But this she shall not be. For that same day305
Which ends our married joys shall end thy life.
But what is this? My rage begins to fail
And moderate its threats. My anger's gone.
Why dost thou languish thus, O wretched grief?
Wilt thou give o'er thy passion, be again
The faithful, uncomplaining wife? Ah no!
Why dost thou strive to check the flames of wrath?310
Why quench its fire? Let me but keep my rage,
And I shall be the peer of Hercules,