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That still within these hospitable walls I've found; but longer urge me not to stay. In Helen's presence now, constrain'd and strange, With painful caution, chasing from my lips The ready thought, half-quiver'd into utterance, For cold corrected words, expressive only Of culprit consciousness,—I sit; nor even May look upon her face but as a thing On which I may not look; so painful now The mingled feeling is, since dark despair With one faint ray of hope hath temper'd been. I can no more endure it. She herself Perceives it, and it pains her.—Let me then Bid you farewell, my lord. When evening comes, I'll, under favour of the rising moon, Set forth.

Indeed! so soon? and must it be?

Yes; to Northumberland without delay I fain would take my road. My aged father Looks now impatiently for my return.

Then I'll no longer urge thee. To thy father, The noble baron, once, in better days,