Waiting a guilty soul? [A pause.]
Canst thou not speak?
Or has this storm laid palsy on thy tongue,
And chilled thy utterance?
[The figure rises and takes off his mask.]

MORANZONE

Guido Ferranti,
Thy murdered father laughs for joy to-night.

GUIDO

[confusedly]
What, art thou here?

MORANZONE

Ay, waiting for your coming.

GUIDO

[looking away from him]
I did not think to see you, but am glad,
That you may know the thing I mean to do.

MORANZONE

First, I would have you know my well-laid plans;
Listen: I have set horses at the gate