Let me have hope and favour, and I am a forsworn man for your sake.' Rosa puts her hands to her temples, and, pushing back her hair, looks wildly and abhorrently at him, as though she were trying to piece together what it is his deep purpose to present to her only in fragments.
'Reckon up nothing at this moment, angel, but the sacrifices that I lay at those dear feet, which I could fall down among the vilest ashes and kiss, and put upon my head as a poor savage might.

There is my fidelity to my dear boy after death.

Tread upon it!' With an action of his hands, as though he cast down something precious.
'There is the inexpiable offence against my adoration of you.

Spurn it!' With a similar action.
'There are my labours in the cause of a just vengeance for six toiling months.

Crush them!' With another repetition of the action.
'There is my past and my present wasted life.