Beatrice of Swabia
Thrill with the fancy of a monstrous doom
Awaiting me at last. I shudder, Constance.
Do you not shudder at him?
Cons. What, my child,
The noble Loria, my own foster-brother,
My faithful knight, my Pedro's loyal soldier,
Your brave deliverer? There, in yonder hall,
Betwixt those pillars, on his knee before me
He swore to bring you to me. He has brought you.
Do you not thank him?
Beat. You I kiss and thank,
And bless and worship; you, my queen and angel!
Cons. What means this pause? in what dream are you lost?
Beat. A dream of something that comes back to me.
A voice, a some one, as I stood prepared
To step into the boat that waited me,
A deep sweet voice—I think it trembled too—
A face too—'twas a young man's—beautiful
It seemed to me just in that fleeting moment.
I know he knelt to me, and kissed my hand,
And something said that had a proud, glad sound,
Then leapt into the boat—I think 'twas he—
And met me with his outstretched hand to guide me
As I stepped in. I had forgotten it;
But now I think of it again
Awaiting me at last. I shudder, Constance.
Do you not shudder at him?
Cons. What, my child,
The noble Loria, my own foster-brother,
My faithful knight, my Pedro's loyal soldier,
Your brave deliverer? There, in yonder hall,
Betwixt those pillars, on his knee before me
He swore to bring you to me. He has brought you.
Do you not thank him?
Beat. You I kiss and thank,
And bless and worship; you, my queen and angel!
Cons. What means this pause? in what dream are you lost?
Beat. A dream of something that comes back to me.
A voice, a some one, as I stood prepared
To step into the boat that waited me,
A deep sweet voice—I think it trembled too—
A face too—'twas a young man's—beautiful
It seemed to me just in that fleeting moment.
I know he knelt to me, and kissed my hand,
And something said that had a proud, glad sound,
Then leapt into the boat—I think 'twas he—
And met me with his outstretched hand to guide me
As I stepped in. I had forgotten it;
But now I think of it again
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