RIBERA.
We are well alone—
Are we not, darling ? Thanks for the calm content
Wherewith thou biddest him farewell, to nestle
Once more in mine embrace. Not long, I feel,
May these old horny eyes be blest with sight
Of thy full-flowering grace, these wrinkled lips
Be pressed against thy brow. I am no more
What I have been ; at times both hand and brain
Refuse their task. Myself will follow soon
The better part of me already dead.
So the worm claims us by slow torture, child.
Thou It bear with me, if as to-day I wrong
Thy gentle spirit ?
MARIA.
Father, no more, no more !
You break my heart.
RIBERA.
Mine angel-child, weep not
So bitterly. I thought not thus to move thee.
Still thou art overwrought. I would have asked
At last a promise of thee. I am selfish,
But I would sleep less startingly o nights,
And bear a calmer soul by day, were I secure
That thou wilt bide with me until the end.
[A pause.
