Degraded, lopped from off the fellowship
Of Christians like a rotten limb, proclaimed
The bastard that he is. She shall go with him,
Linked in a common infamy, haled round,
A female Judas, who betrayed her father,
Her God, her conscience, with a kiss. Her shadow
Shall be my curse. Cursed be her sleep by night,
Accursed her light by day her meat and drink !
Accursed the fruit of her own womb the grave
Where she will lie ! Cursed Oh, my child, my child !
DON TOMMASO.
Mine honored sir
BIBERA (looks up without rising).
Surely you mock me, signer.
Honored ! Yes, honored with a rifled home,
A desecrated hearth, a strumpet child.
For honors such as these, I have not stinted
Sweat, blood, or spirit through long years of toil.
I have passed through peril scathless ; I was spared
When Naples was plague-stricken ; I have scaped
Mine enemies stiletto fire and flood ;
I have survived my love, my youth, my self,
