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Ha! say'st thou more behind?—Or good or evil?

Mixed I ween: 'tis still in darkness lapp'd.

In darkness let it rest: I've heard enough. I would not look upon thine eyes again, And in my fancy shape thy unseen sights, For all that e'er——Is that which lies behind A far-extended vision? (Pausing anxiously.) Thou wilt not answer me—well, rest it so. But yet, O forward look for one short year, And say who then shall be this city's lord.

Thy husband and thy lord, most mighty dame, Shall at that period be this city's lord.

Then I am satisfied. Thou hast my thanks, My very grateful thanks. There is thy recompense, We shall meet again In happier days, when the proud crescent's low, And thou shalt have a princely recompense. (Turning to her Attendants as she goes away) Come, Lucia; come, my friends; the storm will pass,