You remember, surely, The adventure with the corsair Barbarossa, And all that followed?
FRA SEBASTIANO.
A most strange adventure; A tale as marvellous and full of wonder As any in Boccaccio or Sacchetti; Almost incredible! IPPOLITO.
Were I a painter I should not want a better theme than that: The lovely lady fleeing through the night In wild disorder; and the brigands' camp With the red fire-light on their swarthy faces.
Could you not paint it for me?
FRA SEBASTIANO.
No, not I.
It is not in my line.
IPPOLITO.
Then you shall paint The portrait of the corsair, when we bring him A prisoner chained to Naples: for I feel Something like admiration for a man Who dared this strange adventure.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
I will do it.
But catch the corsair first.
IPPOLITO.
You may begin To-morrow with the sword.

Hassan, come hither; Bring me the Turkish scimitar that hangs Beneath the picture yonder.

Now unsheathe it.
'T is a Damascus blade; you see the inscription In Arabic: La Allah illa Allah,-- There is no God but God.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
How beautiful In fashion and in finish! It is perfect.
The Arsenal of Venice can not boast A finer sword.
IPPOLITO.
You like it?
It is yours.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
You do not mean it.
IPPOLITO.
I am not a Spaniard, To say that it is yours and not to mean it.
I have at Itri a whole armory Full of such weapons.

When you paint the portrait Of Barbarossa, it will be of use.
You have not been rewarded as you should be For painting the Gonzaga.

Throw this bauble Into the scale, and make the balance equal.
Till then suspend it in your studio; You artists like such trifles.
FRA SEBASTIANO.
I will keep it In memory of the donor.