_Osorio._ Feeling! feeling! The death of a man--the breaking of a bubble. 155 'Tis true, I cannot sob for such misfortunes! But faintness, cold, and hunger--curses on me If willingly I e'er inflicted them! Come, share the beverage--this chill place demands it. Friendship and wine! [_OSORIO proffers him the goblet._ _Albert._ Yon insect on the wall, 160 Which moves this way and that its hundred legs, Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft, It were an infinitely curious thing! But it has life, Osorio! life and thought; And by the power of its miraculous will 165 Wields all the complex movements of its frame Unerringly, to pleasurable ends! Saw I that insect on this goblet's brink, I would remove it with an eager terror. _Osorio._ What meanest thou? _Albert._ There's poison in the wine. 170 _Osorio._ Thou hast guess'd well. There's poison in the wine. Shall we throw dice, which of us two shall drink it? For one of us must die! _Albert._ Whom dost thou think me? _Osorio._ The accomplice and sworn friend of Ferdinand. _Albert._ Ferdinand! Ferdinand! 'tis a name I know not. 175 _Osorio._ Good! good! that lie! by Heaven! it has restor'd me. Now I am thy master! Villain, thou shalt drink it, Or die a bitterer death. _Albert._ What strange solution Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears, And drug them to unnatural sleep? [_ALBERT takes the goblet, and with a sigh throws it on the ground._ _My_ master! 180 _Osorio._ Thou mountebank! _Albert._ Mountebank and villain! What then art thou? For shame, put up thy sword! What boots a weapon in a wither'd arm? I fix mine eye upon thee, and thou tremblest! I speak--and fear and wonder crush thy rage, 185 And turn it to a motionless distraction! Thou blind self-worshipper! thy pride, thy cunning, Thy faith in universal villainy, Thy shallow sophisms, thy pretended scorn For all thy human brethren--out upon them! 190 What have they done for thee? Have they given thee peace? Cured thee of starting in thy sleep? or made The darkness pleasant, when thou wakest at midnight? Art happy when alone? can'st walk by thyself With even step, and quiet cheerfulness? 195 Yet, yet thou mayst be saved. _Osorio (stupidly reiterating the word)._ Saved? saved? _Albert._ One pang-- Could I call up one pang of true remorse!