Have given thee back to a dear parent's arms?
And spite of all the horrors which surround me,
And worse, each black eventful moment threatens,
My bosom glows with rapture at the thought
Thou wilt at last be bless'd.
Theod. But one way only
Can I be bless'd. On thee depends my fate.
Lord Raymond, harsh and haughty as he is,
And adverse to my father's rigid virtue,
When he shall hear our pure, unspotted vows,