Tor. Hear this, hear this, thou tribune of the people!
Thou zealous, public blood-hound, hear, and melt!
Raym. [Aside.]
I could cry now; my eyes grow womanish,
But yet my heart holds out.
Leo. Some solitary cloister will I chuse,
And there with holy virgins live immured:
Coarse my attire, and short shall be my sleep,
Broke by the melancholy midnight bell.
Now, Raymond, now be satisfied at last:
Fasting and tears, and penitence and prayer,
Shall do dead Sancho justice every hour.
Raym. [Aside.] By your leave, manhood! [Wipes his eyes.
Tor. He weeps! now he is vanquished.
Raym. No: 'tis a salt rheum, that scalds my eyes.
Leo. If he were vanquished, I am still unconquered.
I'll leave you in the height of all my love,
Even when my heart is beating out its way,
And struggles to you most.
Farewell, a last farewell, my dear, dear lord!
Remember me!—speak, Raymond, will you let him?
Shall he remember Leonora's love,
And shed a parting tear to her misfortunes?
Raym. [Almost crying.] Yes, yes, he shall; pray go.
Tor. Now, by my soul, she shall not go: why, Raymond,
Her every tear is worth a father's life.
Come to my arms, come, my fair penitent!
Let us not think what future ills may fall.
But drink deep draughts of love, and lose them all. [Exeunt Tor. with the Queen.
Raym. No matter yet, he has my hook within him.
Now let him frisk and flounce, and run and roll,
477 And think to break his hold; he toils in vain.
This love, the bait he gorged so greedily,
Will make him sick, and then I have him sure.