What have I been, that thus the favouring gods
And the consentient strength of hostile States
Conspire to make me happy? Ah! I fear,
Lest too great happiness be but a snare
Set for our feet by Fate, to take us fast
And then despoil our lives.
Gycia.
My love, fear not.
We have found each other, and no power has strength
To put our lives asunder.