There! she is laid again--Some bedlam dream.
So--here I sit; am I a guardian angel
Watching by God's elect? or nightly tiger,
Who waits upon a dainty point of honour
To clutch his prey, till it shall wake and move?
We'll waive that question: there's eternity
To answer that in.
How like a marble-carven nun she lies
Who prays with folded palms upon her tomb,
Until the resurrection! Fair and holy!
O happy Lewis! Had I been a knight--
A man at all--What's this? I must be brutal,
Or I shall love her: and yet that's no safeguard;
I have marked it oft: ay--with that devilish triumph
Which eyes its victim's writhings, still will mingle
A sympathetic thrill of lust--say, pity.
Eliz. [awaking]. I am heard! She is saved!
Where am I? What! have I overslept myself?
Oh, do not beat me! I will tell you all--
I have had awful dreams of the other world.
1st Woman. Ay! ay! a fine excuse for lazy women,
Who cry nightmare with lying on their backs.
Eliz. I will be heard! I am a prophetess!
God hears me, why not ye?
Con. Quench not the Spirit:
If He have spoken, daughter, we must listen.
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