HENRIQUEZ: A TRAGEDY.
299
LEONORA.
If they have none, most piteous!—
Henriquez; O, my Lord!—My noble husband!
I thought not thou would'st e'er have look'd on me
As thou hast done, with such an eye of sternness.
Alas! and had'st thou nothing dear on earth
But him whom thou hast lost?
HENRIQUEZ.
And so it is: thy hand upon my breast. (Pressing her hand, which she has laid upon his breast.)
I feel it—O how dear! (Is about to kiss it, but casts it from him.)
It must not be! Would thou wert false! Would grinding contumely
Had bow'd me to the earth—worn from my mind
The very sense and nature of a man!
Faithful to me! Go, loose thee from my side;
Thy faithfulness is agony ineffable,
It makes me more accursed. Cling not to me:
To taste the slightest feeling of thy love
Were base—were monstrous now.—Follow me not!
The ecstasy of misery spurns all pity. [Exit.
