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Thou art more strong than I am—yet not so, I see thy cheek is pale, thine eye is wet, I cannot leave thee.

I pray your pardon, but the need is great; The late attempt fills all your friends with fear, Not mine to check their angry eagerness, Which now is fain to seek thee, sword in hand.

To stay is madness now; my brief delay May be atoned in blood. Love, now farewell.

I pray you, lady, urge his speed.

Farewell! farewell!

Meet me again, Claricha, meet me here; Here, with high Heaven, and the dead around, Fit for farewell like ours. Sternly I feel The pressure of my duty to the land, Whose people are entrusted to my keeping; But I cannot part with thee, and know so little Of thy uncall'd-for future.

Good, my lord.

Claricha, most beloved, I dare not stay, With life on every moment, bid me go.