Fulvia: He was with Hæmon?
Giulia: On that seat.
Fulvia: Convulsed,
Yet passionless?
Yet passionless?
Giulia: His words were low
Fulvia: Why were
You not asleep?
You not asleep?
Giulia: I——
Fulvia: Did he beat his hands
Briefly—and then no more?
Briefly—and then no more?
Giulia: I was behind——
Fulvia: And could not see? But heard their names?
The Greek is still without?
The Greek is still without?
Giulia: My lady, yes.
Fulvia: Your voice is guilty. How came Hæmon in?
Answer me, answer! No, go quickly! If
The duke has entered now and sleeps! Or if——!
Answer me, answer! No, go quickly! If
The duke has entered now and sleeps! Or if——!
(Words and swords are heard, then a shriek from Helena. Charles rushes in furious and wounded in the arm, followed by Helena, Antonio, who is dazed, and from the Castle side by Hæmon, guards, etc.)
Antonio: You, you, sir? father? I knew it not, so swift
Your rage fell on me.
Your rage fell on me.
Charles (to a guard): Gaping, ghastly fool!
Do you behold him murderous and lay
No hand on him!
Do you behold him murderous and lay
No hand on him!
Antonio: But, sir——!
Charles: Let him not fawn
About me! Seize him! God forgives not Hell.
Not this blood only but my soul's be on him.
About me! Seize him! God forgives not Hell.
Not this blood only but my soul's be on him.
Helena: O, do not, he——
Charles: Stand! stand! Touch me not with
Your voice or eyes or being! They are soft
With perfidy, and stole me to believe
There's sweetness in a flower, light in air,
And beauty in the innocence of earth.
Bind him! Leucadia's just cliff awaits
All traitors—'tis the law, they must be flung
Out on the dizzy and supportless wind.
Your voice or eyes or being! They are soft
With perfidy, and stole me to believe
There's sweetness in a flower, light in air,
And beauty in the innocence of earth.
Bind him! Leucadia's just cliff awaits
All traitors—'tis the law, they must be flung
Out on the dizzy and supportless wind.
Fulvia: But this shall never be! No, though your looks
Heave out with hate upon me.
Heave out with hate upon me.
Charles (convulsed, then coldly): You are dead,
And speak to me. Once you were Fulvia—
No more! And once my friend, now but a ghost
Whom I must gaze upon forgetlessly.
Obey, at once! and at to-morrow's sunset!
(Antonio is taken and led out.)
And speak to me. Once you were Fulvia—
No more! And once my friend, now but a ghost
Whom I must gaze upon forgetlessly.
Obey, at once! and at to-morrow's sunset!
(Antonio is taken and led out.)
Helena (falling at Charles' feet): You cannot, will not—O, he is your son
And loves you much!
And loves you much!
Charles: Touch me not! touch me not!
(To Hæmon.) Lead her away—and quickly, quickly, quickly! (Hæmon goes with Helena through the postern.
Friends—friends—(unsteadily) I am—quite—friendless now—? (Clutching his wounded arm.) Ah—quite! (He faints.)
(To Hæmon.) Lead her away—and quickly, quickly, quickly! (Hæmon goes with Helena through the postern.
Friends—friends—(unsteadily) I am—quite—friendless now—? (Clutching his wounded arm.) Ah—quite! (He faints.)
Fulvia: Charles! Charles! my lord! return!—A numbness
Has barred the way of soothing to his breast!
Has barred the way of soothing to his breast!
Curtain.
ACT FOUR
Scene.—A chamber in the Castle, opening on the right to a hall, curtained on the left from another chamber. In the rear is a window through which may be seen silvery hills of olive resting under the late afternoon sun: by it a shrine. Enter the Captain of the Guard and a Soldier from the Hall.
Soldier: There is no more?
Captain: Not if you understand.
Soldier: That do I—every link of it! I've served
Under the bold de Montreal, and he
For stratagems—well, Italy knows him!
Under the bold de Montreal, and he
For stratagems—well, Italy knows him!
Captain: You must be quick and secret.
Soldier: As the end
Of the world!
Of the world!
Captain: Our duty's with the duke. But then
Antonio has our love.
Antonio has our love.
Soldier: That has he! Ah,
That has he!
That has he!
Captain: Well, be close. None must escape,
Remember, none be hurt. As for the princess,
We'll hear the chink of ducats with her thanks.
Remember, none be hurt. As for the princess,
We'll hear the chink of ducats with her thanks.
