ing hope
That sinks like me?

I:3:32 ALAR.
The May-burst of the heart
Can bloom but once; and mine has fled, not faded.
That thought gave fancied solace, ah, 'twas fancy,
For now I feel my doom.

I:3:33 SOL.
Thou hast no doom
But what is splendid as thyself. Alas!
Weak woman, when she stakes her heart, must play
Ever a fatal chance. It is her all,
And when 'tis lost, she's bankrupt; but proud man
Shuffles the cards again, and wins to-morrow
What pays his present forfeit.

I:3:34 ALAR.
But alas!
What have I won?

I:3:35 SOL.
A country and a wife.

I:3:36 ALAR.
A wife!

I:3:37 SOL.
A wife, and very fair, they say.
She should be fair, who could induce thee break
Such vows as thine. O! I am very weak.
Why came I here? Was it indeed to see
If thou could'st look on me?

I:3:38 ALAR.
My own Solisa.

I:3:39 SOL.
Call me not thine; why, what am I to thee
That thou should'st call me thine?

I:3:40 ALAR.
Indeed, sweet lady,
Thou lookest on a man as bruised in spirit,
As broken-hearted, and subdued in soul,
As any breathing wretch that deems the day
Can bring no darker morrow. Pity me!
And if kind words may not subdue those lips
So scornful in their beauty, be they touched
At least by Mercy's accents! Was't a crime,
I could not dare believe that royal heart
Retained an exile's image? that forlorn,
Harassed, worn out, surrounded by strange aspects
And stranger manners, in those formal ties
Custom points out, I sought some refuge, found
At least companionship, and, grant 'twas weak,
Shrunk from the sharp endurance of the doom
That waits on exile, utter loneliness!

I:3:41 SOL.
His utter loneline