The land I love, and never shall see more!

Mar. And wish you this with me beside you?

Jac. Fos.‍No—

No—not for thee, too good, too kind! May'st thou

Live long to be a mother to those children

Thy fond fidelity for a time deprives

Of such support! But for myself alone,

May all the winds of Heaven howl down the Gulf,140

And tear the vessel, till the mariners,

Appalled, turn their despairing eyes on me,