Me too! exclaim’d Florinda, who till then Had listen’d speechlessly; Thou Man of God, I also must partake! The Lord hath heard My prayers! one sacrament, ... one hour, ... one grave, ... One resurrection! That dread office done, Count Julian with amazement saw the Priest Kneel down before him. By the sacrament Which we have here partaken, Roderick cried, In this most aweful moment; by that hope, ... That holy faith which comforts thee in death, Grant thy forgiveness, Julian, ere thou diest! Behold the man who most hath injured thee! Roderick, the wretched Goth, the guilty cause Of all thy guilt, ... the unworthy instrument Of thy redemption, ... kneels before thee here, And prays to be forgiven! Roderick! exclaim’d The dying Count, ... Roderick!... and from the floor With violent effort half he raised himself; The spear hung heavy in his side, and pain And weakness overcame him, that he fell Back on his daughter’s lap. O Death, cried he, ... Passing his hand across his cold damp brow, ... Thou tamest the strong limb, and conquerest The stubborn heart! But yesterday I said One Heaven could not contain mine enemy And me: and now I lift my dying voice To say, Forgive me, Lord, as I forgive Him who hath done the wrong!... He closed his eyes A moment; then with sudden impulse cried, ... Roderick, thy wife is dead, ... the Church hath power To free thee from thy vows, ... the broken heart Might yet be heal’d, the wrong redress’d, the throne Rebuilt by that same hand which pull’d it down, And these cursed Africans.... Oh for a month Of that waste life which millions misbestow!... His voice was passionate, and in his eye With glowing animation while he spake The vehement spirit shone: its effort soon Was past, and painfully with feeble breath In slow and difficult utterance he pursued, ... Vain hope, if all the evil was ordain’d, And this wide wreck the will and work of Heaven, We but the poor occasion! Death will make All clear, and joining us in better worlds, Complete our union there! Do for me now One friendly office more: ... draw forth the spear, And free me from this pain!... Receive his soul, Saviour! exclaim’d the Goth, as he perform’d The fatal service. Julian cried, O friend!... True friend!... and gave to him his dying hand. Then said he to Florinda, I go first, Thou followest!... kiss me, child!... and now good night! When from her father’s body she arose, Her cheek was flush’d, and in her eyes there beam’d A wilder brightness. On the Goth she gazed While underneath the emotions of that hour Exhausted life gave way. O God! she said, Lifting her hands, thou hast restored me all, ... All ... in one hour!... and round his neck she threw Her arms and cried, My Roderick! mine in Heaven! Groaning, he claspt her close, and in that act And agony her happy spirit fled.