And follows me to the resort of men, And fills my slumber with tumultuons dreams,

So when I wake my blood seems liquid fire;

And if I strike my damp and dizzy head,
My hot palm scorches it; her very name,
But spoken by a stranger, makes my heart
Sicken and pant; and thus unprofitably 140
I clasp the phantom of unfelt delights
Till weak imagination half possesses
The self-created shadow. Yet much longer
Will I not nurse this life of feverous hours.
From the unravelled hopes of Giacomo
I must work out my own dear purposes.
I see, as from a tower, the end of all:
Her father dead; her brother bound to

me

By a dark secret, surer than the grave; Her mother scared and unexpostulating 150

From the dread manner of her wish achieved;

And she! Once more take courage, my faint heart;

What dares a friendless maiden matched with thee?

I have such foresight as assures success.
Some unbeheld divinity doth ever,

When dread events are near, stir up men's minds

To black suggestions; and he prospers best,

Not who becomes the instrument of ill, But who can flatter the dark spirit that makes

Its empire and its prey of other hearts 160 Till it become his slave-as I will do.

Is changed to vapors such as the dead breathe

In charnel-pits! Pah! I am choked!
There creeps

A clinging, black, contaminating mist
About me - - 't is substantial, heavy, thick;
I cannot pluck it from me, for it glues
My fingers and my limbs to one another, 20
And eats into my sinews, and dissolves
My flesh to a pollution, poisoning
The subtle, pure, and inmost spirit of life!
My God! I never knew what the mad felt
Before; for I am mad beyond all doubt!
(More wildly)

No, I am dead! These putrefying limbs
Shut round and sepulchre the panting soul
Which would burst forth into the wander-
ing air!
(A pause)
What hideous thought was that I had even

now?

29

'Tis gone; and yet its burden remains here O'er these dull eyes upon this weary heart!