Chapter 41

JUSTINA.

JUSTINA. 'Gainst the clouds that round me lower I appeal to heaven's high power; Let this spectre of my fame-- As before the wind the flame-- As before the frost the flower, Vanish, die.... But woe is me! Who is here to heed my moan? Was there not a man with me? Yes. But no: I am alone: No. But yes: for I could see. Where so quickly could he fly? Was he born of my unrest? Oh! my danger's manifest... Father! friend! Lysander! I Call....

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