It is my husband. Let me go. My husband.
No, no, no. It is he.
Ostyn. No, no, no. It is he.Alas!
Theodora.My children, my children.
Ostyn. Theodora.My children, my children.Heaven, she is dying.
The heart breaks. Look, how pale.
(She dies in his arms.)
(The storm ceases.)
Thou wert too noble for the world, sweet woman,
In thinking thyself too base. No more for me