The
pavement
sinks under my feet!
Shelley
LUCRETIA, TO HER ENTER BEATRICE.
BEATRICE [SHE ENTERS STAGGERING AND SPEAKS WILDLY]:
Reach me that handkerchief! --My brain is hurt;
My eyes are full of blood; just wipe them for me. . .
I see but indistinctly. . .
LUCRETIA:
My sweet child,
You have no wound; 'tis only a cold dew
That starts from your dear brow. --Alas! Alas! _5
What has befallen?
BEATRICE:
How comes this hair undone?
Its wandering strings must be what blind me so,
And yet I tied it fast. --Oh, horrible!
The pavement sinks under my feet! The walls
Spin round! I see a woman weeping there, _10
And standing calm and motionless, whilst I
Slide giddily as the world reels. . . My God!
The beautiful blue heaven is flecked with blood!
The sunshine on the floor is black! The air
Is changed to vapours such as the dead breathe _15
In charnel pits! Pah! I am choked! There creeps
A clinging, black, contaminating mist
About me. . . 'tis 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!
