affair with a girl now and then; but to marry, and knock one's vows on the head! Therein is displayed a little ancestral fact as to a certain respectable progenitor, commonly portrayed as the knight of the cloven foot. Keep back thy servant, &c.—Purgatory couldn't cleanse that; and more, 'twill never have the chance. Heaven be about us from harm! Amen. I'll go find the new count. The Church shall have the castle and estate; Revenge, in the person of the new count, the body of Julian; and Stephen may as well have the thousand pieces as not.
SCENE XVIII.—Night. The Nurse's room. LILIA; to her JULIAN
Lilia. How changed he is! Yet he looks very noble.
Enter JULIAN.
Julian.
My Lilia, will you go to England with me?
Lilia.
Julian, my father!
Julian.
Not without his leave.
He says, God bless us both.
Lilia.
Leave him in prison?
Julian.
No, Lilia; he's at liberty and safe,
And far from this ere now.
Lilia.
You have done this,
My noble Julian! I will go with you
To sunset, if you will. My father gone!
Julian, there's none to love me now but you.
You will love me, Julian?—always?
Julian.
I but fear
That your heart, Lilia, is not big enough
To hold the love wherewith my heart would fill it.
Lilia.
I know why you think that; and I deserve it.
But try me, Julian. I was very silly.
I could not help it. I was ill, you know;
Or weak at least. May I ask you, Julian,
How your arm is to-day?
Julian.
Almost well, child.
Twill leave an ugly scar, though, I'm afraid.
Lilia.
Never mind that, if it be well again.
Julian.
I do not mind it; but when I remember
That I am all yours, then I grudge that scratch
Or stain should be upon me—soul, body, yours.
And there are more scars on me now than I
Should like to make you own, without confession.
Lilia.
My poor, poor Julian! never think of it;
[Putting her arms round him.]
I will but love you more. I thought you had
Already told me suffering enough;
But not the half, it seems, of your adventures.
You have been a soldier!
Julian.
I have fought, my Lilia.
I have been down among the horses' feet;
But strange to tell, and harder to believe,
Arose all sound, unmarked with bruise, or blood
Save what I lifted from the gory ground.
[Sighing.]
My wounds are not of such.
[LILIA, loosening her arms, and drawing back a little with a kind of shrinking, looks a frightened interrogation.]
No. Penance, Lilia;
Such penance as the saints of old inflicted
Upon their quivering flesh. Folly, I know;
As a lord would exalt himself, by making
His willing servants into trembling slaves!
Yet I have borne it.
Lilia
(laying her hand on his arm).
Ah, alas, my Julian,
You have been guilty!
Julian.
Not what men call guilty,
Save it be now; now you will think I sin.
Alas, I have sinned! but not in this I sin.—
Lilia, I have been a monk.
Lilia.
A monk?
[Turningpale.]
I thought—
[Faltering.]
