FIORDELISA (wringing her hands).
Woe's me!
MANFREDI.
What? Is the news so terrible?
FIORDELISA.
I've heard Brigitta, and my father, too,
Speak of the Duke Manfredi.
MANFREDI (aside).
Here 's a chance
To hear a genuine judgment of myself!
[To her.] They said—
FIORDELISA.
That he was cruel, bold, unsated
In thirst for evil pleasures,—it was odds
Whether more feared or hated in Faenza.
MANFREDI (aside).
Trust the crowd's garlic cheers and greasy caps!
The knaves shall know me worse ere they have done.
I thank you, pretty one,—I am the Duke!
FIORDELISA.
Then Heaven have mercy on me!
MANFREDI.
If report
Speak truth, your prayer were idle!—but report
Is a sad liar. Do I look the ogre
They painted to you? Nay, my fluttered dove,
Smooth but those ruffled feathers; look about you!
Is this so grim a dungeon? Was your couch
