CESARE.
You do not stir!
LUCREZIA.
An iron-grip, and yet
I do not cry for mercy: it supports.
CESARE.
The need is past—and but for mastery
I keep my hold.
I shall visit thee again;
But ere I can make speed I promise thee
Such tidings—!
LUCREZIA.
I am dizzy.
CESARE.
No, Lucrece,
You are not dizzy: for I promise you,
If you will pledge me to remain alive,
That I will vanquish all my enemies.
But I must have the oath.