Within the veins of God, should sink its fang
Into thy bosom and sear out thy heart.
If it is so, this momentary calm,
This silence pouring overfull the world,
Would rush and in thee cry until thy bones
Broken of guilt are crumbled in thy groans.
Dead, she is dead?
MIRIAM
No, David, my lord, he lies!
[Strangely, as in a trance.]