Leave me alone to mourn my misery;
I cannot cease to love you, but I'll die.
[_Leans her head on his arm._

_Abdelm._ What man but I so long unmoved could hear [_Weeping._
Such tender passion, and refuse a tear!--
But do not talk of dying any more,
Unless you mean that I should die before.

_Lyndar._ I fear your feigned repentance comes too late;
I die, to see you still thus obstinate:
But yet, in death my truth of love to show,
Lead me; if I have strength enough, I'll go.

_Abdelm._ By heaven, you shall not go! I will not be
O'ercome in love or generosity.
All I desire, to end the unlucky strife,
Is but a vow, that you will be my wife.

_Lyndar._ To tie me to you by a vow is hard;
It shows, my love you as no tie regard.--
Name any thing but that, and I'll agree.

_Abdelm._ Swear, then, you never will my rival's be.

_Lyndar._ Nay, pr'ythee, this is harder than before.--
Name any thing, good dear, but that thing more.

_Abdelm._ Now I too late perceive I am undone;
Living and seeing, to my death I run.