And yet endurest them! Shalt thou die for me,
Purest and loveliest being?—but our fate
May not divide us long. Her cheek is cold—
Her deep blue eyes are closed: should this be death
—If thus, there yet were mercy! Father, father!
Is thy heart human?
Pro. Bear her hence, I say!
Why must my soul be torn?
Anselmo enters holding a Crucifix.
Ans. Now, by this sign