Hither, for sorrow to us, and for many a tear, have led!
—Let him perish amidst of the struggle, if this be his weird, to be sped
On the fallows of doom!—for how shall I ’scape my parents’ ken
As the drugs I prepare? With what manner of words shall I blind them then? {780}
What wile, what cunning device for mine hero’s help shall I find?
If I see him apart from his friends, shall I meet him with greeting kind?
O ill-starred!—though he should die, yet cannot I hope that so
Assuaging should come of my pain: nay, this should be but for my woe
If he of his life were bereft—oh, get thee behind me, shame!
Beauty, avaunt!—So scatheless by mine endeavour he came