_Vittia._ Tell? ... vowing him first To win his father's lenience?... No ... I see! You will when she who's guilty And this enamoured Paphian are fled!
When they are fled! ha.... And it is too late.
_Yolanda._ Too--? (_stunned_). You by a trick--some trick have--!
_Vittia._ Hindered? Little I needed.... Her wings are flightless. She is ill, Verging--go learn!--to death.
_Vittia._ To the grave. And you alone, she knows, can put it far-- Since she is numbed and drained Momently by the terror of her husband, Whose every pulse seems to her a suspicion.
_Yolanda._ And it is you ... you who have urged again His doubt that would have sunk!
_Vittia._ It was enough Merely to sigh--and fear her innocence Can only seem simple as dew again If you wed freely Camarin of Paphos.
_Yolanda._ And that you could! though in her heart remorse Trampled and tore! Though with the wounds of battle he you "love" Is livid still.
_Vittia._ And grieves?--Be comforted! For _he_ is--now security has come.
_Yolanda._ Amaury!... Oh! My father's gift--so desecrated? So?-- Ah, you are merciless!
_Vittia._ Only aware How to compel your pity to my ends; For you will spare his mother.
_Yolanda._ Yielding--still, And past all season of recovery? Shattering love for ever at my feet? No, you are duped. For empty, cold are the veins Now of submission in me; numb and dead The pleading of it. And upon you, back, I cast the burden of your cruelty.
And--if she dies in terror of the lips Of Renier Lusignan--on your peace The guilt be!
_Vittia_ (_moved_). Liar, on her own; for she has sinned.
_Vittia._ I say her own. I've done no crime. And you will wed him.
_Yolanda._ Or, ... Venetian-- Wed you to Remorse! For there at the gates that guard your rest you hear Dim now the risen phantom cries of it, The presage beat of them like hungry hands That will o'erwhelm you! All that I could to spare her I have done; All that was duty and of love the most. But you it was who struck and kindled first Within lord Renier fire of suspicion. And you it is-- Since in the worst that live there yet is heaven!-- Must null his doubt and ease the sobbing ebb And flood of her sick spirit; you who must Go to his fear and with persuasion say That it is folly of him and of you So to suspect her, since in Camarin's Arms I was found. You will!