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Thy lavish bounty. I have heard dark tales Of his apostacy. A renegade Amid the Turks, who, in a Christian land, Can think him less than demon? On my soul He hath imprinted such a dread, I ne'er Can taste or peace or comfort whilst he haunts Our Paradise. Giovanni, give him gold; Let him have all he asks, but send him hence. I do not laugh, Helena, at thy fears, Though they are groundless.—Ask me not to play A tyrant's part, and exile from the shed Which he hath called his home, that much-wronged man. He is thine enemy, Giovanni. No; And if he were, his sufferings might excuse A hostile feeling.