Of Hope I now know nothing but the name—
And that's a sound which jars upon my heart.
I've wearied thee—Good night—my patient Love!
Josepha. I must not leave thee thus—my husband—friend—
My heart is rent in twain for thee—I scarce150
Dare greet thee as I would, lest that my love
Should seem officious and ill timed:—'tis early—
Yet rest were as a healing balm to thee—
Then once again—Good night!
Voice Without.What Ho—lights ho!