_Ad._ Many in battle Did fall so by my sword. _Des._ Ah, then, this wound Thou hast, it is incurable? _Ad._ Incurable. _Des._ Alas, atrocious war! And cruel I that made it. 'T is I kill thee. _Ad._ Not thou nor he _(pointing to Carlo)_, but the Lord God of all. _Des._ Oh, dear unto those eyes! how far away From thee I suffered! and it was one thought Among so many woes upheld me. 'T was the hope To tell thee all one day in some safe hour Of peace-- _Ad._ That hour of peace has come to me. Believe it, father, save that I leave thee Crushed with thy sorrow here below. _Des._ O front Serene and bold! O fearless hand! O eyes That once struck terror! _Ad._ Cease thy lamentations, Cease, father, in God's name! For was not this The time to die? But thou that shalt live captive, And hast lived all thy days a king, oh listen: Life's a great secret that is not revealed Save in the latest hour. Thou'st lost a kingdom; Nay, do not weep! Trust me, when to this hour Thou also shalt draw nigh, most jubilant And fair shall pass before thy thought the years In which thou wast not king--the years in which No tears shall be recorded in the skies Against thee, and thy name shall not ascend Mixed with the curses of the unhappy. Oh, Rejoice that thou art king no longer! that All ways are closed against thee! There is none For innocent action, and there but remains To do wrong or to suffer wrong. A power Fierce, pitiless, grasps the world, and calls itself The right. The ruthless hands of our forefathers Did sow injustice, and our fathers then Did water it with blood; and now the earth No other harvest bears. It is not meet To uphold crime, thou'st proved it, and if 't were, Must it not end thus? Nay, this happy man Whose throne my dying renders more secure, Whom all men smile on and applaud, and serve, He is a man and he shall die. _Des._ But I That lose my son, what shall console me? _Ad._ God! Who comforts us for all things. And oh, thou Proud foe of mine! _(Turning to Carlo.)_ _Carlo._ Nay, by this name, Adelchi, Call me no more; I was so, but toward death Hatred is impious and villainous. Nor such, Believe me, knows the heart of Carlo.