Page:The great Galeoto; Folly or saintliness; two plays done from the verse of José Echegaray into English prose by Hannah Lynch (IA greatgaleotofoll00echerich).djvu/124

 gladly give,—not only my life, but my right to heaven, ay, a thousand times—eagerly, joyously,—You, to suspect me of treason, of hypocrisy! Oh, this, Teodora—I cannot bear! [Deeply moved, speaks despairingly.]

. [With increasing nervousness.] You have not understood me, Ernest. We must part.

. But not like this!

. Quickly, for mercy's sake. Julian suffers. [Points to the sick-room.]

. I know it.

. Then we should not forget it.

. No; but I also suffer.

. You, Ernest! why?

. Through your contempt.

. I feel none.

. You have expressed it.

. It was a lie.

. No; not entirely. So that our sufferings are not equal. In this implacable strife he suffers as those on earth suffer, I as those in hell.

. Spare me, Ernest—my head is on fire.

. And my heart aches.

. That will do, Ernest. I entreat you to pity me.

. That was all I asked of you.

. Mercy.

. Yes, mercy. But why should you claim it? What is it you fear? of what are you thinking? [Approaches her.] 84