The old king
Died despairing, and his heir,
Lesbia, now the crown doth wear,
For her sister, hapless thing!
Poor Polonia . . . .
LUIS. Oh, that name
Do not mention! do not kill me
By repeating what doth thrill me
To the centre of my frame
As with lightning. Yes, I know
That at length Polonia died.
PAUL. Yes; our host was at her side
(He himself has told me so)
When they found her dead, and . . . .
LUIS. Cease!
Of her death, oh! speak no more,
'Tis sufficient to deplore,
And to pray that she's at peace.
PAUL. Leaving heathen sin and crime,
All the people far and near
Are become good Christians here.
For one Patrick, who some time
Now is dead . . . .
LUIS. Is Patrick dead?
PAUL. So I from our host have heard.
LUIS [aside]. Badly have I kept my word!--
But proceed.
PAUL. The teaching spread
Of the faith of Christ, and gave,
As a proof complete and whole
Of the eternity of the soul,
The discovery of a cave.--
Oh! it's the very name doth send
Terror through me.
LUIS. Yes, I have heard
Of that cave, and every word
Made my hair to stand on end.
Those who in the neighbourhood
Dwell, see wonders every day.
PAUL. Since, 'mid terror and dismay,
In your melancholy mood
You will no one hear or see,
Ever locked within your room,
It is plain you have not come
Aught to learn, how strange they be,
Of these things.
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