LORENZO.
If my defect
Be an hereditary grain i’ the blood,
Even as you say, I must abide by it;
But if patrician habits more than birth
Beget such faults, then may I dare to hope.
Not mine, I knew, I felt, to clear new paths,
To win new kingdoms ; yet were I content
With such achievement as a strenuous will,
A firm endeavor, an unfaltering love,
And an unwearying spirit might attain.
Cast me not lightly back. Banish me not
From this, my home of hope, of inspiration!
MARIA.
What, my ungentle father! Will you hear,
And leave this worthy signer’s suit unanswered?
RIBERA.
Well, he may bide. Sir, I will speak with you
Anon upon this work. I judged in haste.
Yea, it hath merit. I am weary now;
To-morrow I shall be in fitter mood
To give you certain hints.
- [Lorenzo bows his thanks and advances to address Maria. Ribera silences and dismisses him with a wave of the hand. Exit Lorenzo.
