Fulvia: You with him walked to-day. What said he?
Antonio: I?
With him to-day? Ah, true. What may be done?
Fulvia: He has been strange of late and silent, laughs,
Seeing the Cross, but softly and almost
As it were some sweet thing he loved.
Antonio (absently): As if
'Twere some sweet thing—he laughs—is strange—you say?
Fulvia: Stranger than is Antonio his son,
Who but for some expectancy is vacant.
(She makes to go.)
Antonio: Stay, Fulvia, though I am not in poise.
Last night I dreamed of you: in vain you hovered
To reach me from the coil of swift Charybdis.
(A low cry, Antonio starts.)
Fulvia: A woman's voice!
(Looking down the road.)
And hasting here!
Antonio: Alone?
Fulvia: No, with another!