Brave men, and reckless. Ay, and they whom fate
Would trample should be thus. It is enough—
Thou may’st depart.
Sylv. And thou, if thou dost prize
Thy safety, speed thee hence.
[Exit Sylveira.
Seb. (alone.) And this is he
Who was as mine own soul: whose image rose,
Shadowing my dreams of glory with the thought
That on the sick man’s weary couch he lay,