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O God! you have not drunk it, Beatrice?

       Tell me you have not?

      DUCHESS

       Were I to deny it,

       There is a fire eating at my heart

       Which would find utterance.

      GUIDO

       O treacherous love,

       Why have you not left a drop for me?

      DUCHESS

       No, no, it held but death enough for one.

      GUIDO

       Is there no poison still upon your lips,

       That I may draw it from them?

      DUCHESS

       Why should you die?

       You have not spilt blood, and so need not die:

       I have spilt blood, and therefore I must die.

       Was it not said blood should be spilt for blood?

       Who said that? I forget.

      GUIDO

       Tarry for me,

       Our souls will go together.

      DUCHESS

       Nay, you must live.

       There are many other women in the world

       Who will love you, and not murder for your sake.

      GUIDO

       I love you only.

      DUCHESS

       You need not die for that.

      GUIDO

       Ah, if we die together, love, why then

       Can we not lie together in one grave?

      DUCHESS

       A grave is but a narrow wedding-bed.

      GUIDO

       It is enough for us

      DUCHESS

       And they will strew it

       With a stark winding-sheet, and bitter herbs:

       I think there are no roses in the grave,

       Or if there are, they all are withered now

       Since my Lord went there.

      GUIDO

       Ah! dear Beatrice,

       Your lips are roses that death cannot wither.

      DUCHESS

       Nay, if we lie together, will not my lips

       Fall into dust, and your enamoured eyes

       Shrivel to sightless sockets, and the worms,

       Which are our groomsmen, eat away your heart?

      GUIDO

       I do not care: Death has no power on love.

       And so by Love’s immortal sovereignty

       I will die with you.

      DUCHESS

       But the grave is black,

       And the pit black, so I must go before

       To light the candles for your coming hither.

       No, no, I will not die, I will not die.

       Love, you are strong, and young, and very brave;

       Stand between me and the angel of death,

       And wrestle with him for me.

       [Thrusts GUIDO in front of her with his back to the audience.]

       I will kiss you,

       When you have thrown him. Oh, have you no cordial,

       To stay the workings of this poison in me?

       Are there no rivers left in Italy

       That you will not fetch me one cup of water

       To quench this fire?

      GUIDO

       O God!

      DUCHESS

       You did not tell me

       There was a drought in Italy, and no water:

       Nothing but fire.

      GUIDO

       O Love!

      DUCHESS

       Send for a leech,

       Not him who stanched my husband, but another

       We have no time: send for a leech, I say:

       There is an antidote against each poison,

       And he will sell it if we give him money.

       Tell him that I will give him Padua,

       For one short hour of life: I will not die.

       Oh, I am sick to death; no, do not touch me,

       This poison gnaws my heart: I did not know

       It was such pain to die: I thought that life

       Had taken all the agonies to itself;

       It seems it is not so.

      GUIDO

       O damnéd stars

       Quench your vile cresset-lights in tears, and bid

       The moon, your mistress, shine no more tonight.

      DUCHESS

       Guido, why are we here? I think this room

       Is poorly furnished for a marriage chamber.

       Let us get hence at once. Where are the horses?

       We should be on our way to Venice now.

       How cold the night is! We must ride faster.

       [The Monks begin to chant outside.]

       Music! It should be merrier; but grief

       Is of the fashion now - I know not why.

       You must not weep: do we not love each other? -

       That is enough. Death, what do you here?

       You were not bidden to this table, sir;

       Away, we have no need of you: I tell you

       It was in wine I pledged you, not in poison.

       They lied who told you that I drank your poison.

       It was spilt upon the ground, like my Lord’s blood;

       You came too late.

      GUIDO

       Sweet, there is nothing there:

       These things are only unreal shadows.

      DUCHESS

       Death,

       Why do you tarry, get to the upper chamber;

       The cold meats of my husband’s funeral feast

       Are set for you; this is a wedding feast.

       You are out of place, sir; and, besides, ‘tis summer.

       We do not need these heavy fires now,

       You scorch us.

       Oh, I am burned up,

       Can you do nothing? Water, give me water,

       Or else more poison. No: I feel no pain -

       Is it not curious I should feel no pain? -

       And Death has gone away, I am glad of that.

       I thought he meant to part us. Tell me, Guido,

       Are you not sorry that you ever saw me?

      GUIDO

       I swear I would not have lived otherwise.

      

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