Bardas: Yes——
Antonio: Then—well?
Bardas: She had a phial.
Antonio: God! God!
Bardas: Out of her breast she drew it swift,
And instant of it drank.
Antonio: Drank? and she fell?
No?—no?—Ah but you dashed it from her lips?
She did but taste?——
Bardas: Only: and then——
Antonio: More? more?
Bardas: "Is 't not enough," she pled to me, "Enough
That I must wander the cold way of death
Unto his arms? Go hence! There is no rest.
I will go down and clasp him, drift with him
To some unhabited gray ocean vale
God hath forgot. There will we dwell away
From destiny and weeping, from despair!"
Charles: You left her?