Streams are born, a coiled-up snake When its path the streamlet finds, Scarce a silver serpent winds 'Mong the flowers it must forsake, But a song of praise doth wake, Mournful though its music be, To the plain that courteously Opes a path through which it flies:-- And with life that never dies, Must I have less liberty? When I think of this I start, Aetna-like in wild unrest I would pluck from out my breast Bit by bit my burning heart:-- For what law can so depart From all right, as to deny One lone man that liberty -- That sweet gift which God bestows On the crystal stream that flows, Birds and fish that float or fly? ROSAURA. Fear and deepest sympathy Do I feel at every word. SIGISMUND. Who my sad lament has heard? What! Clotaldo! CLARIN [aside to his mistress]. Say 'tis he. ROSAURA. No, 'tis but a wretch (ah, me!) Who in these dark caves and cold Hears the tale your lips unfold. SIGISMUND. Then you'll die for listening so, That you may not know I know That you know the tale I told. [Seizes her.] Yes, you'll die for loitering near: In these strong arms gaunt and grim I will tear you limb from limb. CLARIN. I am deaf and couldn't hear:-- No! ROSAURA. If human heart you bear, 'Tis enough that I prostrate me. At thy feet, to liberate me! SIGISMUND. Strange thy voice can so unbend me, Strange thy sight can so suspend me, And respect so penetrate me! Who art thou? for though I see Little from this lonely room, This, my cradle and my tomb. Being all the world to me, And if birthday it could be, Since my birthday I have known But this desert wild and lone, Where throughout my life's sad course I have lived, a breathing corse, I have moved, a skeleton; And though I address or see Never but one man alone, Who my sorrows all hath known, And through whom have come to me Notions of earth, sky, and sea; And though harrowing thee again, Since thou'lt call me in this den, Monster fit for bestial feasts, I'm a man among wild beasts, And a wild beast amongst men. But though round me has been wrought All this woe, from beasts I've learned Polity, the same discerned Heeding what the birds had taught, And have measured in my thought The fair orbits of the spheres; You alone, 'midst doubts and fears, Wake my wonder and surprise -- Give amazement to my eyes, Admiration to my ears. Every time your face I see You produce a new amaze: After the most steadfast gaze, I again would gazer be. I believe some hydropsy Must affect my sight, I think Death must hover on the brink Of those wells of light, your eyes, For I look with fresh surprise, And though death result, I drink. Let me see and die: forgive me; For I do not know, in faith, If to see you gives me death, What to see you not would give me; Something worse than death would grieve me, Anger, rage, corroding care, Death, but double death it were, Death with tenfold terrors rife, Since what gives the wretched life, Gives the happy death, despair!