How move, and feel, and think, and touch?
Why shudder thus at chill of death?
Yonder's the flicker of a flame, there yawns
The dark abyss, where mortal souls do mourn
Life's chances lost, that sad unfathomed bourn.
Hath Lethe's stream been bridged, and do I know
The pinching penalty of love and woe?
The light approaches: if I be not lifeless now
I die of fear.
Enter Roselo with a lantern, Marin following. Julia retires.
Marin. Pray leave me here, 'tis more discreet,
I'll guard the door that's nearest to the street.
Roselo. Anselmo's there; he will do all need.
Come thou with me. Why stand aghast, and look
So pale and tremble?
Marin. 'Twere better that the Bishop and his train
Should come with holy water first.
Roselo. Ascend this step with care.
Marin. This step! oh, dear!———
Roselo. Dost fear the silent air will eat thee?
Marin. Ah! I feel a touch upon mine arm!
(Overturns the lantern, and extinguishes the light.)
Roselo. Accursed be thy clumsy hand and foot!
Marin. Assist me, Holy Mother, all the saints give aid.
I feel I'm dead and buried, with mouldy corpses laid.
Roselo. Silence! some one speaks.
Marin. Oh! did you hear a corpse's voice?
Julia (aside). No doubt Aurelio's potion did contain
Some sweet confection wooing without pain,
Death's counterfeit, soft slumber.
