Cries but “Avenge me!”—and I go forth now
To slay his murderer, that when next his eyes
Gleam on me mournfully from that pale shore,
I may look up, and meet their glance, and say,
“I have avenged thee!”
Herrmann. Oh! that human love
Should be the root of this dread bitterness,
Till heaven through all the fever’d being pours
Transmuting balsam! Stay, Enonio! stay!
Thy brother calls thee not! The spirit-world