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The heart, the heart! What prize we but the heart! (Mutters again, then breaks out in loud and vehement utterance.)

No; though his lips had never touch'd her hand,

If that be lost, I'm wretched!

GUZMAN (waking).

What sound is that? Who's there? Ha! thou, my friend!

ROMIERO.

What has so startled thee?

GUZMAN.

The voice that woke me.

Thou must have heard it; 't was a human voice.

ROMIERO.

It was mine own, Don Guzman.

GUZMAN.

What has befallen? Why wert thou so alarmed?

Or was it some sharp pang of bodily pain?

ROMIERO.

No, no! it was not that; and I am here

Only to share thy chamber for the night.

GUZMAN.

And why? I am amazed.

ROMIERO.

I've paced o'er ramparts, halls, and galleries,

Till I have need of rest.

GUZMAN.

And thou would'st find it here? What strange caprice