Our doom one day!
Her. The mantle of that day
May wrap the fate of Spain!
Elm. What led me here?
Why did I turn to thee in my despair?
Love hath no ties upon thee; what had I
To hope from thee, thou lone and childless man?
Go to thy silent home!—there no young voice
Shall bid thee welcome, no light footstep spring
Forth at the sound of thine! What knows thy heart?