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Look on yon heaven, Castruccio, and think Of thine own glorious future.

Has life no service I could render thee?

What is there I could ask of thee but love?

I cannot part with thee: I had forgotten That there were sweet and gentle thoughts in life; Let me do something for thy sake, my loved one.

Oh, death, this is thy agony!

The council will have met—I must away; Who could restrain my followers in their fear If I were missing? but not yet farewell, I have so much to say, so much to ask. We meet again, Claricha; I must seek At least to be thy friend; we meet again.

Alas! why should we meet? it is in vain.

I cannot choose, my heart beats quick with joy: Youth, hope, and tenderness return with thee.

For thine own sake, Castruccio, fare-thee-well.

Stay yet one moment; if thou didst but know How faithfully this heart has kept thy name, Its sad and secret music; years have past