Maddalo, A Courtier. Malpiglio, A Poet. Pigna, A Minister. Albano, An Usher. Maddalo: No Access To The Duke! You Have Not Said That The Count Maddalo Would Speak With Him? Pigna: Did You Inform His Grace That Signor Pigna Waits With State Papers For His Signature? Malpiglio: The Lady Leonora Cannot Know That I Have Written A Sonnet To Her Fame, In Which I ... Venus And Adonis. You Should Not Take My Gold And Serve Me Not. Albano: In Truth I Told Her, And She Smiled And Said, 'If I Am Venus, Thou, Coy Poesy, Art The Adonis Whom I Love, And He The Erymanthian Boar That Wounded Him.' O Trust To Me, Signor Malpiglio, Those Nods And Smiles Were Favours Worth The Zechin. Malpiglio: The Words Are Twisted In Some Double Sense That I Reach Not: The Smiles Fell Not On Me. Pigna: How Are The Duke And Duchess Occupied? Albano: Buried In Some Strange Talk. The Duke Was Leaning, His Finger On His Brow, His Lips Unclosed. The Princess Sate Within The Window-Seat, And So Her Face Was Hid; But On Her Knee Her Hands Were Clasped, Veined, And Pale As Snow, And Quivering - Young Tasso, Too, Was There. Maddalo: Thou Seest On Whom From Thine Own Worshipped Heaven Thou Drawest Down Smiles - They Did Not Rain On Thee. Malpiglio: Would They Were Parching Lightnings For His Sake On Whom They Fell!