Loosed from all ties. Why should I trifle thus?
—Bear her away!
Raim. (starting forward.) And whither?
Mon. Unto death.
Why should she live, when all her race have perish’d?
Con. (sinking into the arms of Raimond.)
Raimond, farewell! Oh! when thy star hath risen
To its bright noon, forget not, best beloved!
I died for thee.
Raim. High Heaven! thou see’st these things,