And why does the latter recoil from him so?
Recitative.—Alexis.
Prepare for sad surprises—
My love Aline despises!
No thought of sorrow shames her—
Another lover claims her!
Be his, false girl, for better or for worse—
But, ere you leave me, may a lover’s curse——
Dr. D. (coming forward). Hold! Be just. This poor child drank the philtre at your instance. She hurried off to meet you—but, most unhappily, she met me instead. As you had administered the potion to both of us, the result was inevitable. But fear nothing from me—I will be no man’s rival. I shall quit the country at once—and bury my sorrow in the congenial gloom of a colonial bishopric.