Soldier: Madonna save her!—The Judas of a father
Who robs her rest!
Who robs her rest!
Captain (looking down the hall): 'Tis she who comes this way.
So go, and haste. But fail not.
So go, and haste. But fail not.
Soldier: If I do,
Bury me with a pagan, next a Turk!
(Goes.
Bury me with a pagan, next a Turk!
(Goes.
Enter Fulvia.
Captain: Princess—
Fulvia: Our plans grow to fulfilment—are
No way misplanted?
No way misplanted?
Captain: Lady, all seems now
Seasonable for their expected fruit.
Seasonable for their expected fruit.
Fulvia: No accident appears to threat and thwart them?
Captain: Doubt not a fullest harvest of your hope.
The duke himself shall for this deed at last
Have benediction.
The duke himself shall for this deed at last
Have benediction.
Fulvia: May it be! He's quick,
Though quicker in forgetting. I will move
Him as I may.
Though quicker in forgetting. I will move
Him as I may.
Captain: The kind and wise assaults
Your words shall make must move him, gracious lady.
Your words shall make must move him, gracious lady.
Enter Hæmon.
Hæmon: I seek the duke.
Fulvia (dismissing Captain with a gesture):
You would seek penitence
Were you less far in folly.
You would seek penitence
Were you less far in folly.
Hæmon (as going): O—if he's
Not here, then——
Not here, then——
Fulvia: Sorrow too would strain your lips,
Not cold defiance.
Not cold defiance.
Hæmon: Pardon: if you know,
Where is he?
Where is he?
Fulvia: Was it easy to o'erwhelm
Under the ruin of her dreams a sister?
Under the ruin of her dreams a sister?
Hæmon: Better beneath her dreams than under shame.
Fulvia: Your rashness cloaks itself in that excuse,
Your ruth, and your suspicion that has doomed
One innocent.
Your ruth, and your suspicion that has doomed
One innocent.
Hæmon: One innocent! His thought
Had but betrayal for her!
Had but betrayal for her!
Fulvia: 'Tis the Greek
In you avows it, no true voice.
In you avows it, no true voice.
Hæmon: Then 'tis
My father murdered whose last moan I hear
Driven about me in this castle's gray
Cold spaces. And the dead speak not to lie.
My father murdered whose last moan I hear
Driven about me in this castle's gray
Cold spaces. And the dead speak not to lie.
Fulvia: No, no. You cannot brave your action with
The spur of that belief.
The spur of that belief.
Hæmon: What want you of me?
Fulvia: This: ache and restlessness are on you.
Hæmon (impatiently): No.
Fulvia: And doubt begins in you that as a wolf
Will scent the wounded quarry of your conscience.
Will scent the wounded quarry of your conscience.
Hæmon: After he lured and wooed her under night
And secrecy?
And secrecy?
Fulvia: Not running there will you
Escape its dread pursuit.
Escape its dread pursuit.
Hæmon: He frauded—duped
His father's trust!
His father's trust!
Fulvia: Or there! But one refuge
Have you against its bitter ceaseless tooth,
And that above the wilds of self-deceit.
Have you against its bitter ceaseless tooth,
And that above the wilds of self-deceit.
Hæmon: Why do you wind so sinuously about me?
No refuge can be from an hour that's done.
Shall we invert the glass or tilt the dial
To bring it back?
No refuge can be from an hour that's done.
Shall we invert the glass or tilt the dial
To bring it back?
Fulvia: But if there were?
Hæmon: Where is
The duke—I will not bauble.
The duke—I will not bauble.
Fulvia: If there were?
Hæmon: I will no longer listen to the worm,
You set to feed upon me—torturing!
The sun melts to an end, and with the night
Antonio will not be.
You set to feed upon me—torturing!
The sun melts to an end, and with the night
Antonio will not be.
Fulvia: Yet there is time.
Hæmon: The duke is fixed.
Fulvia: No matter: 'gainst the swell
And power of this peril you must lean.
And power of this peril you must lean.
Hæmon: I——?
Fulvia: Yes.
Hæmon: You have a plan?
Fulvia: One that is sure. (Steps are heard.)
But through those curtains, quick. For more seek out
The Captain of the guard. The duke comes hither.
But through those curtains, quick. For more seek out
The Captain of the guard. The duke comes hither.
(Hæmon goes through the curtains.
Charles enters, worn, dishevelled, and followed by Cecco. He sees Fulvia and pauses.
Fulvia: I come to plead.
