Mar. 'Twas there I swooned——
Kent. The dagger in thy hand——
Mar. Yes, in my hand, but, Hubert—hear me, Hubert!
I saw you come from Glaia's curtained bed,
Slow and despairing, murmuring "She sleeps,"
As though you said she slept to wake no more.
I entered, saw her pale, drew back the coverlet—
There ran the stream that drained her beauty's rose—
There lay your dagger—yours. And then I thought
By dying there to save your life and name,