Because I thought thou wert
One who in a darksome cavern
Died to show thy love for me.
Chrysanthus.
I have yet been not so happy
As to have a chance, Daria,
Of thus proving my attachment.
Daria.
Be that so, I 've come to seek thee,
Confident, completely sanguine,
That I have the power to conquer,
I alone, thy pains, thy anguish;
Though against me thou shouldst use
The Christian armoury—enchantments.
Chrysanthus.
That thou hast alone the power
To subdue the pains that wrack me,
I admit it; but in what
Thou hast said of Christian magic
I, Daria, must deny it.
Daria.
How? from what cause else could happen
The effects I just have witnessed?
Chrysanthus.
Miracles they are and marvels.
Daria.
Why do they affect not me?
Chrysanthus.
'T is because I do not ask them
Against thee; because from aiding
Not myself, no aid is granted.
Daria.
Then I come here to undo them.