Can I trust my eyes? Justina!
JUSTINA [aside]. Cyprian, do I see? O Heaven!
CYPRIAN [aside]. No, it is not she, my thought
Fills the void air with her presence.
JUSTINA [aside]. No, it is not he, the wind
Forms this phantom to divert me.
CYPRIAN. Shadow of my fantasy . . .
JUSTINA. Of my wish, delusive spectre . . .
CYPRIAN. Terror of my startled senses . . .
JUSTINA. Horror of my heart's dejection . . .
CYPRIAN. What, then, wouldst thou?
JUSTINA. What, then, wouldst thou?
CYPRIAN. I invoked thee not. What errand
Has thou come on?
JUSTINA. Why thus seek me?
I to thee no thought directed.
CYPRIAN. Ah! I sought thee not, Justina.
JUSTINA. Nor here at thy call I entered.
CYPRIAN. Then why here?
JUSTINA. I am a prisoner.--
Thou?
CYPRIAN. I, too, have been arrested.
But, Justina, say what crime
Could thy virtue have effected?
JUSTINA. It is not for any crime,
It is from their deep resentment,
Their abhorrence of Christ's faith,
Whom I as my God confess here.
CYPRIAN. Thou dost owe Him that, Justina,
For thy God was thy defender,
He watched o'er thee in His goodness.
Get my prayers to Him accepted.
JUSTINA. Pray with faith, and He will listen.
CYPRIAN. Then with that I will address Him.
Though a fear, that's not despair,
Makes me for my great sins tremble.
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