And free me from this pain!... Receive his soul,
Saviour! exclaim’d the Goth, as he perform’d
The fatal service. Julian cried, O friend!...
True friend!... and gave to him his dying hand.
Then said he to Florinda, I go first,
Thou followest!... kiss me, child!... and now good night!
When from her father’s body she arose,
Her cheek was flush’d, and in her eyes there beam’d
A wilder brightness. On the Goth she gazed
While underneath the emotions of that hour