II.
ROME. A Lady's apartment, with a window open and looking into a garden.
Lalage, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which like some books
and a hand mirror. In the background Jacinta (a servant maid) leans carelessly
upon a chair.
Lal. Jacinta! is it thou?
Jac. (pertly.) Yes, Ma'am, I'm here.
Lal. I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting.
Sit down!—let not my presence trouble you—
Sit down!—for I am humble, most humble.
Jac. (aside.) 'Tis time.
(Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon the
chair, resting her elbows upon the back, and regarding
her mistress with a contemptuous look. Lalage
continues to read.)
Lal. "It in another climate, so he said,
"Bore a bright golden flower, but not i' this soil!"
(pauses—turns over some leaves, and resumes.)
"No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower—
"But Ocean ever to refresh mankind
"Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind."
Oh, beautiful!—most beautiful!—how like
To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven!
O happy land! (pauses.) She died!—the maiden died!
O still more happy maiden who couldst die!
Jacinta!
(Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes.)
Again!—a similar tale
