With rude impatience, ere I have found time
To con a gentle answer. Pardon me
If any phrase or word or glance of mine
Hath bred or nourished in your heart a hope
That you might win my love. It cannot be.
LORENZO.
A word, a glance ! Why, the whole frozen statue
Warmed into life. Surely it was not you.
You must have bribed some angel with false prayers
To wear your semblance nay, no angel served,
But devilish witchcraft
MARIA.
Sir, enough, enough!
I hoped to find here peace and solitude.
These lacking, I retire. Farewell.
LORENZO.
Signora,
I will not rob you of your own. Farewell to you.
MARIA.
Where have you flown, bright dreams? Has that rude hand
Sufficed to dash to naught your frail creations?
Sad thoughts and humors black now fill my soul.
