[dh]
When I am gone--it may be sooner than
Even these years warrant, for there is that stirring
Within--above--around, that in this city
Will make the cemeteries populous
As e'er they were by
pestilence
or war,--
When I _am_ nothing, let that which I _was_
Be still sometimes a name on thy sweet lips, 510
A shadow in thy fancy, of a thing
Which would not have thee mourn it, but remember.
Byron
_Doge_. It were in vain!
Joy's recollection is no longer joy,
While Sorrow's memory is a sorrow still.
_Ang_. At least, whate'er may urge, let me implore
That you will take some little pause of rest:
Your sleep for many nights has been so turbid,
That it had been relief to have awaked you,
Had I not hoped that Nature would o'erpower
At length the thoughts which shook your slumbers thus. 490
An hour of rest will give you to your toils
With fitter thoughts and freshened strength.
_Doge_. I cannot--
I must not, if I could; for never was
Such reason to be watchful: yet a few--
Yet a few days and dream-perturbed nights,
And I shall slumber well--but where?--no matter.
Adieu, my Angiolina.
_Ang_. Let me be
An instant--yet an instant your companion!
I cannot bear to leave you thus.
_Doge_. Come then,
My gentle child--forgive me: thou wert made 500
For better fortunes than to share in mine,
Now darkling in their close toward the deep vale
Where Death sits robed in his all-sweeping shadow.
[dh]
When I am gone--it may be sooner than
Even these years warrant, for there is that stirring
Within--above--around, that in this city
Will make the cemeteries populous
As e'er they were by
pestilence
or war,--
When I _am_ nothing, let that which I _was_
Be still sometimes a name on thy sweet lips, 510
A shadow in thy fancy, of a thing
Which would not have thee mourn it, but remember.
Let us begone, my child--the time is pressing.
SCENE II.--_A retired spot near the Arsenal_.
ISRAEL BERTUCCIO _and_ PHILIP CALENDARO.[409]
_Cal_. How sped you, Israel, in your late complaint?
