[The slave is gleaming strangely.
Vittia. Smarda! what do you mean? why are you here?
[Sees papers; takes them.
These—but not these alone have brought you! What?
[Follows Smarda's eye.
Of lord Amaury?
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?