Of noisy human struggles; to be heard
Above man's babbling thunders, and to say
Their voice hath been most powerful.[Exit Hermon.
Scene II.—An apartment in Mazarini's house. Alvernon lying on a couch—Azlea bending over him.
Enter Mazarini and a Fisherman.
Fish. The vessel was wrecked off our coast; I found him lying on the rocks, sadly bruised. I think he will recover; so leaving him in your care, I must away.[Exit Fisherman.
Azlea. The stranger—oh, he lives! I feel his pulse
Flutter as quick, and soft, and varyingly
As a fine harp-string in the impatient wind.
Maz. Life struggles for the mastery with death;
The cordials you have given him will restore
The inanimate pulse, and bring the breath
Back to his death white lips. And yet perchance
Our kindness is a cruelty to him,
If he should wake to find his hopes all wrecked—
A wife or sister buried in the sea,
Or his wealth wasted. Human hopes are frail,
And one night may have blasted his for aye.
Azlea. We will be kind to him, as to a brother,
And heal his wounds, and soothe his broken spirit,
That he may not die grieving for his loss.
Maz. He will not, child; not many mourn so well.
Azlea. I'll bring him fruit and flowers to drive away
The loneliness of solitude; and sing
The softest airs I know; and tell him tales
Of magic and of love. Would it be wrong
To entertain him thus? It seems to me
