Scarce with more sudden terror and surprise,
From his black mask of nitre, touch’d by fire, 880
He bursts, expands, roars, blazes, and devours.
And is not this triumphant treachery,
And more than simple conquest, in the fiend?
And now, Lorenzo, dost thou wrap thy soul
In soft security, because unknown
Which moment is commission’d to destroy?
In death’s uncertainty thy danger lies.
Is death uncertain? Therefore thou be fix’d;