But they are all dispersed--and, lo! she stands Looking in idle grief on her white hands, Alone within the garden now her own; _40 And through the sunny air, with jangling tone, The music of the merry marriage-bells, Killing the azure silence, sinks and swells;-- Absorbed like one within a dream who dreams That he is dreaming, until slumber seems _45 A mockery of itself--when suddenly Antonio stood before her, pale as she. With agony, with sorrow, and with pride, He lifted his wan eyes upon the bride, And said--'Is this thy faith?' and then as one _50 Whose sleeping face is stricken by the sun With light like a harsh voice, which bids him rise And look upon his day of life with eyes Which weep in vain that they can dream no more, Ginevra saw her lover, and forbore _55 To shriek or faint, and checked the stifling blood Rushing upon her heart, and unsubdued Said--'Friend, if earthly violence or ill, Suspicion, doubt, or the tyrannic will Of parents, chance or custom, time or change, _60 Or circumstance, or terror, or revenge, Or wildered looks, or words, or evil speech, With all their stings and venom can impeach Our love,--we love not:--if the grave which hides The victim from the tyrant, and divides _65 The cheek that whitens from the eyes that dart Imperious inquisition to the heart That is another's, could dissever ours, We love not.'--'What! do not the silent hours Beckon thee to Gherardi's bridal bed? _70 Is not that ring'--a pledge, he would have said, Of broken vows, but she with patient look The golden circle from her finger took, And said--'Accept this token of my faith, The pledge of vows to be absolved by death; _75 And I am dead or shall be soon--my knell Will mix its music with that merry bell, Does it not sound as if they sweetly said "We toll a corpse out of the marriage-bed"? The flowers upon my bridal chamber strewn _80 Will serve unfaded for my bier--so soon That even the dying violet will not die Before Ginevra.' The strong fantasy Had made her accents weaker and more weak, And quenched the crimson life upon her cheek, _85 And glazed her eyes, and spread an atmosphere Round her, which chilled the burning noon with fear, Making her but an image of the thought Which, like a prophet or a shadow, brought News of the terrors of the coming time. _90 Like an accuser branded with the crime He would have cast on a beloved friend, Whose dying eyes reproach not to the end The pale betrayer--he then with vain repentance Would share, he cannot now avert, the sentence-- _95 Antonio stood and would have spoken, when The compound voice of women and of men Was heard approaching; he retired, while she