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She will think of all this when it is too late: it will embitter her days; she will then bear her torment in secret. She will know I have loved her; she will know it then. The time runs on; it should be done. O that it were done! But the doing of it is a fearful effort. (Fulls out a pistol, and looks at it ruefully.) Is there no way of getting rid of this hateful world but by this miserable act of self-destruction? O that some friendly hand would rid me of my wretched life! I cannot do it. (Throws away the pistol, which, bursting from the fern, &c. takes up, and runs fiercely at him, presenting it to his head.)

Me will do it for you, and tank you too.

Hold, hold! For Heaven's sake spare my life.