—Moraima!—speak to me!
Mor. (covering herself with her veil.) I can but weep!
Is it even so?—this love was born for tears!
Aymer! I can but weep! (going to leave him, he detains her.)
Aym. Hear me, yet hear me! I was rear’d in arms;
And the proud blast of trumpets, and the shouts
Of banner’d armies—these were joy to me,
Enough of joy! Till you!—I look’d on you—
We met where swords were flashing, and the light
Of burning towers glared wildly on the slain—