Smarda. Of his mother.
Vittia. How!
Smarda. She swooned of terror at the castle gate. She lies in danger. Hear—'twas as she fled The lord of Lusignan.
Amaury. My father?
Smarda. He. And you are sought below, I heard it said: Some officer of Famagouste—and men.
(Amaury turns dazed and goes.)
Vittia (with fervour, then—yet awed).
This is again fortune!... fortune!
Smarda. Lady?
Vittia. Is! though an instant since it seemed disaster.