My young hound bays her welcome. Enter, sir.—
What! Gone? An armored man swooped like a hawk
Down the sheer ledges to the city’s core?
Beware, my fiery nameless half-a-Christian,
Hot for romance, beneath the stars of spring!
Well, well, well, well! Down, Demo. I believe
He’ll somehow free her: we shall have her back,
Good Demo.... Tut! of all the wild hawk-swoops!
III
Midnight. A brothel. Theodora alone. Didymus breaks in.