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shut up within the walls of his own library, when Count Claudien, his friend, entered the room by a private door from the garden, with blood on his hands and agony in his heart.

Thou liest, false priest! I made to thee no such confession. Mine own sins, and mine own alone, were revealed to thee. (To the Judges.) Regard not what he says, for he is perjured.

Silence! do not interrupt him: it is for us to judge of this matter. (To the Confessor.) Proceed.

He entered, as I have said, with blood upon his hands, and told, in much agony of mind, to this, your noble prisoner, that he had been, a short half-hour before, attacked near the ramparts by Baron Hartman, who rushed furiously upon him with his drawn sword: that they fought, and Hartman was disarmed; upon which he treacherously drew his dagger, attempting to stab him; but he, this Claudien, being the stronger man, threw the other upon the ground, and bent over him with one knee upon his breast. (A pause.)