From heart-wounds of thy making! Florian,
I have no time to lose on empty forms—
I have no words to waste on idle speech—
My poor sick sister loves thee! Much misled
By thy light words, she placed full faith in thee:
And she is dying for her faith. Oh, sir,
There is but one physician in the world
Who, under Heaven, can save my darling’s life.
Go to her now. If thou hast loved me, sir,
Be merciful, and save this life for me!