I will enter the great public arena, where all who come armed with patience and with energy are sure to win.

Constance, I am not without talents, though they have slept within me; say but the word, and you know not what they can produce." An irresolution in Constance was felt as a sympathy by Godolphin; he continued,-- "We are both desolate in the world, Constance; we are orphans--friendless, fortuneless.

Yet both have made our way without friends, and commanded our associates, though without fortune.

Does not this declare we have that within us which, when we are united, can still exalt or conquer our destiny?
And we--we--alone in the noisy and contentious world with which we strive--we shall turn, after each effort, to our own hearts, and find there a comfort and a shelter.

All things will bind us closer and closer to each other.