CHARLES (_desperately_): None, fool! but come to say what silence
groans,
What earth numb and in deadness raves to me.
To tell Antonio hath gone out and o'er
A precipice hath stepped for sake of love.
This is not tidings--hath it not on me
Been fixed forever? It is older than
Despair, as old as pain! (_To HAEMON, who has entered._) Your
sister----
BARDAS: Haemon----!
CARDINAL: Hold him not in this anguish.
FULVIA: She and our
Antonio have left us to our tears.
(_HAEMON stands motionless._)
CHARLES: Let no one groan. I say let no one groan--
Fury on him that groans! (_He blindly rocks to and fro._)
FULVIA: My lord!
CHARLES (_taking her hand_): Well--come.
(_As in a trance._)
There's much to do. We will think of the dead.
Perchance 'twill keep them near us: speak to them,
And they may answer while we wait, may float
Dim words on moonbeams to us. O for one
That shall sound of forgiveness and of rest!
(_More wildly._)
O I have started on the mountain's brow
A tremor that has loosed the avalanche;
And penitence too late--too late--too late--
Was powerless as flowers along its path!
(_He sinks back into his chair and stares hopelessly before
him._)