By such unthinking jests. Forgive me, dear,

I will speak no more of it; with me thy secret

Is safe as with a sister. Shouldst thou wish

To unburden to me thy unhappy heart,

If haply I might bring thy love to thee.

Thou shalt his name divulge and quality,

And I will do my best.

Ire.

Never, dear Gycia.

Forget my weakness; 'twas a passing folly,

I love a man who loves me not again,

28

28

And that is very hell. I would die sooner

Than breathe his name to thee. Farewell, dear lady!

Thou canst not aid me.

[Exit Irene.

Irene.

Gycia.

Hapless girl! Praise Heaven

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