That, by some vicious dodge, which she could not discover,
De Laval had “used up” and expended her lover.
Unhappy Yolenta! forsaken, heart-broken,
She drew from her bosom a cherished love-token;
A dark curling lock of her Loridon’s hair,
Fix’d her eyes on it, shed o’er it tears of despair,
Then devoured it with kisses, and dropp’d on her knees,
To implore with deep fervour that Heaven would please
Pardon Loridon’s sins, forgive hers, and so let her
Rejoin, and remain with, one whom she loved better