"Hunts. Ha! Where am I now? Is it indeed the dread abode of guilt, or refuge of a band of thieves? it cannot be a dream (sees REGINILLA.) Ha! if this be so, and I do dream, may I never wake— it is—my beating heart acknowledges my dear, gentle Reginilla. I'll not wake her, lest, if it be a phantom, it should vanish. Oh, balmy breath! but for thy soft sighs that come to tell me it is no image, I should believe … (bends down towards her.) a sigh from her heart!— thus let me arrest thee on thy way. (kisses her.) A deeper blush has flushed her cheek—sweet modesty! that even in sleep is conscious and resentful.—She will not wake, and yet some fancy calls up those frequent sighs—how her heart beats in its ivory cage, like an imprisoned bird—or as if to reprove the hand that dares approach its sanctuary! Oh, would she but wake, and bless this gloom with her bright eyes!—Soft, here's a lute—perhaps her soul will hear the call of harmony.
"Oh yield, fair lids, the treasures of my heart,
Release those beams, that make this mansion bright;
From her sweet sense, Slumber! tho' sweet thou art,
Begone, and give the air she breathes in light.
"Or while, oh Sleep, thou dost those glances hide,
Let rosy slumbers still around her play,
Sweet as the cherub Innocence enjoy'd,
When in thy lap, new-born, in smiles he lay.
"And thou, oh Dream, that com'st her sleep to cheer,
Oh take my shape, and play a lover's part;
Kiss her from me, and whisper in her ear,
Till her eyes shine, 'tis night within my heart.
[Footnote: I have taken the liberty here of supplying a few rhymes and words that are wanting in the original copy of the song. The last line of all runs thus in the manuscript:—
"Till her eye shines I live in darkest night,"
which, not rhyming as it ought, I have ventured to alter as above.]
"Reg. (waking.) The phantom, father! (seizes his hand.) ah, do not, do not wake me then. (rises.)
"Hunts. (kneeling to her.) Thou beauteous sun of this dark world, that mak'st a place, so like the cave of death, a heaven to me, instruct me how I may approach thee—how address thee and not offend.
"Reg. Oh how my soul would hang upon those lips! speak on—and yet, methinks, he should not kneel so—why are you afraid, Sir? indeed, I cannot hurt you.