Charles: (turning away): Ah! Nature should have pled
With her your mother, 'gainst conception.
With her your mother, 'gainst conception.
Fulvia: Your trust is causelessly withdrawn. Yet for
A breath again I beg it—for a moment!
A breath again I beg it—for a moment!
Charles: A moment were too much—or not enough.
Is trust a flower of sudden birth we may
Bid bloom with a command?
Is trust a flower of sudden birth we may
Bid bloom with a command?
Fulvia: Ah, that it were,
Or bloomed as amaranth in those we love,
Beyond all drought and withering of ill!
But hear me——!
Or bloomed as amaranth in those we love,
Beyond all drought and withering of ill!
But hear me——!
Charles: Leave these words.
Fulvia: Will you not turn
Out of this rage?
Out of this rage?
Charles: Leave them, I say, and cease!
Still down the vortex of this destiny
I would not farther have you drawn.
Still down the vortex of this destiny
I would not farther have you drawn.
Fulvia: Then from
It draw yourself!
It draw yourself!
Charles: Myself am but a hulk
Whose treasures have already been engulfed.
Whose treasures have already been engulfed.
Fulvia: Yet shrink from it!
Charles: A son, a friend, a—No,
She was not mine!—I will not turn.
She was not mine!—I will not turn.
Fulvia: It is
Your fury that distorts us into guilt.
Although he will not render up his heart,
But flings you stony and unfilial speech,
Fearing for her——
Your fury that distorts us into guilt.
Although he will not render up his heart,
But flings you stony and unfilial speech,
Fearing for her——
Charles: Leave!
Fulvia: We——
Charles: Thrice have I said it!
Fulvia: Yet must I not until your will is wasted.
Charles (angrily): Ah!
(Fulvia sighs then goes slowly.)
Charles: Cecco!
Cecco: My lord?
Charles: The hour?
Cecco (going to window): It leans to sunset.
Charles: The sky—the sky?
Cecco: A murk moves slowly up.
Charles (wearily): There should be storm—gloating of wind and grind
Of hopeless thunders. Lightnings should laugh out
As tongues of fiends. There should be storm.
(His head sinks on his breast.)
(Suddenly.) Yet!—yet!——
Of hopeless thunders. Lightnings should laugh out
As tongues of fiends. There should be storm.
(His head sinks on his breast.)
(Suddenly.) Yet!—yet!——
Cecco: My lord?
Charles: The glow and glory of her seem
Dead in me!
Dead in me!
Cecco: Of—the Greek?
Charles: And yearning has
Grown impotent—as 'twere a moment's folly,
A left and quickly quenched desire of youth
Kindled in me!—To youth alone love's sudden.
Grown impotent—as 'twere a moment's folly,
A left and quickly quenched desire of youth
Kindled in me!—To youth alone love's sudden.
Cecco: Sir, dare I speak?
Charles: Speak.
Cecco: When Antonio——
Charles: Cease: but a whisper of his name and I
Am frenzy—frenzy—though the stillness burns
And bursts with it!
Am frenzy—frenzy—though the stillness burns
And bursts with it!
(Cecco steps back. A pause.)
Charles: The sun, how hangs it now?
Cecco (going to window): Above the bloody waving of the sea,
Eager to dip.
Eager to dip.
Charles (staggering up): Ah, I was in a foam——
Bitten by hounds of fury and despair!
Did you not, Fulvia, pleading for them say
They quailed but would not flee and leave me waste?
Bitten by hounds of fury and despair!
Did you not, Fulvia, pleading for them say
They quailed but would not flee and leave me waste?
Cecco: She is not here, my liege.
Charles: Antonio!
Ah, boy! thou ever wast to me as wafts
Of light, of song, of summer on the hills!
Soft now I feel thy baby arms about me,
And all the burgeon of thy youth, ere proud
And cruel years grew in me, comes again
On wings and stealing winds of memory!
Ah, boy! thou ever wast to me as wafts
Of light, of song, of summer on the hills!
Soft now I feel thy baby arms about me,
And all the burgeon of thy youth, ere proud
And cruel years grew in me, comes again
On wings and stealing winds of memory!
Cecco: O, then, sir——
Charles: Yes. Fly, fly! and stay the guard!
He must not—Ah!—down fearful fathoms, down
Into the roar!
(Cecco starts. He stops him.)
Yet he has flung me from
Immeasurable peaks, and I have sunk
Forevermore beneath hope's horizon.
Who falls so close the grave can rise no more.
