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Join at the holy altar kindred souls, Though my torn heart should split in the attempt. Young Julian will refuse the gift: his love, At least, has cooled; and dull satiety Usurps the place of passion. To thine arms, To hide her infamy, the false girl Would gladly fly. Liar and fiend accursed! My eager sword thirsts for thy blood; this earth On which thou stand'st should be thy sepulchre, But that I pant to drag thy dastard form To open day, to force thy serpent tongue Before assembled multitudes to prove Thine own dishonours, clear my injured fame, And give thee up to obloquy and scorn. The most deceitful, desperate wretch would fear To cast a blot on Veronica's name. Secure in virgin innocence she stands;