See, the dear saint kneels at the altar's foot;
See, her white hands with fervent clasps are rais'd;
Perhaps for me. Have you a heart, my father,
And bid me bear to lose her?—Hold me not—
I come, I fly, my life, my all! to join thee.
[Exit.
Aust. Return, return, rash boy!——Pernicious chance!
One glance from her will quite destroy my work,
And leave me but my sorrow for my labour.