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 from out the envious night or festal day I give to it. You sir, perchance are deeply read.

. (distantly) But little I assure you. I must go.

. I, the same way.

. Farewell! I I trust to meet again, Sir Artist.

Exit and.

. Was it all safe?

. Mine own hands gave it in.

. How much I owe you Franz!

. Tush! it's a child squeals if a drop falls:

. But you rain kindness–I have no return.

. I calculate on your success to pay The debt you owe me. I'll demand it then, Fiercely indeed.

. But not for me the Crown, Of good achieved–preeminence, or power. This feeble effort cast into the world, Is like the cry a sinking swimmer sends Into the lightless dark; no shore! no sail! And I must sink like him: for on my hands I wear the fetters–youth and poverty.

. Why! this one prize is not the world–this day Thy life-long hope. Thou hast not yet o'erlooked The cradle of thy mother's arm; thy strength TO what it will be, is an infant's

. Well! I'll drown remembrance in a draught of love; In one hour I will meet thee. Exit.

. There is some magic in this friend of mine, That feeds my captious soul with gentlest milk, And makes me love him. God grant him success– Tho' that's impossible, the fruit's too high! Exit.

. But you will win!

. No, no! there is no hope! Who sees the moon within a sunny sky– A pebble amongst jewels–save to scoff And cast it out.

. It shall not be; it will not be!

. Truth terrifies, but only in her breast Lie peach, and power. Think thou then no thought Of victory; consider what I am: Feel strong as I do; even to place the wreath