And the unquiet and foreboding sense
That thus ’twill ever be, doth link itself
Darkly with all deep love! He died?
Her. Not so!
—Death! Death! Why, earth should be a paradise,
To make that name so fearful! Had he died,
With his young fame about him for a shroud,
I had not learn’d the might of agony
To bring proud natures low! No! he fell off—
Why do I tell thee this? what right hast thou