ABBESS.

I will speak with him,
Ere he confess her, since we know him not.
Follow me, child, and see if she have waked.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

MARIA.

Oh, that wild dream! My weary bones still ache
With the fierce pain; they wrenched me limb from limb.
Thou hadst full cause, my father. But thou, Juan,
What was my sin to thee, save too much love?
Oh, would to God my back were crooked with age,
My smooth cheek seamed with wrinkles, my bright hair
Hoary with years, and my quick blood impeded
By sluggish torpor, so were I near the end
Of woes that seem eternal! I am strong —
Death will not rescue me. Within my veins
I feel the vigorous pulses of young life.
Refusing my release. My heart at times