class="verse-align-noindent">Have smear’d upon another.I do not take you.

Theodora.My friend, I should have done the deed alone,

Or let him kill me!

Ostyn. Or let him kill me!That would have been clear murder.

Now, he being slain in combat, we are pure.

Theodora.Reason acquits me, but my heart is sour.

Ostyn.Except one thing, I laugh at it.

Theodora. Ostyn.Except one thing, I laugh at it.What is that?

Ostyn.Oh nothing—no matter.

Theodora. Ostyn.Oh nothing—no matter.Tell me, friend.

Ostyn. Theodora. Ostyn.Oh nothing—no matter.Tell me, friend.Oh leave it.

The thing is done—what matter.

Theodora. The thing is done—what matter.Except what thing?

Ostyn.This, that you toucht his arm. That was not wise,

And lends some colour to peevish conscience.

Tho’ huncht and small, believe it I am strong;

And sober-blooded; tuned with exercise

Which ever to ennoble this frail form

I have used. Single, I knew myself his match.

You needed not have toucht him.

Theodora. You needed not have toucht him.He was a soldier.

Ostyn.Rather for that I scorned him.

Theodora. Ostyn.Rather for that I scorned him.I fear’d for you.

Ostyn.Did I not wound him ere you toucht his arm?

I saw it in his eye he dreaded me—

As venomous-narrow’d as a guilty moon

Shrinking against the sunrise.

Theodora. Shrinking against the sunrise.Was that murder,

To touch his arm?

Ostyn. To touch his arm?No, truly, I would have kill’d him

Anyway.

Theodora.Oh, oh!

Ostyn. Theodora.Oh, oh!You noble woman, cease!

Let not your heart be weaker than your mind.

It is a curse to have a heart that boils

When reason bids be calm.

Theodora. When reason bids be calm.Is reason in it?

Ostyn.Yes, yes.

Theodora. Ostyn.Yes, yes.Where does the reason dwell then—here,

Or here?

Ostyn. Or here?  Come, my dear mistress, this is vain.

You work yourself to it.

(She looks around.)

Theodora. You work yourself to it.Where is the wind that blew?

What is this silence?—Ah! I dare not speak!

Each leaf here hangs its head at seeing me.

Ostyn.’Tis but the hush before another storm.

Look there, how thund’rous black it comes upon us.

Theodora.Hush, hush, hush. O forever

Henceforth to hush, to whisper in secret, lest

All things may hear and hang their heads at me!

Ostyn.Now, now!

Theodora. Ostyn.Now, now!O God, my children, my children!

Ostyn. Theodora. Ostyn.Now, now!O God, my children, my children!There.

God is their Father now.

Theodora. God is their Father now.Their father’s dead.

Ostyn.Come, come; give me your hands. You are atremble.

Why do you stare about you so?—till now

As tall and tearless as some Roman dame

Who flincht not ever? He fell in fight I say—

Full fair (would I had run him thro’