32
Los Bandos de Verona.
Count.
What! Julia here?
Old Capelete.
It is no living Julia standing there;
For did not we in Capelete's vault
Last evening lay her dead?
Count.
If it be not sweet Julia's self, who can it be?
Old Capelete.
Hush! 'tis some spirit from a brighter sphere,
A vision that I dare not look upon.
I gaze, and lo! she fades, as yonder moon
Doth veil her beauty 'neath the vaporous cloud.
Oh, divine symbol of a cruel death,
Why cam'st thou hither, sweet angelic spirit,
Laden with the garb of life, yet lifeless?
I see, and yet I see not! Is't a dream?
Count.
Since we both see, it is no dream, methinks.
Then, let our sense of touch decide if she
Be mortal or divine.
Julia.
Be mortal or divine. Touch not! beware!
