[_She passes down the steps as Lucetta runs in.]_

_Lucetta._ Madam! Madam!
The Duke is at the gate--Madam!--
Christ! she is murdered! Murder! Murder!

_Regent._ Fie,
Lucetta! peace! What word to greet the Duke
For his home-coming! Lift me ... Quick, my robe--
My Crown! Call no one. O, but hasten!

_Lucetta_ (_helpless, wringing her hands_). Madam!

_Regent._ I need your strength, and must I steady you?
Lucetta, years ago you disarrayed me
Upon my bridal night. I would you'd whisper
The rogueries your tongue invented then.
I have few moments, girl ... I'd have them wanton.
Make jest this mantle hides the maid I was.
I'll have no priest, no doctor--Fetch Tonino!
I must present his son--
[_Lucetta runs out._
All's acted quick:
Bride-bed, conception, birth--and death! But he
Shall sum it in one moment death not takes ...
What noise of trumpets!... Is the wound not covered?

[_She wraps herself carefully in her mantle as the
courtiers pour in. The child Tonino runs to