That it may not fall from them. ’Tis a token
Of a beloved friend, who is no more.
Vic. How? dead?
Pre. Yes; dead to me; and worse than dead.
He is estrang’d! And yet I keep this ring.
I will rise with it from my grave hereafter,
To prove to him that I was never false.
Vic. (aside.) Be still, my swelling heart! one moment still!
Why ’tis the folly of a love-sick girl.
Come, give it me, or I will say ’tis mine,