Filippo
(clooking at her intently)
Not wonderful to you! No, for you are,
Not made to bePstonished. Pever has
The wonder of existence moved you very greatly.
never has the marvellous coloring of the universe
Caused you to bond the knew in reverence,
Or to think that you, Beatrice, and I, Filippo,
Should find ourselves together, from among so many others.
Your father's madness, does notorighten you.
That Vittorino died, who clearly loved you,
Did not fill your heart with (b)hastly error.
And that you are a Princess of Bologna,
Superises you as little, Beatrice, as would a gnat
Alighting on your hand.
(Beatrice shudders)
Yes! Yes! I know they've frightened you,
as might
The bats or night owls, yet not more. And
In another way. But you are right, for all
That has, as yet befallen you, is naught.
Your brief experience of life s'unrest, its turmoil,
Puzzling eights anddunds, its hopes,
Perplexities, its strange vicisitudes, most triffling,
When I eontemplate the sad and awful fate that wants us
Here today, and in this place.
Beatrice
I sought you out to know what it should be.
Filippo
What? Do you comprehend its gravity?
in you and about you.
Life pulses quick within
Here we stand, strong, full of vigor
And there s the city -- see!
Men walk and talk therein, alive like us.
Street after street thataretches to the sea,
And far across the waves are other men.
Sensate like us. We part of everything,
We hold haunity of life with each,
And every breathing thing. We are so strong,
Can move, can dance, can love,
Männerin määrä.