Flor. What shall be so?
Abd. Hah—
Flor. Why dost thou dress thy Eyes in such unusual wonder? There’s nothing here that is a stranger to thee, Or what is not intirely thine own.
Abd. Mine!
Flor. Thou canst not doubt it.
Abd. No,—and for a proof that thou art so,—take this Dagger.
Flor. Alas, Sir!—what to do?
Abd. To stab a Heart, Florella, a Heart that loves thee.
Flor. Heaven forbid!
Abd. No matter what Heaven will, I say it must—