Osorio. Feeling! feeling!
The death of a man—the breaking of a bubble. 155
'Tis true, I cannot sob for such misfortunes!
But faintness, cold, and hunger—curses on me
If willingly I e'er inflicted them!
Come, share the beverage—this chill place demands it.
Friendship and wine! [Osorio proffers him the goblet.

Albert. Yon insect on the wall, [160]
Which moves this way and that its hundred legs,
Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft,
It were an infinitely curious thing!
But it has life, Osorio! life and thought;
And by the power of its miraculous will [165]
Wields all the complex movements of its frame
Unerringly, to pleasurable ends!
Saw I that insect on this goblet's brink,
I would remove it with an eager terror.

Osorio. What meanest thou?

Albert. There's poison in the wine. [170]

Osorio. Thou hast guess'd well. There's poison in the wine.
Shall we throw dice, which of us two shall drink it?
For one of us must die!

Albert. Whom dost thou think me?

Osorio. The accomplice and sworn friend of Ferdinand.

Albert. Ferdinand! Ferdinand! 'tis a name I know not. [175]

Osorio. Good! good! that lie! by Heaven! it has restor'd me.
[[591]] Now I am thy master! Villain, thou shalt drink it,
Or die a bitterer death.

Albert. What strange solution
Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears,
And drug them to unnatural sleep? [Albert takes the goblet, and with a sigh throws it on the ground.
My master! [180]