Cuts like a knife. When I essay to think
Of what hath passed to-day, my sick brain reels.
The letter I remember, but all since
Floats in a mist of horror, and I grasp
No actual form. Did I not wander forth ?
A mob surrounded me. All Naples knew
My downfall, and the street was paved with eyes
That stared into my soul. Then friendly hands
Guided me hither. When I woke, I felt
As though a stone had rolled from off my brain.
But still this nightmare bides the truth. I know
They watch me, they suspect me. I will wait
Till the whole household sleep, and then steal forth,
Nor unavenged return.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
DON TOMMASO.
If he still live, now shall we hear of him.
The news I learn will lure him from his covert,
Where er it lie, to pardon or avenge.
ANNICCA (eagerly}.
What news ? What cheer, Tommaso ?
