Charles: True, Fulvia—as titles go.
Fulvia: My lord——
Charles: Twice—but I'm not two lords.
Fulvia: To-night
I think you are. But quench your jests.
Charles: In tears?
And groans? Where borrow them?
Fulvia (turning away): So let it be.
Charles: Why do you say so be it and sigh as
Nought could again be well?
Fulvia: O——
Charles: Now you frown?
Fulvia: The hope you nurse, then, if it prove a pang
Of serpent bitterness——