His words are sweet,--and so, truly, is the honey of the bee, but the bee has a sting, and unkindness is a worse smart that that received from an insect's venom.

I will[67] put him to the proof.

He says all hope is dead to him, and I know that it is dead to me, so we are both equally fitted for death.

Let me try if he will die with me; and as I fear to die alone, if he will accompany [me] to cheer me, and thus he can shew himself my friend in the only manner my misery will permit.[68] It was madness I believe, but I so worked myself up to this idea that I could think of nothing else.

If he dies with me it is well, and there will be an end of two miserable beings; and if he will not, then will I scoff at his friendship and drink the poison before him to shame his cowardice.