HE. By God! I wonder that I don't hate you instead of love you. There is something ignobly feminine about you. You are incapable of action— almost incapable of speech. Your lips are shut tight against kisses, and when they open to speak, all that they say is "Don't."
SHE. What do you expect to gain by scolding me?
HE. I gain the satisfaction of telling you the truth—that you have the most cowardly soul that was ever belied by a glorious body. Who would think to look at you that you were afraid?
SHE. It's no use bullying me.
HE. I know that, Violante. It's the poorest way to woo a woman. But I have tried every other way. I have pleaded, and been answered with silence. I have wooed you with caresses, and been answered with tears.
SHE. I am sorry, Luciano.
HE. I want you to be glad.
SHE. I am glad—glad of you—in spite of everything.
HE. Gladness is something fiercer than that. You are too tame. Oh, if I could reach and rouse your soul!
SHE. My soul is yours already….