL OF VENICE 
59 
 
But all the people’s favour flows, a tidy tide of gold, 
To us ;  and prudent as the Church, the wily Jews 
Leave Mortadello in the lurch.  What mischief brews 
In Gabriele’s cauldron mind there’s none can grasp ; 
But he stirs viciously.  I find he hopes success 
If he once clenches knobby fist on you. 
MONICA. 
May be ! 
I’ve many a turn and many a twist for such as he. 
Well, you and I will mock his spite. 
ORLANDO. 
 
A week will send 
The popular fury to its height.  The church will lend 
Secret support, through blame :  she hates the pride 
Of Mortadello, fans our flame, and swells our tide. 
Really, their hold upon the State slips every hour. 
Keep but the hounds at bay—— 
MONICA. 
 
Wait, wait—the key to power. 
Are we safe now ? 
ORLANDO. 
I hope so. 
MONICA. 
 
Then come hither and take 
Your right, most masterful of men. 
ORLANDO. 
I thirst to slake 
My being’s torment at your breast. 
MONICA. 
If earth be all, 
I have all heaven in the rest to be your thrall. 
If earth be naught, what heaven may give who knows or 
cares ? 
I only ask an hour to live—in these blue airs ! 
ORLANDO.  Ah, give me all ! 
MONICA. 
I am your slave.  Take all. 
ORLANDO. 
 
Ah Christ ! 
There is no man can content the grave.