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With greater horror from the brink of death,
Than I do from that moment of despair
Which shall make manifest the thing I dread.

GUZMAN.

I trust that moment never will arrive.

ROMIERO.

Dost thou, my friend? dost thou, in very truth?

I bless thee for that noble confidence:
Would I could feel it too! Repeat thy words.

GUZMAN.

I do believe that moment will not come.

ROMIERO.

No, no! it was not thus: thy words are changed;

Thy tone of voice is changed; thoughts of recoil
Pass o'er thy mind, and turn their force to weakness.
Thou dost not trust,—no, nor believe it neither.

GUZMAN.

Indeed, I think—I hope thou art deceived.

ROMIERO.

Shame on such timid tamp'ring with my passion,

Provoking it the more! If she is guilty,
I am prepared with dreadful preparation.
If she is innocent,——tears choke my voice:
To say, "if she is innocent!"——
Her look, her smile, her easy lightsome gait,—