The irritation of my oppressed spirit—

May Heaven be shut for ever from my hopes,

As from mine eyes!

Ulr.‍But Stralenheim is dead.

Wer. 'Tis horrible! 'tis hideous, as 'tis hateful!—50

But what have I to do with this?

Ulr.‍No bolt

Is forced; no violence can be detected,

Save on his body. Part of his own household

Have been alarmed; but as the Intendant is