Parte,  Chap.

1   I,   Commend|   all rivalry,~ Albeit both bereft of wits we go.~ But, though
2   I,       XII|     the morning bemused and bereft of sense; and another without
3   I,     XXIII| missing, and seeing himself bereft of him he began the saddest
4   I,       XXV|   gives thee freedom who is bereft of it himself, oh steed
5   I,     XXVII|   went down, I felt my eyes bereft of sight, my mind of reason.
6   I,      XXIX|    see me in, bare, ragged, bereft of all human comfort, and
7   I,     XXXIV|   in oblivion I should be,~ Bereft of life, fame, favour, even