Raim. Then wherefore? and upon thy lofty brow
Why burns the troubled flush?
Pro. Perchance ’tis shame.
Yes, it may well be shame!—for I have striven
With nature’s feebleness, and been o’erpower’d.
—Howe’er it be, ’tis not for thee to gaze,
Noting it thus. Rise, let me loose thy chains.
Arise, and follow me; but let thy step
Fall without sound on earth: I have prepared
The means for thy escape.