Behold the waves
Are gaping to receive them! still he cries
"Back, back, or I will fire!"--their reply
Comes in a roar of wild defiant groans.
PLAINTIVE--PURE.
_Pauline_. Thrice have I sought to speak: my courage fails me.
Sir, is it true that you have known--nay, are you
The friend of--Melnotte?
_Melnotte_. Lady, yes!--Myself
And Misery know the man!
_Pauline_. And you will see him,
And you will bear to him--ay--word for word,
All that this heart, which breaks in parting from him
Would send, ere still for ever.
_Melnotte_. He hath told me
You have the right to choose from out the world
A worthier bridegroom;--he foregoes all claim
Even to murmur at his doom. Speak on!
_Pauline_. Tell him, for years I never nursed a thought
That was not his; that on his wandering way
Daily and nightly poured a mourner's prayers.
Tell him ev'n now that I would rather share
His lowliest lot,--walk by his side, an outcast,--
Work for him, beg with him,--live upon the light
Of one kind smile from him, than wear the crown
The Bourbon lost!
_Melnotte (aside)_.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122