hermione.
I love the waxing
Yet rather than the wane of yon pale light:
Like timid maid, when first her opening charms
Meet love's warm beam. Scarce on the wanton boy
She dares to gaze, till, bolder grown, her eye
Averted still, or half withdrawn, drinks in,
With silent ecstacy, love's treacherous glance.
Now his fond smile, full orb'd, the embolden'd sight
Enamour'd meets: her very being, essence,
And every faculty absorb—each thought
Rising impregn'd with love's fierce fire; anon
There comes a change—shy gleams succeed, her brow
Hath one slight shade, scarce seen, but on its light
The darkness grows—love's brightest dream is o'er,
And his pale taper quench'd in utter gloom!
ridolfi.
Ay, till another change. Yon fickle goddess
Her fond, fool'd swain entices, till enamour'd
E'en to his heart's last core; she then averts
Her love-impassion'd glance, and, scorning, shuns him!
duchess.
If from deserted maid, Hermione,
Whose charms were withering in the fallow wane
Of an unprofited life, this speech forlorn
Had seem'd to ring the knell of her young hopes.
But when from rosy lips, and ardent youth,
It comes unlook'd for as a wintry chill
Beneath a summer sun.—This air blows keenly,
My locks fall with the dew—I think the night
Hath not its wonted soothness: thrice I shudder'd
As the cold breeze methought sigh'd on my bosom.
I must begone—Hermione, you go not.
'Tis the last moonlight you behold, mayhap,
In this brief stay; take a long parting, ere
Ye bid adieu—the Duke himself attends you;
With me, our brother his good presence grants,
Till your return.
ridolfi.
With such proud gallantry
I bow to your decree. [Exeunt Duchess and Ridolfi.
duke.
Beneath the western turret
I love to walk—to watch the huge dim battlements
On the smooth river sleeping, when the moon,
Low in the brightening east, their shadow throws
Upon its calm, cold bosom.
hermione.
Awhile I loiter with you there, my lord. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.
The Battlements.
Enter Duke and Hermione.
hermione.
A pleasant tale, you say?