Page:Castelvines y Monteses Translated.pdf/120

Rh Lucio. I fly with winged heels, my lord.

Antonio. Good Tamar, well I know in frosty age This is excess, and still my hope's for one Who shall succeed, and so inherit all. This is no new creed I preach, and for the fault I'll find a thousand pleas of exculpation; Slowly creeps the shade of blacken'd night, From lowly valley to the mountain's peak, Within his chariot dark.

No reason this why Dorotea's coach Should be benighted; a lover now would rave In ecstasy; but grey hairs are more grave.

Preserve, me heaven, what noise is that? Sure 'tis the thunder's echo that I hear! It seems as if the wheels of sound Had snapp'd their axles, and in one dread crash Tumbled in atoms to the earth. The strength of blood is not so sound In creeping age as 'tis in lusty youth; My hair doth stand on end in truth.

Julia (unseen above). Father, father!

Antonio. Great heavens, I know that voice, 'tis—

Julia. Father!

Antonio. 'Tis Julia's voice, or fear creates the sound.

Julia. Listen, ungrateful father mine, If thou hast ears to hear; from out Beyond the clouds of death I speak.

Antonio. It is indeed my Julia's voice!