Japh.‍Canst thou

Find joy in such a thought?

Irad.‍Nor joy nor sorrow.

I loved her well; I would have loved her better,

Had love been met with love: as 'tis, I leave her

To brighter destinies, if so she deems them.

Japh. What destinies?

Irad.‍I have some cause to think

She loves another.

Japh.‍Anah!