My brave, my noble love! Off with these bonds;
Let him be free as air: for I am come
To be your victim now.
Raim. Death has no pang
More keen than this. Oh! wherefore art thou here
I could have died so calmly, deeming thee
Saved, and at peace.
Con. At peace!—And thou hast thought
Thus poorly of my love! But woman’s breast
Hath strength to suffer too. Thy father sits