id
To win Amaury?

_Renier._ All is vain in me
Before the fever for it.

_Vittia._ Then, I shall.
It must be done. My want is unafraid.
Hourly I am expecting out of Venice
Letters of power.
And what to you I pledge is he shall be
Ruler of Cyprus and these Mediterranean
Blue seas that rock ever against its coast.
That do I pledge ... but more.

_Renier._ Of rule?... Then what?

_Vittia_ (_going up to him_). Of shame withheld--dishonor
unrevealed.

[_As he recoils._

Hush! there are steps.

[_The slave re-enters._

Smarda?

_Smarda_ (_quickly_). My lady!

_Vittia._ Speak.

_Smarda._ I've erred; she's not asleep.

_Vittia._ Who?--Ah! Yolanda?

_Smarda._ Yes; she is coming!

_Renier._ Ha!

_Vittia._ My lord----!

_Renier._ I'll stay,
Stay and confront her.

_Vittia._ Ignorantly? No.

_Renier._ I'll question her.

_Vittia._ Blindly, and peril all?

_Renier._ I will return. You put me off, and off.

[_By the loggia, with_ MORO, _he goes; the slave
slips out._ YOLANDA _enters, sadly, her gaze on
the floor. She walks slowly, but becoming
conscious starts, sees_ VITTIA, _and turns to
withdraw._

_Vittia._ Your pardon--

_Yolanda._ I can serve you?

_Vittia._ If you seek
The women, they are gone.

_Yolanda._ I do not seek them.

_Vittia._ Nor me?

_Yolanda._ Nor any.--Yet I would I might
With seeking penetrate the labyrinth
Of your intent.

_Vittia._ I thank you. And you shall,
To-night--if you have love.

_Yolanda._ That thread were vain.

_Vittia._ I say, if you have love.

_Yolanda._ Of guile?

_Vittia._ Of her
You hold as mother, and who is Amaury's.

_Yolanda._ Were it so simple, all designs that ever
Laired in you, would to my eyes have been as clear
As shallows under Mor