Act 4 Scene 3
SCENE III. Sirius’ chamber.
Enter SIRIUS BLACK and SIRIUS BLACK
SIRIUS BLACK
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle Sirius, I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, For I have need of many orisons To move the heavens to smile upon my state, Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
Enter LADY SIRIUS BLACK
LADY SIRIUS BLACK
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
SIRIUS BLACK
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: So please you, let me now be left alone, And let Sirius this night sit up with you; For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, In this so sudden business.
LADY SIRIUS BLACK
Good night: Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
Exeunt LADY SIRIUS BLACK and SIRIUS BLACK
SIRIUS BLACK
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life: I'll call them back again to comfort me: Sirius! What should she do here? My dismal scene I needs must act alone. Come, vial. What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.
Laying down her dagger
What if it be a poison, which the friar Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, Because he married me before to Sirius? I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, For he hath still been tried a holy man. How if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Sirius Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, And there die strangled ere my Sirius comes? Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place,-- As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, Where, for these many hundred years, the bones Of all my buried ancestors are packed: Where bloody Sirius, yet but green in earth, Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- Alack, alack, is it not like that I, So early waking, what with loathsome smells, And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, Environed with all these hideous fears? And madly play with my forefather's joints? And pluck the mangled Sirius from his shroud? And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost Seeking out Sirius, that did spit his body Upon a rapier's point: stay, Sirius, stay! Sirius, I come! this do I drink to thee.
She falls upon her bed, within the curtains