He must not—Ah!—down fearful fathoms, down
Into the roar!
(Cecco starts. He stops him.)
Yet he has flung me from
Immeasurable peaks, and I have sunk
Forevermore beneath hope's horizon.
Who falls so close the grave can rise no more.
Cecco: This your despair would wound him more than death.
Forget the girl.
Forget the girl.
Charles: She? Ah, my sullen, wild,
And gloomy pulse beat with a rightful scorn
Against the hours that sieged it. Stony was
Its solitude and fierce, bastioned against
All danger of quick blisses—till, with fury
For that mute tenderness which women's love
Lays on the desolation of the world,
She ravished it!—Yet now 'tis still and cold.
And gloomy pulse beat with a rightful scorn
Against the hours that sieged it. Stony was
Its solitude and fierce, bastioned against
All danger of quick blisses—till, with fury
For that mute tenderness which women's love
Lays on the desolation of the world,
She ravished it!—Yet now 'tis still and cold.
Cecco: But 'twas unknowingly.
Charles: A woman's smile
Never was luring, never, but she knew it,
As hawk the cruel rapture of his wings.
Never was luring, never, but she knew it,
As hawk the cruel rapture of his wings.
Cecco: She though is young, and youth——
Charles: Must pay with moan
The shriving!—Ah, the sun—the sun—where burns it?
The shriving!—Ah, the sun—the sun—where burns it?
Cecco: Upon a cloud whence it must spring to night.
Charles: So low?
Cecco: Sir, yes.
Charles: Ah, 'tis? so low?
Cecco: Red now
It rushes forth.
It rushes forth.
Charles: A breathing of the world,
And then!—Antonio!
And then!—Antonio!
Cecco: Again a cloud
Withholds.
Withholds.
Charles: Antonio!
Cecco: It dips, my lord.
Charles (frenzied): O, will great Christ upon it lay no fear!
Let it swoon down as if its sinking sent
No signal unto Death—and plunge, plunge thee,
Antonio, forever from the day!
Has He no miracle will seize it yet!
Nor will lend now His thunder to cry hold,
His lightning to flame off the hands that grasp,
Bidden to hurl thee o'er!
Let it swoon down as if its sinking sent
No signal unto Death—and plunge, plunge thee,
Antonio, forever from the day!
Has He no miracle will seize it yet!
Nor will lend now His thunder to cry hold,
His lightning to flame off the hands that grasp,
Bidden to hurl thee o'er!
Cecco: 'Tis sunk!
Charles (rushing to window): Yes!—Yes! (Starting back horrified.) The vision of it! Ah,—see you not, see!
They lift him, swing him—Now! down, down, down, down!
The rocks! the lash! the foam!
They lift him, swing him—Now! down, down, down, down!
The rocks! the lash! the foam!
(Sinks exhausted in his chair. Cecco pours out wine.)
Enter hurriedly, a Soldier.
Soldier: Great lord!
Cecco: What now!
It is ill-timed!
It is ill-timed!
Soldier: Great lord, there's mutiny!
Cecco: And where?
Soldier: Hear me, great sir, there's mutiny!
Cecco: The town? the town?
Charles (rousing): Ay——?
Soldier: Mutiny! your haste!
Charles: O, mutiny.
Soldier: Sir, yes!
Charles: And do the ranks
Of hell roar up at me?—It is not strange.
Of hell roar up at me?—It is not strange.
Soldier (confused): The ranks of—pardon, lord.
Charles: Do the skies rage——?
They were else dead to madness.
They were else dead to madness.
Soldier: Sir, it is
Your guard beyond the gates.
Your guard beyond the gates.
Charles: 'Tis every throat
Of earth and realm unearthly has a cry
Against me and against!
Of earth and realm unearthly has a cry
Against me and against!
Soldier: No, but a few——
Charles: You doubt it?—Are my eyes not bloody? Say!
Soldier: Sir! sir!
Charles: My lips then are not pale with murder
Bitterly done?
Bitterly done?
Soldier: Pale—no.
Charles: Yet have I killed;
Spoke death with them—not reasonless—yet death.
And all the lost have echoes of it: hear
You not a spirit clamor on the air?
Ploughing as storms of pain it passes through me.
Mutiny? Go. I could call chaos fair,
And fawn on infinite ruin—fawn and praise.
(Soldier goes.
Yet will not yield! (To Cecco.) My robes and coronet!
(Cecco goes to obey.
