And throes of agony, in his behalf
Implore and wrestle with offended Heaven.
This I have borne resign’d: but other ills
And worse assail me now; the which to bear,
If to avoid be possible, would draw
Damnation down. Orpas, the perjured Priest,
The apostate Orpas, claims me for his bride.
Obdurate as he is, the wretch profanes
My sacred woe, and woos me to his bed,
The thing I am, ... the living death thou seest!