(_CECCO goes._

FULVIA: Reason, Antonio.

She will but whimper, tell what overmuch Of grief her mistress makes for you: of tears Your sunny coming will dry in her.

ANTONIO (_putting her aside_): These Hours come not of any good, but are Infected with resolved adversity.

This dread!----

FULVIA: They ever dread who have but quit The shadow of some doom and the dismay.

_Re-enter CECCO, with PAULA weeping._

ANTONIO: Girl! girl! Thy mistress?

PAULA (_shrinking_): O!----

ANTONIO: I am no ghost.

Thy mistress?

PAULA: Mary, Mother! (_Sinks praying._)

ANTONIO (_lifting her up_): Look on me. See!

I have not been down in the grave, nor ev'n A moment beyond earth. Do you not hear!

PAULA (_looking at him_): Sir!

ANTONIO: Tell me.

PAULA (_hysterically_): Go to her, O, go to her.

ANTONIO: But, child----?

PAULA: She, O!--go seek her, O, she is----

ANTONIO: Where, Paula?

PAULA: Blind all day she moaned and wept.

ANTONIO: My Helena!

PAULA: And when the sun was gone, Came quiet, kissed me--O, go seek her, sir!

ANTONIO: Kissed you----?

PAULA: Then to me gave these jewels. O!

And darkly cloaked stole out into the night.

CHARLES: Alone?

ANTONIO: Whither, quick, whither?

PAULA: Ah, I do Not know: but she----

ANTONIO: Pray, pray, tell out your dread.

PAULA: Last night she said, "My heart is in my lord Antonio's to beat or cease with it."

I learned her words--they seemed so pretty.

Charles (_gasping_): Ah!

ANTONIO: Why do you gasp?--Paula----

CHARLES: If she--the cliff!

ANTONIO: The cliff! The--?

(_Staggers dizzily, then rushes out._

CHARLES: Let one go with him--bring Us what hath pa.s.sed--hath pa.s.sed.

(_A SOLDIER goes._

PAULA (_with uncontrollable terror_): My lady!

CHARLES: Child, I cannot bear thy voice upon my heart!

It hath a tone--a clutch--no more, no more!

I cannot bear it! We must wait. No hap Has been--no hap, I think--surely no hap.

_Enter BARDAS deprecatingly, followed by ANTONIO._

BARDAS: Antonio! not in the sea? You live?

ANTONIO: I say, where is she?

BARDAS: You are mortal?

ANTONIO (_groaning with impatience_): O This utter superst.i.tion! (_p.r.i.c.king his arm._) Is it not blood?

BARDAS: You live! and live? but let her think your death!

You let her! still devising for yourself Safety and preservation!

ANTONIO: She's not safe?

BARDAS: O, safe--if she had shrift!

CHARLES (_hoa.r.s.ely_): The dead are so!

BARDAS: Ay, so.

ANTONIO: And none above the grave?--no answer?

BARDAS: She came unto the cliff amid her tears-- Her being all into one want was fused, You down the wave to follow.