POLONIA. Ah me! my fate pursuing,
I have but only worked my own undoing,
Like to the worm that by its subtle art
Spins its own grave. Hast thou a human heart?
LUIS. I am a demon. So to prove it, die.
Thus —
POLONIA. God of Patrick, listen to my cry!
[He stabs her several times, and she falls within.
LUIS. She fell on flowers, there sowing
Both lives and horrors in her blood outflowing.
Thus now with greater ease
I can escape, and carry o'er the seas,
In many a gem and chain,
Treasure enough to make me rich in Spain,
Until so changed by time,
Disguised by wandering in a foreign clime,
I may return to reap
My vengeance; for a wrong doth never sleep.
But whither do I stray,
Treading the shades of death in this dark way?
My path is lost: I go
Whither I do not know;
Perchance escaping from my prison bands
To fall again into my tyrant's hands.
If the dark night doth not my sight deceive,
Yonder a rustic cabin I perceive.
Yes, I am right. I'll knock; I can't much err,
They'll know the way.
[He knocks.
* * * * *
SCENE XI.
PAUL and LUCY. — LUIS.
LUCY [within]. Who's there?
LUIS. A traveller,
Benighted, his way lost, confused, distressed,
Good worthy husbandman, disturbs thy rest.