_Boy_.

No; my mother Came from those parts. She used to sing the song.

I do not understand it well myself, For I was born in Genoa.--Ah! my mother!

[_Weeps_.]

_Julian_.

My mother was a German, my poor boy; My father was Italian: I am like you.

[_Giving him money_.]

You sing of leaves and sunshine, flowers and bees, Poor child, upon a stone in the dark street!

_Boy_.

My mother sings it in her grave; and I Will sing it everywhere, until I die.

SCENE XIII.--LILIA'S _room_. JULIAN _enters with the child; undresses her, and puts her to bed_.

_Lily_.

Father does all things for his little Lily.

_Julian_.

My own dear Lily! Go to sleep, my pet.

[_Sitting by her_.]

"Wenn ich seh' und h.o.r.e dich, Das genugt mir inniglich."

[_Falling on his knees_.]

I come to thee, and, lying on thy breast, Father of me, I tell thee in thine ear, Half-shrinking from the sound, yet speaking free, That thou art not enough for me, my G.o.d.

Oh, dearly do I love thee! Look: no fear Lest thou shouldst be offended, touches me.

Herein I know thy love: mine casts out fear.

O give me back my wife; thou without her Canst never make me blessed to the full.

[_Silence_.]

O yes; thou art enough for me, my G.o.d; Part of thyself she is, else never mine.

My need of her is but thy thought of me; She is the offspring of thy beauty, G.o.d; Yea of the womanhood that dwells in thee: Thou wilt restore her to my very soul.

[_Rising_.]

It may be all a lie. Some needful cause Keeps her away. Wretch that I am, to think One moment that my wife could sin against me!

She will come back to-night. I know she will.

I never can forgive my jealousy!

Or that fool-visit to lord Seaford's house!

[_His eyes fall on the glove which the child still holds in her sleeping hand. He takes it gently away, and hides it in his bosom_.]

It will be all explained. To think I should, Without one word from her, condemn her so!

What can I say to her when she returns?

I shall be utterly ashamed before her.

She will come back to-night. I know she will.

[_He throws himself wearily on the bed_.]

SCENE XIV.--_Crowd about the Italian Opera-House_. JULIAN. LILY _in his arms. Three_ Students.

_1st Student_.

Edward, you see that long, lank, thread-bare man?

There is a character for that same novel You talk of thunder-striking London with, One of these days.

_2nd St_.

I scarcely noticed him; I was so taken with the lovely child.

She is angelic.

_3rd St_.

You see angels always, Where others, less dim-sighted, see but mortals.

She is a pretty child. Her eyes are splendid.

I wonder what the old fellow is about.

Some crazed enthusiast, music-distract, That lingers at the door he cannot enter!

Give him an obol, Frank, to pay old Charon, And cross to the Elysium of sweet sounds.

Here's mine.

_1st St_.

And mine.

_2nd St_.

And mine.

[_3rd Student offers the money to_ JULIAN.]

_Julian_ (_very quietly_).

No, thank you, sir.

_Lily_.

Oh! there is mother!

[_Stretching-her hands toward a lady stepping out of a carriage_.]

_Julian_.

No, no; hush, my child!

[_The lady looks round, and _LILY _clings to her father_.