_Des._ 'T is terrible
For me to see thee so!

_Ad._ Many in battle
Did fall so by my sword.

_Des._ Ah, then, this wound
Thou hast, it is incurable?

_Ad._ Incurable.

_Des._ Alas, atrocious war!
And cruel I that made it. 'T is I kill thee.

_Ad._ Not thou nor he _(pointing to Carlo)_, but the
Lord God of all.

_Des._ Oh, dear unto those eyes! how far away
From thee I suffered! and it was one thought
Among so many woes upheld me. 'T was the hope
To tell thee all one day in some safe hour
Of peace--

_Ad._ That hour of peace has come to me.
Believe it, father, save that I leave thee
Crushed with thy sorrow here below.

_Des._ O front
Serene and bold! O fearless hand! O eyes