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 can I deserve that angelic goodness, how can I make amends for your uncommon tenderness?" "Is this all that pains you? Have you not deserved my love long since? The best amends you can make for my tenderness is to return my love."

"O, then, I have deserved it, and made ample amends; and you, Adelheid, are in my debt. After this poor heart of mine has wasted almost all its vital powers in a nameless grief, you ask why it bleeds? Oh! it is dreadful to love without hope; and a tranquil return of a violent passion is more galling to a spoiled, insatiable heart, than the most rancorous hatred."

A torrent of tears gushed from her eyes, and she began, after a short pause, "You are very unhappy, Carlos, if my tenderness does not suffice you. I have frequently asked myself, in the hours of silent melancholy, whether I am capable of a more ardent love than that which my heart feels for you? I do not think I am. Tell me, dear Carlos, what do you defire me to do?" "What I desire? Can words describe