Sink, like a storm rebuked.
Ans. What recent grief
Darkens thy spirit thus?
Vit. I said not grief.
We should rejoice to-day, but joy is not
That which it hath been. In the flowers which wreathe
Its mantling cup, there is a scent unknown,
Fraught with a strange delirium. All things now
Have changed their nature: still, I say, rejoice!
There is a cause, Anselmo! We are free—