_ Aye,
The rack, the grave, all--any thing with thee, 40
But the tomb last of all, for there we shall
Be
ignorant
of each other, yet I will
Share that--all things except new separation;
It is too much to have survived the first.
Byron
_Enter_ MARINA.
_Mar._ My best beloved!
_Jac. Fos._ (_embracing her_). My true wife,
And only friend! What happiness!
_Mar._ We'll part
No more.
_Jac. Fos._ How! would'st thou share a dungeon?
_Mar.
_ Aye,
The rack, the grave, all--any thing with thee, 40
But the tomb last of all, for there we shall
Be
ignorant
of each other, yet I will
Share that--all things except new separation;
It is too much to have survived the first.
How dost thou? How are those worn limbs? Alas!
Why do I ask? Thy paleness----
_Jac. Fos._ 'Tis the joy
Of seeing thee again so soon, and so
Without expectancy, has sent the blood
Back to my heart, and left my cheeks like thine,
For thou art pale too, my Marina!
_Mar._ 'Tis 50
The gloom of this eternal cell, which never
Knew sunbeam, and the sallow sullen glare
Of the familiar's torch, which seems akin[bl]
To darkness more than light, by lending to
The dungeon vapours its bituminous smoke,
Which cloud whate'er we gaze on, even thine eyes--
No, not thine eyes--they sparkle--how they sparkle!
_Jac. Fos._ And thine!--but I am blinded by the torch.
