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THE SPAGNOLETTO.
239
Beams from your eyes—a gentler grace is throned
Upon your brow—your words fall soft as dew
To melt my fixed resolve.
MARIA.
You find me, signer,
In an unguarded mood. I would be true
To you; and to myself; yet, know no answer.
Anon, I will be calm; pray you withdraw.
LORENZO.
Till when? Remember what mad hopes and fears
Meantime will riot in my brain.
MARIA.
To-morrow
Farewell, farewell.
LORENZO (kisses her hand).
Farewell. [Exit.
MARIA.
A faithful heart,
A name untainted, a fair home yea, these
Are what I need. Oh, lily soul in heaven,
Who wast on earth my mother, guide thy child!
While Maria sits rapt in thought, enter from behind her, Annicca, who bends over her and kisses her brow.
