And I dare say it. I can bear the worst
That envious fate may heap upon my head,
If thou art with me, or for hope of thee.

Art sure of that ? Thou couldst not part from me,
Even for thy father s sake?

Talk you of parting?
For God s sake, what is this? You love no more?

Rather I love so truly that I shrink
From asking thee to share a soldier s fate.
I tremble to uproot so fine a flower
From its dear native earth. I—

Hush, no more !
I need no preparation more than this,
Your mere request.

There spake my heroine.
The King, my father, bids me to repair
Unto Palermo.