SCENE III.
Night in Ribera’s Garden. Don John alone.
DON JOHN.
In any less than she, so swift a passion,
So unreserved, so reckless, had repelled.
In her t is godlike. Our mutual love
Was born full-grown, as we gazed each on each.
Nay, t was not born, but like a thing eternal,
It was ere we had consciousness thereof;
No growth of slow development, but perfect
From the beginning, neither doomed to end.
Her garden breathes her own warm, southern beauty,
Glowing with dewy and voluptuous bloom.
Here I am happy happy to dream and wait
In rich security of bliss. I know
How brief an interval divides us now.
She hastes to meet me with no less impatience
Than mine to clasp her in my arms, to press
Heart unto heart, and see the love within
The unfathomable depths of her great eyes.
She comes. Maria !
Enter MARIA, half timid, half joyous.
MARIA.
My lord ! you have been waiting ?
