An Empty Glass.
204
[Max sleeps. Hortense rises, examines medicines,
reads directions on bottle, smells, and tastes the mixture.]
reads directions on bottle, smells, and tastes the mixture.]
Hortense—
So this is what they're giving him. I see.
Ten drops in every hour. Here in my hand
I hold the key of this entanglement.
Ten drops, and weak and feeble as he is
Another ten and all were over. Free
His fettered life. My jealous heart assuaged.
Another ten, and he would still be mine,
The lover of my youth. My own! My own!
That he should live means, let me think it out,
A few sweet moments stolen from the dark,
A flash of rapture edged with jagged pain,
Slow convalescence. Kisses poison-sweet
Caught at the verges of a sheer abyss,
The hot blood boiling in my jealous veins
At hideous tension. Just one fatal glance,
One word unguarded, one untutored look,
And scandal hundred-mouthed would grin at me.
And if I should escape, there still would be
The torture of her presence, and her voice,
The note of ownership, her claiming hands,
The imbecile unloosing of her tears,
So this is what they're giving him. I see.
Ten drops in every hour. Here in my hand
I hold the key of this entanglement.
Ten drops, and weak and feeble as he is
Another ten and all were over. Free
His fettered life. My jealous heart assuaged.
Another ten, and he would still be mine,
The lover of my youth. My own! My own!
That he should live means, let me think it out,
A few sweet moments stolen from the dark,
A flash of rapture edged with jagged pain,
Slow convalescence. Kisses poison-sweet
Caught at the verges of a sheer abyss,
The hot blood boiling in my jealous veins
At hideous tension. Just one fatal glance,
One word unguarded, one untutored look,
And scandal hundred-mouthed would grin at me.
And if I should escape, there still would be
The torture of her presence, and her voice,
The note of ownership, her claiming hands,
The imbecile unloosing of her tears,
