At once.

[_Is going. He stops her._

_Moro._ Woman, this passes silence. There must be
Some question. Do you understand this wedding?
The evil that has risen in this house?
Do you?

_Alessa._ I may not speak.

_Moro._ And wherefore may not?

_Alessa._ I may not. It is best.

_Moro._ As says Yolanda,
Who is to-day impenetrable in all.
But who, now, in a lofty grief above
The misery that blasted her, seems calm,
And answers only,--
"God in His season will,
I trust, unfold it soon; I cannot, now!" ...
And yet I heard
Her darkly bid the Paphian be gone----
From here--without her.

_Alessa._ And he would not?

_Moro._ No.
Does she not see Amaury dangerous
For truth--which you conceal?

_Alessa._ The acolytes
Are waiting.

_Moro._ Go.... But if this hour brings forth
What you shall rue----

_Alessa._ Father!

[_Goes quickly, troubled._

_Moro._ In blindness still!
For Vittia Pisani, who alone
Seems with these twain to share this mystery
Is silent to all importunity.
Oh, Berengere Lusignan!--
But, 'tis mine
To pray and to prepare. (_Listens._) The acolytes.

[_Two enter, sleek, sanctimonious._

(_To Them._) Come here.... You're Serlio,
Of the Ascension. You?

_2nd Acolyte._ Hilarion.
From Santa Maria by the Templars' well,
Which God looks on with gratitude, father.
For though we're poor and are unworthy servants
We've given willingly our widow's mite.
And now we ...

_Moro._ You are summoned to this place
For ministrations other than the tongue's.
Prepare that altar--masses for the dead.

_Hilarion._ Man is as grass that withers!

_Moro._ Kindle all
Its tapers. The departed will be borne
Hither for holy care and sacred rest.
So do--then after
Look to that image of the Magdalen,
Once it has fallen.

_Serlio._ Domine, dirige!

[MORO _goes. They put off cant and set to work._

_Hilarion_ (_insolently, lighting a taper_).
We'll have good wine for this!

_