Warn you from fresh inconstancy; my grief
May thus be Mirza’s safeguard to the end.
Mirza—my sister—he will love you well—
Here, in the home of truth, he tells you so.
May you be happy in his new-born love,
May he be worthy of such love as yours—
(To Philamir) Speak not, but let me go. (Kisses Mirza’s forehead.)
Farewell—farewell!
[Exit Zeolide, weeping—Philamir and Mirza stand for a moment gazing at each other—then they fall into each other’s arms.
Phil. Mirza, my own! At last—at last my own!