Charles: Yet have I killed;
Spoke death with them—not reasonless—yet death.
And all the lost have echoes of it: hear
You not a spirit clamor on the air?
Ploughing as storms of pain it passes through me.
Mutiny? Go. I could call chaos fair,
And fawn on infinite ruin—fawn and praise.
(Soldier goes.
Yet will not yield! (To Cecco.) My robes and coronet!
(Cecco goes to obey.
I'll sit in them and mock at greatness that
A passion may unthrone. If we weep not
Calamity will leave to torture us,
And fate for want of tears will thirst to death!
Enter Cardinal.
Ah, priestly sir.
Cardinal: Infuriate man!
Charles: Speak so.
I lust for bitterness.
Cardinal: What have you done!
Charles (shuddering, then smiling): Watched the sun set. Did it not, think you, bleed
Unwontedly along the waves?
Cardinal: O horror!
Horrible when a father slays and smiles!
Charles: Not so, lord Cardinal, not so!—but when
He slays and smileth not.
Cardinal: Beyond all mercy!