Why do you come back again so soon, Mellefont? (_rising_).
Because I needed but a few moments to recover my senses.
I was stunned, Marwood, but not moved! You have had all your trouble in vain. Another atmosphere than this infectious one of your room has given me back my courage and my strength, to withdraw my foot in time from this dangerous snare. Were the tricks of a Marwood not sufficiently familiar to me, unworthy wretch that I am?
Gently, Mellefont! or I too shall speak in the same language.
I return only in order not to leave you one moment longer under a delusion with regard to me, which must make me despicable even in your eyes.
Look at me as madly as you like. The more madly the better! Was it possible that I could hesitate only for one moment between a Marwood and a Sara, and that I had well nigh decided for the former?
Do not tremble, Bella! For your sake too I came back. Give me your hand, and follow me without fear!
Go, pitiable wretch, and learn first to know her mother.
I know her. She is a disgrace to her sex.
Remain here, Bella (_attempting to stop her_).
Now we are alone! Say now once more, whether you are determined to sacrifice me for a foolish girl?
Sacrifice you? You recall to my mind that impure animals were also sacrificed to the ancient gods.
Express yourself without these learned allusions.
I tell you, then, that I am firmly resolved never to think of you again, but with the most fearful of curses. Who are you? And who is Sara? You are a voluptuous, egoistic, shameful strumpet, who certainly can scarcely remember any longer that she ever was innocent. I have nothing to reproach myself with but that I have enjoyed with you that which otherwise you would perhaps have let the whole world enjoy. You have sought me, not I you, and if I now know who Marwood is, I have paid for this knowledge dearly enough. It has cost me my fortune, my honour, my happiness----
And I would that it might also cost you your eternal happiness. Monster! Is the devil worse than you, when he lures feeble mortals into crimes and himself accuses them afterwards for these crimes which are his own work! What is my innocence to you? What does it matter to you when and how I lost it. If I could not sacrifice my virtue, I have at least staked my good name for you. The former is no more valuable than the latter. What do I say? More valuable? Without it the former is a silly fancy, which brings one neither happiness nor guilt. The good name alone gives it some value, and can exist quite well without it. What did it matter what I was before I knew you, you wretch! It is enough that in the eyes of the world I was a woman without reproach. Through you only it has learned that I am not so; solely through my readiness to accept your heart, as I then thought, without your hand.