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In a saved brother's life, for all the tears, The bitter tears and anguish this has caused me?

Thy plea is also vain; away, away! Thy tears and anguish had been better comforted, Had he a more successful spoiler proved. Ha! thou too art upon me! Thou whose kindred And colleagues are of those who read good lore, And speak like holy saints, and act like fiends. By my brave father's soul, where'er it be, Thou art a seemly suitor for such favour! [Bursts away from them and exit.]

De Creda, good De Creda, dear De Creda! Wilt thou not follow him?

Not now; it were in vain; I might as well, While wreck of unroof'd cots and forest boughs, And sand and rooted herbage whirl aloft, Dark'ning the sky, bid the outrageous hurricane Spare a rock-cresting palm.—But yet despair not; I'll find a season. Let me lead thee hence.