Falsely wise and frozen fair?’
Luc. Listen, Justina, listen and beware.
Just. Again! That voice too?—But you know my father
Is ill—is in his chamber—
How sultry ’tis—the street is full and close—
Let us get home—why do they stare at us?
And murmur something—‘Cipriano?—Where
Is Cipriano?—lost to us—some say,
And to himself,—self-slain—mad——Where is he?’
Alas, alas, I know not—