 | Antonia |  |
180
SCENE XVI.
ANTONIA.Was it not him? 'Twas Carravagio then:
Yet he has ever seem'd to me respectful;
And by the enthusiasm of his art,
Wholly enchanted. This detested fox
Wears an audacious smile, which more than once,
Has, with a terrible presage, alarm'd me.
Yet Carravagio too said I was safe,
For he would not betray.—Both know it then.
But which?—Who is the guilty thief of me?
Whom shall I charge to my belov'd Urbano?
And will he credit me? Alas! alas!
I must no longer claim him for my lord.
Yet, have I never felt one swerving thought
From the pure tenour of my marriage vow,
But ever been in my allegiance faithful.
Faithful!—O God! am I a faithless wife?
I, who so hop'd in lofty pride of mind,
To show our sensual italian dames,
That Portia, nor the mother of the Grachii,
Were fictions feign'd. Oh! what have I become?
Sunk to a level with the pronest vile,
And most abhorrent to my wretched self.
| Antonia | |