Viol. And I have heard
Of two yet stranger flowers that, severally,
Each in its heart a deadly poison holds,
Which, if they join, turns to a sovereign balm.
And so with us, who in our bosoms bear
A passion which destroys us when apart,
But when together—
Elvira (calling within). Madam! madam! your father!
Viol. Farewell!
Lope. But you return?