I had not mourned my own less happy lot.
No—No—all's past—all torn away.
Josepha.Dear Werner,
Oh banish these discomfortable thoughts
That thus contend within you: we are poor,
So we have ever been—but I remember
The time when thy Josepha's smile could turn30
Thy heart to hers—despite of every ill.
So let it now—alas! you hear me not.
Werner. What said you?—let it pass—no matter what—