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Shall I again, a renovated soul, Into the blessed family of the good Admittance have? Think'st thou that this may be? Speak if thou canst; O speak me comfort here! For dreadful fancies, like an armed host, Have push'd me to despair. It is most horrible— O speak of hope! if any hope there be.

De Mon. Ha! dost thou pray for me? heav'n hear thy prayer! I fain would kneel—Alas! I dare not do it.

Jane. Not so; all by th' Almighty Father form'd May in their deepest mis'ry call on him. Come kneel with me, my brother.

De Mon. Hear'st thou that noise? They come to interrupt us.

Jane (Moving towards a side door.) Then let us enter here.

''De Mon. (Catching hold of her with a look of horrour.)'' Not there—not there—the corps—the bloody corps.

Jane. What, lies he there?—Unhappy Rezenvelt!