VITTORIA. 
                    You shall hear all
But first sit down and listen patiently
While I confess myself.

JULIA. 
                      What deadly sin
Have you committed?

VITTORIA. 
                  Not a sin; a folly
I chid you once at Ischia, when you told me
That brave Fra Bastian was to paint your portrait.

JULIA
Well I remember it.

VITTORIA. 
                  Then chide me now,
For I confess to something still more strange. 
Old as I am, I have at last consented
To the entreaties and the supplications
Of Michael Angelo—­

JULIA
                    To marry him?

VITTORIA. 
I pray you, do not jest with me!  You now,
Or you should know, that never such a thought
Entered my breast.  I am already married. 
The Marquis of Pescara is my husband,
And death has not divorced us.

JULIA. 
                           Pardon me. 
Have I offended you?

VITTORIA. 
                No, but have hurt me. 
Unto my buried lord I give myself,
Unto my friend the shadow of myself,
My portrait.  It is not from vanity,
But for the love I bear him.

JULIA. 
                             I rejoice
To hear these words.  Oh, this will be a portrait
Worthy of both of you! [A knock.

VITTORIA. 
                  Hark!  He is coming.

JULIA. 
And shall I go or stay?

VITTORIA. 
                     By all means, stay. 
The drawing will be better for your presence;
You will enliven me.

JULIA. 
                    I shall not speak;
The presence of great men doth take from me
All power of speech.  I only gaze at them
In silent wonder, as if they were gods,
Or the inhabitants of some other planet.

Enter MICHAEL ANGELO.

VITTORIA. 
Come in.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
          I fear my visit is ill-timed;
I interrupt you.

VITTORIA. 
                 No; this is a friend
Of yours as well as mine,—­the Lady Julia,
The Duchess of Trajetto.

MICHAEL ANGELO to JULIA. 
                        I salute you. 
’T is long since I have seen your face, my lady;
Pardon me if I say that having seen it,
One never can forget it.

JULIA. 
                         You are kind
To keep me in your memory.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                           It is
The privilege of age to speak with frankness. 
You will not be offended when I say
That never was your beauty more divine.

JULIA. 
When Michael Angelo condescends to flatter
Or praise me, I am proud, and not offended.

VITTORIA. 
Now this is gallantry enough for one;
Show me a little.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                 Ah, my gracious lady,
You know I have not words to speak your praise. 
I think of you in silence.  You conceal
Your manifold perfections from all eyes,
And make yourself more saint-like day by day. 
And day by day men worship you the wore. 
But now your hour of martyrdom has come. 
You know why I am here.