Beatrice of Swabia
Let us no more
Utter our joys in tears. Speak, speak to me;
I have scarce heard thy voice yet.
Beat. Have I died?
And is this Paradise?
Utter our joys in tears. Speak, speak to me;
I have scarce heard thy voice yet.
Beat. Have I died?
And is this Paradise?
SCENE.—A Court and Fountain in the Ziza
Palace. Constance finds Beatrice alone
Palace. Constance finds Beatrice alone
Cons. Why that start, that cry?
What thus affrights thee, dear?
Beat. I was so lost
In gazing, wondering at this shower of light,
Striving to call all back to memory,
That when I heard your step, I thought, I thought,
My gaoler had surprised me. Still it haunts me,
That grating key. I never can quite trust
That I am free to open any door,
To pass from room to room, and step between
Those airy arches into Paradise.
Oh, feathery foliage, oh, delicious blue!
And none to call me back, to draw again
A sable curtain over this sweet world,
And lock me in my tomb once more.
Cons. Poor uncaged dove!
Beat. Let me sit by you. Still was I in fancy
What thus affrights thee, dear?
Beat. I was so lost
In gazing, wondering at this shower of light,
Striving to call all back to memory,
That when I heard your step, I thought, I thought,
My gaoler had surprised me. Still it haunts me,
That grating key. I never can quite trust
That I am free to open any door,
To pass from room to room, and step between
Those airy arches into Paradise.
Oh, feathery foliage, oh, delicious blue!
And none to call me back, to draw again
A sable curtain over this sweet world,
And lock me in my tomb once more.
Cons. Poor uncaged dove!
Beat. Let me sit by you. Still was I in fancy
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