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Lost to the one, and to the other link'd By horrid sympathy, till his wrench'd nature Should to a demon's fell and restless spirit At last be changed.

Alas, alas! and dost thou then believe That nought remains for thee but death or misery?

No, gentle Portia! firmly I believe That I shall live in endless happiness, And with the blest hereafter shall behold Thy blessed self with ecstasy of love, Exceeding every thought of earth-born passion, As the fair morning star in lovely brightness Excels a night-fly, twinkling through the gloom. Live in this hope, dear Portia! hold it fast; And may His blessing rest upon thy head, Who loves the loving and the innocent! Farewell, in love and hope! farewell, in peace! Farewell, in quick'ning faith,—in holy joy!

Nay, let me yet conjure thee! Make me not wretched, I who once was happy, And happiest of all in loving thee.

This is mine anguish and my suffering! O, good Sulpicius! bear her to her home.