Of all my much-prized honours, could recal
That blow, too justly aimed. It will not be—
The sacrifice of thy dear precious love
Could not bring back to life the friend I slew!
My only hope of pardon is the sense
I feel of my transgression—I regret
Not all the promised joys that bloomed so fair;
I do not wish to shun my punishment;
It is my crime, my crime that I lament.
The God of mercy will forgive me ere
I can forgive myself.
Veronica.
And must I part with thee,
Geraldi, dear Geraldi, never meet
Thy fond impassioned glance? one only hope
To soothe me on my weary pilrimage,
Through this bleak desolated world, the thought
That we may meet in Heaven. My Sforza, say,
Dost thou imagine in the realms of bliss
That we shall know each other?
