VITTORIA. 
                     Ah yes, I know it,
And meet my fate with fortitude.  You find me
Surrounded by the labors of your hands: 
The Woman of Samaria at the Well,
The Mater Dolorosa, and the Christ
Upon the Cross, beneath which you have written
Those memorable words of Alighieri,
“Men have forgotten how much blood it costs.”

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
And now I come to add one labor more,
If you will call that labor which is pleasure,
And only pleasure.

VITTORIA. 
              How shall I be seated?

MICHAEL ANGELO, opening his portfolio.

Just as you are.  The light falls well upon you.

VITTORIA. 
I am ashamed to steal the time from you
That should be given to the Sistine Chapel. 
How does that work go on?

MICHAEL ANGELO, drawing. 
                         But tardily. 
Old men work slowly.  Brain and hand alike
Are dull and torpid.  To die young is best,
And not to be remembered as old men
Tottering about in their decrepitude.

VITTORIA. 
My dear Maestro! have you, then, forgotten
The story of Sophocles in his old age?

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
What story is it?

VITTORIA. 
           When his sons accused him,
Before the Areopagus, of dotage,
For all defence, he read there to his Judges
The Tragedy of Oedipus Coloneus,—­
The work of his old age.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                      ’T is an illusion
A fabulous story, that will lead old men
Into a thousand follies and conceits.

VITTORIA. 
So you may show to cavilers your painting
Of the Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel.

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
Now you and Lady Julia shall resume
The conversation that I interrupted.

VITTORIA. 
It was of no great import; nothing more
Nor less than my late visit to Ferrara,
And what I saw there in the ducal palace. 
Will it not interrupt you?

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
                         Not the least.

VITTORIA. 
Well, first, then, of Duke Ercole:  a man
Cold in his manners, and reserved and silent,
And yet magnificent in all his ways;
Not hospitable unto new ideas,
But from state policy, and certain reasons
Concerning the investiture of the duchy,
A partisan of Rome, and consequently
Intolerant of all the new opinions.

JULIA. 
I should not like the Duke.  These silent men,
Who only look and listen, are like wells
That have no water in them, deep and empty. 
How could the daughter of a king of France
Wed such a duke?

MICHAEL ANGELO. 
         The men that women marry
And why they marry them, will always be
A marvel and a mystery to the world.