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the age of Methuselah rather, were I wretched as wretchedness could make me. Marry! (tearing his hair extravagantly.) it makes me mad to think of it. (Striding rapidly to the bottom of the stage).

Foolish wort! I am all wrong here.

And you think they would marry?

O no, no! I speak de joke: he be too wise to marry her, and den she will say, Oh, oh! and tink of de good husband she had.

Think of me! Yes, she will then think of me. She must think of me then. If I could but rend her guilty heart with remorse! If I could make her miserable!

O no doubt of dat; she will be very miserable, and have de bitter misery.

Ay, that were something; that were worth dying for. She will think of me then in the agony of repentance. If I could be sure of this,—be sure. (A pause of thought.) But are you a man, and advise me to such a desperate act?