Albanio

Cease, flattering sophist, cease This artificial peace, Nor with false comfort make my sufferings more; Or I, far, far exiled, Must seek some hideous wild Where human footstep never stamped the shore. She is entirely changed From what she was, estranged From all kind feelings; this too deemest thou, Howe'er thy lips unwise With rhetoric would disguise The fatal truth, or seem to disallow; But thy dear sophistry indulge alone, Or for more credulous ears reserve it; I am gone!