24
UGOLINO.
But since thou knowst it, hear me whilst I swear,
Should'st thou by word, or look or sign reveal it,
Nay, should'st thou mutter it but in thy dreams,
(For I will watch thee e'en whilst thou sleep'st)
Thy heart's best blood shall answer for thy treason.
Ang. If thou dost hope forgiveness for thyself! [Seizing cloak.
Count. Fool! I do not, I have nor hope, nor fear,
One only passion rules within my breast,
Revenge! it brooks no joint sovereignty,
'Tis up and raging ! come not in its course,
Like the hot sand storm of the desert plain,
Or the swol'n torrent bursting from its bounds,
Death and destruction join its wild career,
Crushing, confounding all that would obstruct it.
Let go thy hold!
Ange. Not till my prayers are heard. [Loud thunder.
Hark!
The angry heavens speak in thunder to thee,
O, hear their awful voice, tho' deaf to mine,
'Tis an offended God that bids thee hold!
Whose vengeance falls on those, who vengeance seek.
Count. My wrongs cry louder than the storm, away! [Thunder.
What is yon elemental war, compared
To that which rages here,—yon howling rack
Will brawl itself to rest, and morn behold
The bright sun rolling through unclouded ether;
But on my nighted soul no day can rise,
No morning zephyrs lull its storms to sleep.
What! what remains then? but that its wild rage
Should ruin her whose wizzard spell hath rais'd it,—
Moments are ages till the bolt is sped,
And thou delay'st it, thus officious fool!
Thus do I dash thee from me, hence or die!
[Throwing her from him and drawing sword.
Ange. Strike if thou dars't, I fear thee not; the Doge,
Since tears nor prayers can pierce thy stony heart,
I'll to him, and denounce thee;—To all Venice
Will I proclaim thy fiendish villany,
Thou most remorseless monster!
Count. [furiously.] Threaten'd! Worm!
Down to the dust that bred thee. [stabs her.] Perish, traitor!
And with thee die the secret.
Ange. God forgive thee!
My aim's accomplish'd—wretch'd Ugolino!
Had all thine acts been merciful as this,
What pangs had I been spar'd, kind death, thou sav'st me,
From being longer an accessary
To crimes, which I but labor'd to prevent,
And from the dread, but sole alternative,
A fatal accusation against one,
Should'st thou by word, or look or sign reveal it,
Nay, should'st thou mutter it but in thy dreams,
(For I will watch thee e'en whilst thou sleep'st)
Thy heart's best blood shall answer for thy treason.
Ang. If thou dost hope forgiveness for thyself! [Seizing cloak.
Count. Fool! I do not, I have nor hope, nor fear,
One only passion rules within my breast,
Revenge! it brooks no joint sovereignty,
'Tis up and raging ! come not in its course,
Like the hot sand storm of the desert plain,
Or the swol'n torrent bursting from its bounds,
Death and destruction join its wild career,
Crushing, confounding all that would obstruct it.
Let go thy hold!
Ange. Not till my prayers are heard. [Loud thunder.
Hark!
The angry heavens speak in thunder to thee,
O, hear their awful voice, tho' deaf to mine,
'Tis an offended God that bids thee hold!
Whose vengeance falls on those, who vengeance seek.
Count. My wrongs cry louder than the storm, away! [Thunder.
What is yon elemental war, compared
To that which rages here,—yon howling rack
Will brawl itself to rest, and morn behold
The bright sun rolling through unclouded ether;
But on my nighted soul no day can rise,
No morning zephyrs lull its storms to sleep.
What! what remains then? but that its wild rage
Should ruin her whose wizzard spell hath rais'd it,—
Moments are ages till the bolt is sped,
And thou delay'st it, thus officious fool!
Thus do I dash thee from me, hence or die!
[Throwing her from him and drawing sword.
Ange. Strike if thou dars't, I fear thee not; the Doge,
Since tears nor prayers can pierce thy stony heart,
I'll to him, and denounce thee;—To all Venice
Will I proclaim thy fiendish villany,
Thou most remorseless monster!
Count. [furiously.] Threaten'd! Worm!
Down to the dust that bred thee. [stabs her.] Perish, traitor!
And with thee die the secret.
Ange. God forgive thee!
My aim's accomplish'd—wretch'd Ugolino!
Had all thine acts been merciful as this,
What pangs had I been spar'd, kind death, thou sav'st me,
From being longer an accessary
To crimes, which I but labor'd to prevent,
And from the dread, but sole alternative,
A fatal accusation against one,
