100
ROMIERO: A TRAGEDY.
I should have thought of this before I went,
And urged him earnestly that no remissness
With thy relations may retard our bliss.
BEATRICE.
I fear to think of it.
MAURICE.
Shall I be jealous? O my gentle Beatrice!
I never will believe thee false to me,
Until such proof as that heaven's sun is bright
Shall flash upon me, and the agony
Will be my death-blow and prevent upbraiding.
BEATRICE.
In truth it makes me weep to think thou art.
MAURICE.
Think hopefully and cheerfully, I pray thee.
I feel within my breast a strong assurance
Thou never wilt prove false, nor I suspicious.
Where may I find Don Guzman?[Exeunt.