And is enough for me, more than enough.
[Exit.
Rhod.
Now bridal garb and deathly shroud—come on!
[Lesbia rushes in and throws herself at Rhodope’s feet.
Lesbia.
O Gracious One—forgive! My thanks, my thanks!
Rhod. (lifting her up).
I think you will not thank me, hapless child,
Yet—in the end! Yes, Lesbia, in the end!