Mar.Forgive me, sweetest.

Con. Margaret, you know I have none at all but you

To unfold my heart to: only you can tell

What I must feel at his return: you know

How far I loved, how much I was deceived.

His oaths of faith you heard from me, and shared

The joy of my delusion: and at last,

When he deserted me, you made your heart

The prison of my sorrows: you exhorted,—

O, you advised me well,—Be sure, you said,