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Happy in holy union with another,

Shares not my wayward fortunes. Nor would I

Now these tokens send, remembrance to awaken,

But that I know her happy; and the happy

Can think on misery and share it not.

. (Agitated.)

Some one approaches.

. Why, 't is near the time!

But tell me, Bland, say,—is the manner chang'd?

. I hope it, but I yet have no assurance.

. Well, well!

. (Without.) I must see him.

. Whose voice was that?

My senses!—Do I dream? (Leans on .)

. Where is he?

. 'T is she!

(Starts from and advances towards ; she rushes into his arms.)

. It is enough! He lives, and I shall save him.

. She sinks—assist me, Bland! O, save her, save her!

(Places her in a chair and looks tenderly on her.)

Yet, why should she awake from that sweet sleep?

Why should she ope her eyes—(wildly)—to see me hung!

What does she here? Stand off—(tenderly)—and let her die.

How pale she looks! How worn that tender frame!—

She has known sorrow! Who could injure her?

. She revives—André—soft, bend her forward.

( kneels and supports her.)

. André!—

. Lov'd excellence!

. Yes, it is André!

(Rises and looks at him.)

No more deceived by visionary forms,

By him supported—(Leans on him.)

. Why is this?

Thou dost look pale, Honora—sick and wan—

Languid thy fainting limbs—

. All will be well.

But was it kind to leave me as thou did'st?

So rashly to desert thy vow-link'd wife?

. When made another's both by vows and laws—

. (Quitting his support.) What meanest thou?

. Did'st thou not marry him?

. Marry!

. Did'st thou not give thy hand away

From me?

. O, never, never.

. Not married?

. To none but thee, and but in will to thee.

. O blind, blind wretch!—Thy father told me—

. Thou wast deceived. They hurried me away,

Spreading false rumors to remove thy love—

(Tenderly.) Thou did'st too soon believe them.

. Thy father—

How could I but believe Honora's father?

And he did tell me so. I reverenc'd age,

Yet knew age was not virtue. I believed

His snowy locks, and yet they did deceive me!

I have destroy'd myself and thee!—Alas,

Ill-fated maid, why did'st thou not forget me?

Hast thou rude seas and hostile shores explor'd

For this? To see my death? Witness my shame?

. I come to bless thee, André, and shall do it.

I bear such offers from thy kind Commander

As must prevail to save thee. Thus the daughter

May repair the ills her cruel sire inflicted.

My father, dying, gave me cause to think

That arts were us'd to drive thee from thy home;

But what those arts I knew not. An heiress left,

Of years mature, with power and liberty,

I straight resolv'd to seek thee o'er the seas.

A long-known friend, who came to join her lord,