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Angel of mercy! bright celestial saint! I would have spared thee all the agony Which thou wilt suffer at my shameful death! Forgive this weakness, or forget it, sweet, And think me still a hardened, heartless wretch— A dark assassin, who could coldly frown Upon thy matchless tenderness: my crime Hath merited thy hate. My Veronica, I have involved thee in my ruin; thou Wilt never taste of happiness again; This weak and selfish spirit could not bear The trial. Blessed beyond imagination, I feel thy gentle tears bedew my cheek. O, Sforza! when I knelt before the king, Vainly to sue thy pardon—when thy foes Prevailed against me, this devoted heart Felt not such keen, such agonizing, pain As followed thy cold looks, thy bitter words.