Page:Castelvines y Monteses Translated.pdf/106

Rh Had it been a year—a month—a week— A day—as love grew stronger so the pain Should have grown more intense.

Count. Oh, that such bliss had but been mine! I cannot cheat my grief, the soul will pine.

Servant. With great Verona's noble Lord Antonio Castelvin doth audience crave.

Verona (aside to ). See with what courage he doth bear his woe!

Antonio. I come not, sir, to fill thine ears With lamentations deep, nor yet with tears To wring your soften'd hearts. Nor tell How much in error cruel Death hath been To respite one whose life hath spann'd Some steps beyond the goal. 'Tis said that Love and Death a journey went In winter—I marvel much that Love should journey thus With one who could so chill his loving heat, For death is wintry cold.—Howbeit, they journey'd on, Until the hostelry in sight, there lying down They slept well past the midnight-hours: Rising in the misty light exchanged their darts, And bidding each adieu did journey on Their separate roads; and as they went, Each fitted feathered shaft and twang'd his bow. But after this the young men died, And old men fell in love. The interchange Once made could never be annull'd. In mine own house now 'tis seen, alas! My daughter Julia dead. Otavio, too,