Alice: An Adultery

THE TWENTY-THIRD DAY “ He has strangled His language in his tears.” K. Hen. VIII My comedy has changed its blithe aspect To bitterest face of tragedy ; she said : “ Alas ! O soul of mine ! I am surely dead, Seeing my life is by a serpent wrecked Of sore disease : but spare me, and reflect That in few months I die : but were I wed— O lover ! O desire discomfited ! I die at once : consider, and elect.” How could I otherwise than spare my wife ? With tender lips and fingers one strong kiss Swooned slave-wise even before the gate of bliss, No more : for I rose up and cursed my life, Hating the God that made us to dissever So soon so sweet a love, and that for ever. Ut. Canc. sublatum iri dixisse. Vae Capricorno ! (Author’s Note.) 58