Count Paris (within).
Seek every glade and nook for Elena!
Julia.
O whither dare I fly? my father's voice
I hear without. The Count with jealous rage
Seeks sweet Elena.
For Romeo, too, my angry father shouts.
Old Capelete enters, and seeing in the obscure dawn what he
imagines to be the spirit of the dead Julia, addresses her thus:
Old Capelete.
Oh, heavenly maiden in angelic garb,
Art thou a spirit from the shades of death?
How cam'st thou here? Deceitful shade,
All glistening in the garb of life, yet dead!
'Twas thine own hand that did the fatal deed,
Thyself that gave the poisoned draught.
Julia.
Approach me not, thou mortal shape, nor seek
To thread these forest glades in swift pursuit.
She goes, but meeting the Count, returns.
Julia (aside).
The Count! my blood, like very ice,
Seems curdling in my veins!
