Satan: Ah, Spring, Spring. They are dancing. Such nimble ankles.
[Antoninus raises his scourge.
Satan (more gravely): Think, Antoninus, forty or fifty more Springs.
Antoninus: Never, never, never.
Satan: And no more striving next time. See Antoninus, see them as they dance, there with the may behind them under the hill.
Antoninus: Never! I will not look.
Satan: Ah, look at them, Antoninus. Their sweet figures. And the warm wind blowing in Spring.
Antoninus: Never! My scourge is for such.
[Satan sighs. The girls laugh from the hill. Antoninus hears the laughter.
A look of fear comes over him.