Oh, break this weary silence which doth vex Thy father's darkened soul ; ono day and more Have we lived through since fate united us ! And still thou hidest, nnrevcalcd to me, Tho story of thy woes. ADALBERT. Oh, Father mino ! PHILIP. Am I not that ? Oh, think ! brief moments now Remain to us, the vessel claims us soon, But hero wo aro unwitnessed ; Adalbert ! Shall then thy father, shall thine earliest friend, Shall ho who by like sorrow hath been mado Associato in woe, not share thy grief ? ADALBERT (who during this speech has been staring before him, lost in thought). In such a hideous night—yes, I will tell You all ;—though I have long forborne to kill Your peace with such a poison-breath ; enough That you desire it, and I will !—In such A night my Agnes gave me her last kiss ; The morrow should our endless union seal : The guests were ready, everything prepared, I went from her that evening, light of heart ; The fury of tho terrible north-wind To me seemed airs from Eden. What love is Tell me yourself, my father !—In its eyes What shows so black but with a roseate huo It can invest it ? PHILIP (darkly). Trnly? Can it that ? Then it shall tint black murder's raven-clouds For mo with blood of ravished roses ! (Excitedly.) King Philip ! ADALBERT (with enthusiasm). My Agnes' spirit, wilt thou that ?— What, silent still !— 211 THE TEMPLARS IX CYPRUS. [ACT VI.