Con.What? What wouldst thou say? O speak!——
Thou wouldst not leave me!
Rai.I have cast a cloud,
The shadow of dark thoughts and ruin'd fortunes,
O'er thy bright spirit. Haply, were I gone,
Thou wouldst resume thyself, and dwell once more
In the clear sunny light of youth and joy,
E'en as before we met—before we loved!
Con. This is but mockery.—Well thou know’st thy love
Hath given me nobler being; made my heart
A home for all the deep sublimities
Of strong affection; and I would not change
Th' exalted life I draw from that pure source,
With all its checquer'd hues of hope and fear,
Ev'n for the brightest calm. Thou most unkind!
Have I deserved this?
Rai.Oh! thou hast deserved
A love less fatal to thy peace than mine.
Think not 'tis mockery!—But I cannot rest
To be the scorn'd and trampled thing I am
In this degraded land. Its very skies,
That smile as if but festivals were held
Beneath their cloudless azure, weigh me down
With a dull sense of bondage, and I pine
For freedom's charter'd air. I would go forth
To seek my noble father; he hath been
Too long a lonely exile, and his name
