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Thy lavish bounty. I have heard dark tales
Of his apostacy. A renegade
Amid the Turks, who, in a Christian land,
Can think him less than demon? On my soul
He hath imprinted such a dread, I ne'er
Can taste or peace or comfort whilst he haunts
Our Paradise. Giovanni, give him gold;
Let him have all he asks, but send him hence.
Giovanni.
I do not laugh, Helena, at thy fears,
Though they are groundless.—Ask me not to play
A tyrant's part, and exile from the shed
Which he hath called his home, that much-wronged man.
Helena.
He is thine enemy, Giovanni.
Giovanni.
No;
And if he were, his sufferings might excuse
A hostile feeling.