I'll sit in them and mock at greatness that
A passion may unthrone. If we weep not
Calamity will leave to torture us,
And fate for want of tears will thirst to death!
Spoke death with them—not reasonless—yet death.
And all the lost have echoes of it: hear
You not a spirit clamor on the air?
Ploughing as storms of pain it passes through me.
Mutiny? Go. I could call chaos fair,
And fawn on infinite ruin—fawn and praise.
(Soldier goes.
Yet will not yield! (To Cecco.) My robes and coronet!
(Cecco goes to obey.
I'll sit in them and mock at greatness that
A passion may unthrone. If we weep not
Calamity will leave to torture us,
And fate for want of tears will thirst to death!
Enter Cardinal.
Ah, priestly sir.
Cardinal: Infuriate man!
Charles: Speak so.
I lust for bitterness.
I lust for bitterness.
Cardinal: What have you done!
Charles (shuddering, then smiling): Watched the sun set. Did it not, think you, bleed
Unwontedly along the waves?
Unwontedly along the waves?
Cardinal: O horror!
Horrible when a father slays and smiles!
Horrible when a father slays and smiles!
Charles: Not so, lord Cardinal, not so!—but when
He slays and smileth not.
He slays and smileth not.
Cardinal: Beyond all mercy!
Charles: Therefore I smile. Men should not mid the trite
Enchanting and vain trickery of earth
Till they no longer hope of it, or want.
Smiles should be kept for life's unbearable.
Enchanting and vain trickery of earth
Till they no longer hope of it, or want.
Smiles should be kept for life's unbearable.
Cardinal: Murderer!
Charles: Ah!
Cardinal: Heretic!
Charles: Well.
(Goes to shrine and casts it out the window.)
Cardinal: Fool! fool!
Charles: There are no wise men, O lord Cardinal.
Cardinal: Heaven let Antonio's death under the sea
Make every wave a tongue against your rest,
And 'gainst the rock of this impenitence!
(Charles listens as to something afar off.)
No wind should blow that has not sting of it,
No light stream that it stains not!
Make every wave a tongue against your rest,
And 'gainst the rock of this impenitence!
(Charles listens as to something afar off.)
No wind should blow that has not sting of it,
No light stream that it stains not!
Charles (sighing): You have loosed
Your robe, lord prelate—see.
Your robe, lord prelate—see.
Cardinal: O stone! thou stone!
Charles: Have peace. A keener cry comes up to me
Than frenzy can invoke: a vaster pain
Than justice from Omnipotence may call.
Than frenzy can invoke: a vaster pain
Than justice from Omnipotence may call.
Cardinal: My lips shall learn it.
Charles: "Father" moans it. "Father!"——
It is my ears' inheritance forever.
It is my ears' inheritance forever.
Enter Fulvia
Fulvia: Lord Cardinal, one of your servants has
In quarrel been struck, and mortally 'tis feared.
Quickly to him: then I may plead of you
Escort to Rome.
In quarrel been struck, and mortally 'tis feared.
Quickly to him: then I may plead of you
Escort to Rome.
Cardinal: I do not understand.
Fulvia: But shall.
Cardinal: To Rome?
Fulvia: Do not pause here to learn
With the dear minutes of a dying man.
(Cardinal goes.
With the dear minutes of a dying man.
(Cardinal goes.
Charles: You baffle and bewilder.
Fulvia: Well.
Charles: You—?—Yes!
I am beat off by it.
I am beat off by it.
Fulvia: Ten years of shelter
Have you held over me.
Have you held over me.
Charles: Ten years——
Fulvia: Whose days,
Whose every moment else had borne a torture.
Whose every moment else had borne a torture.
Charles: Now——?
Fulvia: I, perhaps, must go.
Charles: Must?—Still I grope.
Fulvia: Must go! Though in this castle's aged calm
And melancholy dusk no shadow is
Or niche but may remember prayer for thee.
And melancholy dusk no shadow is
Or niche but may remember prayer for thee.
Charles: To Rome? You must?—I am under a spell.
Fulvia: We, thou and I, after the battle's foam
Or chase's tired return, often have breathed
The passionate deep hours away in rest
And sympathy.
Or chase's tired return, often have breathed
The passionate deep hours away in rest
And sympathy.
Charles: Say on. Your voice—I marvel——
Fulvia: And at the dawn have looked and sighed, then slow
With quiet clasp of fingers turned apart.
With quiet clasp of fingers turned apart.
