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your heart of its terrible secret; and God grant you afterwards, if it be his righteous will, repentance and mercy.

Ost. (making a sign, as if unable to speak, then uttering rapidly.) Presently, presently.

Jer. Don't hurry him, reverend Father; he cannot speak.

Ben. Take breath awhile, noble Osterloo, and speak to us when you can.

Ost. I thank you.

Ben. He is much agitated, (to Osterloo.) Lean upon me, my Lord.

Prior. (to Benedict.) Nay, you exceed in this, (to Osterloo.) Recollect yourself, General, and try to be more composed, You seem better now; endeavour to unburden your mind of its fatal secret; to have it labouring within your breast is protracting a state of misery.

Ost. (feebly.) I have voice now.

Jer. (to Osterloo.) Give to Heaven, then, as you ought—

Ben. Hush, brother Jerome! no exhortations now! let him speak it as he can. (to Osterloo.) We attend you most anxiously.

Ost. (after struggling for utterance.) I slew him.

Prior. The man whose bones have now been discovered?

Ost. The same: I slew him.

Jer. In the field, Count?

Ost. No, no! many a man's blood has been on my hands there:—this is on my heart.