Part 2 — SCENE IV.—The inn; a room upstairs. JULIAN at the window, half hidden by the curtain.
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Julian. With what profusion her white fingers spend Delicate motions on the insensate cloth! It was so late this morning ere she came! I fear she has been ill. She looks so pale! Her beauty is much less, but she more lovely. Do I not love he? more than when that beauty Beamed out like starlight, radiating beyond The confines of her wondrous face and form, And animated with a present power Her garment's folds, even to the very hem!
Ha! there is something now: the old woman drest In her Sunday clothes, and waiting at the door, As for her husband. Something will follow this. And here he comes, all in his best like her. They will be gone a while. Slowly they walk, With short steps down the street. Now I must wake The sleeping hunter-eagle in my eyes!