Hæmon: After he lured and wooed her under night
And secrecy?
Fulvia: Not running there will you
Escape its dread pursuit.
Hæmon: He frauded—duped
His father's trust!
Fulvia: Or there! But one refuge
Have you against its bitter ceaseless tooth,
And that above the wilds of self-deceit.
Hæmon: Why do you wind so sinuously about me?
No refuge can be from an hour that's done.
Shall we invert the glass or tilt the dial
To bring it back?
Fulvia: But if there were?
Hæmon: Where is
The duke—I will not bauble.
Fulvia: If there were?
Hæmon: I will no longer listen to the worm,
You set to feed upon me—torturing!
The sun melts to an end, and with the night
Antonio will not be.
Fulvia: Yet there is time.