RIBERA.
Away ! I know thee. Thou art one
With her who duped me with like words last night.
Then I believed ; but now my sense is closed,
My heart is dead as stone. I cast thee forth.
By heaven, I own thee not ! Thou dost forget
I am the Spagnoletto. Away, I say,
Or ere I strike thee. [He threatens her.
ANNICCA.
Woe is me ! Help, help !
[Exit.
RIBERA.
So, the last link is snapt. Had I not steeled
My heart, I fain had kissed her in farewell.
Tis better so. I leave my work unfinished.
Could I arise each day to face this spectre,
Or sleep with it at night ? to yearn for her
Even while I curse her? No! The dead remain
Sacred and sweet in our remembrance still ;
They seem not to have left us ; they abide
And linger nigh us in the viewless air.
The fallen, the guilty, must be rooted out
From heart and thought and memory. With them
No hope of blest reunion ; they must be
As though they had not been ; their spoken name
