Lio. When I first that hand did claim,
Was I not repulsed with laughter?
Did that hand not heavy chains
Heap upon me, heedless after?
No, this hand which yesterday,
But yesterday did drive me forth,
Though today 'tis kind again
Ah, to me 'tis nothing worth!
Lady H. O, he is cruel!
Lio. Love is turned to hate!
I thought her sent by heav'n to bless,
To shed around her happiness;
What deep and glowing ecstasy
Filled all my heart
When first she smiled on me!
Lady H. Oh, can these eyes, grown dim with grief,
And wan with tears, seek to betray you?
Oh, doubt me not, for I am thine.
Lio. I ne'er again can call thee mine!
Dead for aye my trust in thee
Hateful art thou grown to me!
(Lionel rushes of the stage. Lady H. sinks weeping into the arms of Nancy.)
Plun. Courage, my lady! I see in this very frenzy a hopeful change. His apathy and indifference were far worse. At least you waked him up. Better luck next time.
Nan. Go, my lady, and come back again in the simple little dress of Martha. When he sees you so it will call up the old memories and then—if you sing to him—surely his strange hallucination will not continue. (Lady H. goes off.)
Plun. Poor lass, my heart aches for her—or it would, if it were not so busy aching for itself.
Nan. Yes, it is hardest of all for you—you have loved Lord Lionel so long.