Page:Castelvines y Monteses Translated.pdf/103

82 Within Verona's walls. Each one did go With downcast eye and silently all grief and woe. The youths and maidens follow close the bier; The old men, too, in vain repress the tear.

Roselo. Why poison thus my anxious soul?

Anselmo. Listen!

Roselo. Listen, say'st thou? Either thou art mad, Or I some comprehension lack. Why juggle thus? Julia dead, and then entomb'd, And thou say'st listen?

Anselmo. Such wondrous history as I shall relate Was never heard till now.

Roselo. I did rejoice when thou didst say she wedded not. Think'st thou I do so now, my angel dead?

Anselmo. Listen!

Roselo. What need, if Julia be entomb'd?

Anselmo. Much.

Roselo. Like some grave leeches, thou, Anselmo, doth By letting blood, drain ebbing life by drops, Thus killing hope and slaying step by step. My grief will gulph my reason soon. Go on—what more of Julia?

Anselmo. Much; and that of great import, too.

Roselo. If there be one drop of comfort in the rest, I will be calm, and listen patiently.

Anselmo. The good Aurelio at this time did seek me out To speak upon this matter; these his words:— How Julia, writing in perplexity, recounts Her sad adventure and her bitter woe; And at the end these words were writ:— Ere thou this letter will have read, My dagger shall my heart's blood wed.