The priceless cloak of thy own worthless shame?
But I can save him! I will make thee speak,
Unsistered woman!
[Draws back the curtains, leaving them open, showing the inner room and bed on which Glaia lies]
Glaia, now I'll look,
Nor all thy grace shall hide the lines that mark
Thy cruel mother. Can this be the face
That breeds such misery? Fair heaven-case
Of innocence!... My Hubert's niece, so mine.
How lily-cold in sleep! And still ... so still.