So shall you kill her, but not cruelly,
Compar'd to this deliberate, lingering murder.
Count. Away with this perverseness! Get thee to her;
Tell her my heart is hers; here deep engrav'd
In characters indelible, shall rest
The sense of her perfections. Why I leave her,
Is not from cloy'd or fickle appetite
(For infinite is still her power to charm;)——
But Heaven will have it so.
Aust. Oh, name not Heaven!