Nor wealth, nor youth, nor power, nor rank, nor beauty—

For these you may be stript of—but beloved

As an abstraction—for—you know not what!

These are the wishes of a moderate lover—

And so you love.

Arn.‍Ah! could I be beloved,

Would I ask wherefore?

Cæs.‍Yes! and not believe

The answer—You are jealous.

Arn.‍And of whom?