Nay, hold me!--quick!--where art thou?--Everard!--He is
gone--gone!
_Lady A_. Dead!--
_Mor_. She is dead!
_Andre_. This was Love.
_Lady A_. See how her eyes are fixed on _you_. The light and love of the
vanished soul looks through them still. Cruelly hath it been sent
thence; and no other gleam of its changeful beauty will e'er dawn in
them. Sadly, oh lovely stranger, I close for ever now these dark-fringed
lids upon their love and beauty. Yes--_this_ was love!
_Andre_. And so there was a need-be in its doom. I'll ne'er believe
_that_ genuine, that is blessed. The fate of this life would not suffer
it. Ah! if it would, if Heaven should leave a gem like that outside her
walls, we should none of us go thither.
_Mait_. Dead? How beautiful! Yes--let her lie there--under that lovely
canopy. Dead!--it's a curious word--How comes it that we all stand here?
Ha, Andre?--is it you?
_Andre_. I heard the tale as I crossed just now, from an Indian, who was
one in the ambuscade this noon--and in the woods on the other side, I
found this lady, with her attendants, abiding the promise she made you
last night, to welcome this lovely stranger with her savage guides.
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