(Taking Florian by both hands.)
At last I have thy love, oh, love of mine!
Thou art my very own—at last—at last!
Well, then, Sir Florian, I yield thee up! (Releasing him.)
To save her life I tear this new-born joy
Out of my very heart: for her I crush
My only hope on earth! If I can yield
The love of three long years to save her life,
Canst thou not yield thy love of yesterday?
Flor. The task is very bitter. Yesternight