Julia. Hast thou forgotten all, that thou canst doubt
Thy daughter's voice?
Antonio. Where art thou, child, and what thy wish?
Julia. From the bright world of seraphims I come
To hold discourse with thee.
Antonio. Sweet child, thy words I hear, but seeming night
Doth cheat me of thy face the sight.
Julia. Darest thou to look upon the form I bear?
Antonio. No, I should die; speak, say on.
Julia. 'Twas thee alone who caused my death.
Antonio. I caused thy death, oh heavens! how!
Julia. Didst not seek to wed me 'gainst my will?
Antonio. I did advise as seemed best.
Julia. Count Paris did deserve a noble bride,
But Love permits not wives to wed.
Antonio. The blame indeed was thine; such tardy truth
As that thou now dost speak
Should have been then discoursed.
Oh Julia! why not have prattled:—
Father mine, I am a weak and wayward girl,
Have set thy will at naught,
Love's fetters outweigh gold, both scales and all.
Thou shouldst have pardon sought,
I with thy falling rain of tears soon bought.
Thy choice would be of no ignoble blood, I trow,
For thou the Phœnix of all virtue art, I know.
Julia. Had my choice been of more ignoble blood,
I had thy blessing and forgiveness sought;
But fortune gave me such a noble love,
I dared not. To him Aurelio wedded me,
Breathing all holy blessings of the church;
For two short months I knew this bliss.
