I have ceased to struggle--I go where I am called, love's willing victim.

If Heaven accept the sacrifice, it will provide the altar and the knife." Aymas was at his wits' end.

Judging of his brother by himself, he had taken for granted that Frank had some well-concocted scheme for gaining admittance to the Rose; and as the wiles of love were altogether out of his province, he had followed in full faith such a sans-appel as he held Frank to be.

But now he almost doubted of his brother's sanity, though Frank's manner was perfectly collected and his voice firm.

Amyas, honest fellow, had no understanding of that intense devotion, which so many in those days (not content with looking on it as a lofty virtue, and yet one to be duly kept in its place by other duties) prided themselves on pampering into the most fantastic and self-willed excesses.
Beautiful folly! the death-song of which two great geniuses were composing at that very moment, each according to his light.