Whose loyal breast asks no embrace less chill
Than the cold tomb where my dear father lies?
Oc. 'Twas but a word.
The. Unsay it, O, unsay it!
Oc. Ay, by our island's god, 'twas never spoken!
The. I've scarce a breath, Ocrastes.
Oc. And that breath
This kiss must drink. You will forgive? Speak not.
These clinging lips have told me. A kiss, Theano,
Unseals all secrets but to be their grave.