LADY GIOVANNA (_after pause_).
How long since do you say?
COUNT.
That was the very year before you married.
LADY GIOVANNA.
When I was married you were at the wars.
COUNT.
Had she not thrown my chaplet on the grass,
It may be I had never seen the wars.
[_Replaces wreath whence he had taken it_.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Ah, but, my lord, there ran a rumour then
That you were kill'd in battle. I can tell you
True tears that year were shed for you in Florence.
COUNT.
It might have been as well for me. Unhappily
I was but wounded by the enemy there
And then imprison'd.
LADY GIOVANNA.
Happily, however,
I see you quite recover'd of your wound.
COUNT.
No, no, not quite, Madonna, not yet, not yet.
_Re-enter_ FILIPPO.
FILIPPO.
My lord, a word with you.
COUNT.
Pray, pardon me!
[LADY GIOVANNA _crosses, and passes behind chair and
takes down wreath; then goes to chair by table_.
COUNT (_to_ FILIPPO).
What is it, Filippo?
FILIPPO.
Spoons, your lordship.
COUNT.
Spoons!
FILIPPO.
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