—23—
To die—of course; but after that,
I wonder if I live again!
And if I live again, for what?—
To suffer? … Bah!—there is no pain
But one; and that I know so well
That I can shame the devil's eyes! …
For twenty years I’ve heard in hell
What Mona sings in Paradise!
Strange, that a little Northern girl
Should love my brother Calderon,
And set my brain so in a whirl
That I was mad till she was gone! …
I wonder if all men be such
As I?—I wonder what love is!—
I never loved her very much
Until I saw that she was his;—
And then I knew that I was lost:
And then—I knew that I was mad.—
I reasoned what it all would cost,
But that was nothing.—I was glad
To feel myself so foul a thing!—
And I was glad for Calderon. …
My God! if he could hear her sing
Just once, as I do!—There! she's done. …
No, it was only something wrong
A minute—something in my head.—
God, no!—she'll never stop that song
As long as I'm alive or dead!
As long as I am here or there,
She'll sing to me, a murderer!—
Well, I suppose the gods are fair. …
I killed her … yes, I poisoned her!
But yon, Francisco,—you are young;—
So take my hand and hear me, now:—
There are no lies upon your tongue,
There is no guilt upon your brow.—
But there is blood upon your name?—
And blood, you say, will rust the steel
