Do they call you Olivia? Speak, woman!
Olivia
Yea, I am she—but where is Florio?
[Violante straightens, proud and erect, as if she had been struck an invisible blow.]
Lizzia
He waits for you within.
Olivia
So he had faith I would not die?
Lizzia
He had these garlands hung for your return.
He has lived beneath a holy vow, the days
You were not here: shut in his room,
Yours must be the first face
He sees, on his return to light and life.
He must have fallen asleep from weariness
Or he had heard your voice.