So sedulously guard from all rough truths
That else would break upon my dotage!—You—
Whom now I see preventing my old shame—
I tell not, point by cruel point, my tale—
For is't not in your breast my brow is hid?
Is not your hand extended? Say you not ...
(Enter D'Ormea, leading in Polyxena.)
Pol. [Advancing and withdrawing Charles—to Victor.]
In this conjuncture even, he would say
(Though with a moistened eye and quivering lip)