Charles: You go?—But, on!—your tone—in it I feel——
Fulvia: Have we not fast been friends?
Charles: What hath your voice?
Fulvia: Such friends have we not been as grow up from
Eternity?
Eternity?
Charles: You say it, and I wake.
Fulvia: Such friends—till yesterday you——
Charles: Ah!
Charles: Ah!
Fulvia: Changed sudden as the sea when cometh storm.
Charles: I had forgot—forgot!—the sun!—the sea!
The sea!—Antonio!—The cliff—the surf!
The shroud and funeral fury of the waves!
The sea!—Antonio!—The cliff—the surf!
The shroud and funeral fury of the waves!
Fulvia: Be calm.
Charles (rising excitedly): I'll stay it! Cecco, our fleetest foot!
A rain of ducats if he shall outspeed
This doom on us. More! more! a flood of them,
If he——
A rain of ducats if he shall outspeed
This doom on us. More! more! a flood of them,
If he——
Fulvia (drawing him to his chair): Be patient—calm.
Charles: I—I—remember,
'Tis night!
'Tis night!
Fulvia: Yes, night.
Charles: The sun's no more! It hath
Gone down beyond all mercy and recall.
Gone down beyond all mercy and recall.
Fulvia: Beyond?—Ah!
Charles (quickly): Fulvia?
Fulvia: 'Tis hard to think!
Charles: You utter and he seemeth still of life.
Fulvia: He was a child in mimic mail clad out
When first this threshold poured its welcome to me.
When first this threshold poured its welcome to me.
Charles: Softly you muse it, and call to your eyes
No quailing nor a flame of execration!
You do not burst out on me? from me do
Not shrink as from an executioner?
No quailing nor a flame of execration!
You do not burst out on me? from me do
Not shrink as from an executioner?
Fulvia: I am a woman who in tears came to
Your strength, in tears depart.
Your strength, in tears depart.
Charles: And will not judge?
But fear me—fear, and flee?—You shall not go!
But fear me—fear, and flee?—You shall not go!
Fulvia: Perhaps
Charles: Again "perhaps"—this calm "perhaps!"——
To Rome?—I say you shall not.
To Rome?—I say you shall not.
Fulvia: Yet should he,
Antonio, from those curtains come——
Antonio, from those curtains come——
Charles: Should—should?
You speak not reasonably. Why do you say
"If he should come?"
You speak not reasonably. Why do you say
"If he should come?"
Fulvia: Because——
Charles: You've touched
And led me trembling from reality!
Those curtains?—those?—just those?—You shall not go.
And led me trembling from reality!
Those curtains?—those?—just those?—You shall not go.
Fulvia: I will not then.
Charles: But something breaks from you,
And as an air of resurrection stirs.
Speak; on your words I wait unutterably.
And as an air of resurrection stirs.
Speak; on your words I wait unutterably.
Fulvia: Did not a soldier lately come, my lord,
Breathless with eager speech of mutiny——?
Breathless with eager speech of mutiny——?
Charles: Well—well——?
Fulvia: Within your guard?
Charles: My guard? No—yes——
What do I see yet cannot in your words?
What do I see yet cannot in your words?
Fulvia: The mutiny was roused at my command.
Charles: Say it—say all!
Fulvia: To save you the mad blot
Of a son's blood.
Of a son's blood.
Charles: Antonio——?
Fulvia: Lives!
Charles: Low—low——
Joy come too furious has piercing peril.
He lives?—You have done this? With these soft hands,
These little hands, held off the shears of Fate?
Have dared? and have not feared?
Joy come too furious has piercing peril.
He lives?—You have done this? With these soft hands,
These little hands, held off the shears of Fate?
Have dared? and have not feared?
Fulvia: Your danger was
My fear—that, and no more.
My fear—that, and no more.
Charles: He lives?—I have
No worth, no gratitude, no gift that may
Answer this deed—no glow, no eloquence
But would ring poor in rarest words of earth.
He lives?—Years yet are mine. Too brief they'll be
To muse with love of this!
No worth, no gratitude, no gift that may
Answer this deed—no glow, no eloquence
But would ring poor in rarest words of earth.
He lives?—Years yet are mine. Too brief they'll be
To muse with love of this!
Fulvia: No, no, my lord.
Charles: But where is he? Belief, tho' risen, strains
In me as if 'twere fast in cerements
That seeing must unbind.
In me as if 'twere fast in cerements
That seeing must unbind.
Fulvia: Turn then, and see.
(Antonio steps from the curtains.)