Amaury. How? speak.
Vittia. Again unshameful? No; one thing
Alone would serve you. That I must not bring
My tongue to falter.
Vittia. And yet ...
[He has turned away.
Yet I must bend to! and, my lord, I will!
Will ... for you suffer!
Will, though indelicacy seem to soil
Whatever bloom I boasted.
[Goes to him.
It is this:
To let her ... but for to-day ...
Think you ... for she's aware of my affection ...
Have chosen—to wed me.
Amaury. You!
Vittia. For to-day.
To-morrow I return to Venice, then
Denial.