LISANDER: 
A man here!

JUSTINA: 
Have you not seen him?

LIVIA: 
No, Lady.

JUSTINA:  I saw him.

LISANDER:  ’Tis impossible; the doors 160
Which led to this apartment were all locked.

LIVIA [ASIDE]: 
I daresay it was Moscon whom she saw,
For he was locked up in my room.

LISANDER: 
It must
Have been some image of thy fantasy. 
Such melancholy as thou feedest is 165
Skilful in forming such in the vain air
Out of the motes and atoms of the day.

LIVIA: 
My master’s in the right.

JUSTINA: 
Oh, would it were
Delusion; but I fear some greater ill. 
I feel as if out of my bleeding bosom 170
My heart was torn in fragments; ay,
Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame;
So potent was the charm that, had not God
Shielded my humble innocence from wrong,
I should have sought my sorrow and my shame 175
With willing steps.—­Livia, quick, bring my cloak,
For I must seek refuge from these extremes
Even in the temple of the highest God
Where secretly the faithful worship.

LIVIA: 
Here.

NOTE: 
179 Where Rossetti; Which 1824.

JUSTINA [PUTTING ON HER CLOAK]: 
In this, as in a shroud of snow, may I 180
Quench the consuming fire in which I burn,
Wasting away!

LISANDER: 
And I will go with thee.

LIVIA: 
When I once see them safe out of the house
I shall breathe freely.

JUSTINA: 
So do I confide
In thy just favour, Heaven!

LISANDER: 
Let us go. 185

JUSTINA: 
Thine is the cause, great God! turn for my sake,
And for Thine own, mercifully to me!

***

STANZAS FROM CALDERON’S CISMA DE INGLATERRA.

TRANSLATED BY MEDWIN AND CORRECTED BY SHELLEY.

[Published by Medwin, “Life of Shelley”, 1847, with Shelley’s corrections in ’’.]

1. 
Hast thou not seen, officious with delight,
Move through the illumined air about the flower
The Bee, that fears to drink its purple light,
Lest danger lurk within that Rose’s bower? 
Hast thou not marked the moth’s enamoured flight 5
About the Taper’s flame at evening hour;
’Till kindle in that monumental fire
His sunflower wings their own funereal pyre?

2. 
My heart, its wishes trembling to unfold. 
Thus round the Rose and Taper hovering came, 10
’And Passion’s slave, Distrust, in ashes cold. 
Smothered awhile, but could not quench the flame,’—­
Till Love, that grows by disappointment bold,
And Opportunity, had conquered Shame;
And like the Bee and Moth, in act to close, 15
‘I burned my wings, and settled on the Rose.’