Pro. That I may read
If to the widow’d love of Conradin,
Or the proud Eribert’s triumphant bride,
I now intrust my fate.
Vit. Thou, Procida!
That thou shouldst wrong me thus!—prolong thy gaze
Till it hath found an answer.
Pro. ’Tis enough.
I find it in thy cheek, whose rapid change
Is from death’s hue to fever’s; in the wild