116
ROMIERO: A TRAGEDY.
SEBASTIAN.
I'll now receive it thankfully. Romiero,
Thou wretched murd'rer of thy spotless wife—
Romiero de Cardona !
ROMIERO.
Who is it calls me with that bitter voice? (Gazing on him; and then with a violent gesture of despair)
I know thee;—yes, I know what I have done.
GUZMAN.
And speak to her while she is sensible,
And can receive thy words. She looks on thee,
And looks imploringly.
ROMIERO.
I loved thee far beyond all earthly things,
But demons have been dealing with my soul,
And I have been thy tyrant and thy butcher,
A wretch bereft of reason.
BEATRICE.
But her parch'd tongue refuses. (To Maurice.) Fetch some water
To moisten those dear lips and cool that brow. [Exit Maurice.
She strives again to speak.