Giovanni.
Yes, in the grave,
When this perturbed heart has ceased to beat,
These throbbing pulses rest—Oh, no, not then:
Here and hereafter endless misery
Must be my lot—eternity of pain!
Helena.
Shrink not, my husband, from my fond caress;
Sorrow shall not come nigh thee in my arms;
I'll chase away the fiend.—Oh! thou hast sworn,
A thousand times, that I possessed the power
To sooth thee in thy direst woe, but now
You turn away.
Giovanni.
Grief hath bedimmed each sense—
A dull and torpid weight is on my heart.
Helena.
Alas! thou dost not love me.
Giovanni.
In the skies,.
Upon the earth 'tis written, red with blood—
