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the gloomy light of a lamp, he ⟨found⟩ Blanche lying upon the straw in a ⟨horrid⟩ dungeon; her hair dishevelled; ⟨with⟩ no other covering than rags: her ⟨face⟩ drowned in tears; and her hands ⟨loaded⟩ with chains, lifted up to ⟨heaven.⟩ He stopped; and with a pity ⟨mingled⟩ with admiration, contemplates ⟨her⟩ youth, beauty, and the horrors ⟨that⟩ surround her. Blanche imagining ⟨him⟩ to be the gaoler, lifts up her ⟨languid⟩ head, and with a faint and dying ⟨voice⟩ demands what was intended "I ⟨am⟩ come," cries the counsellor, "to ⟨pay⟩ my homage to suffering virtue, and ⟨to⟩ terminate its sorrows." He then prostrates himself at her feet, and ⟨presents⟩ her child to her. Blanche recollecting him, exclaims, "Ah! if he be restored to me, life is yet supportable!" ⟨She⟩ would embrace this dear child, but the effort is too much. The excess of ⟨joy,⟩ the transports of her soul, with the weakness to which she is reduced, ⟨exhaust⟩ her little remaining strength, ⟨and⟩ she faints in the arms of her ⟨deliverer⟩. Who can express the emotions of surprise and ecstacy in this virtuous and feeling heart, when, on recovering her senses, she is informed that she is ⟨now⟩
