ACT III. SCENE I. ISABELLA, alone .

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Yes, death seems to me a hundred times less dreadful than this fatal marriage into which I am forced; all that I am doing to escape its horrors should excuse me in the eyes of those who blame me. Time presses; it is night; now, then, let me fearlessly entrust my fate to a lover's fidelity.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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