Mar.Alas, alas! Giovanni:
I looked to find thee glad of heart and happy.
Our troubles all are over. Manuel lives,
Whom we thought drowned: Constance, who lay in death,
Hath risen from her bed: and even our marriage
Is furthered by my brother. How can it be
Thou art so dismal, and thy kiss as cold
As is this prison?
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Pal.I would not leave this prison.