Still may he keep his own, and in the silent tomb
Preserve my love inviolate.—
Anna (31-53):
O dearer to thy sister than the light of life,
Wilt thou consume thy youth in loneliness and grief,
And never know the sacred joys of motherhood,
The sweets of love? And dost thou think, that in the tomb
Thy husband’s sleeping spirit recks of this? Let be,
That never yet have other suitors moved thy heart
Which long has scorned the lords of Libya and of Tyre;