Get thee gone: The dead man is a ghost, and our love too, Flits like a ghost about its desolate tomb, And wanders through this charnel house, and weeps That when you slew your lord you slew it also. Do you not see? DUCHESS I see when men love women They give them but a little of their lives, But women when they love give everything; I see that, Guido, now. GUIDO Away, away, And come not back till you have waked your dead. DUCHESS I would to God that I could wake the dead, Put vision in the glazéd eves, and give The tongue its natural utterance, and bid The heart to beat again: that cannot be: For what is done, is done: and what is dead Is dead for ever: the fire cannot warm him: The winter cannot hurt him with its snows; Something has gone from him; if you call him now, He will not answer; if you mock him now, He will not laugh; and if you stab him now He will not bleed. I would that I could wake him! O God, put back the sun a little space, And from the roll of time blot out to-night, And bid it not have been! Put back the sun, And make me what I was an hour ago! No, no, time will not stop for anything, Nor the sun stay its courses, though Repentance Calling it back grow hoarse; but you, my love, Have you no word of pity even for me? O Guido, Guido, will you not kiss me once? Drive me not to some desperate resolve: Women grow mad when they are treated thus: Will you not kiss me once? GUIDO [_holding up knife_] I will not kiss you Until the blood grows dry upon this knife, [_Wildly_] Back to your dead! DUCHESS [_going up the stairs_] Why, then I will be gone! and may you find More mercy than you showed to me to-night! GUIDO Let me find mercy when I go at night And do foul murder. DUCHESS [_coming down a few steps_.]