ntimate with it when you know it. Alas, Madam, if you knew what
regret, what remorse, what anxiety my error has cost me! My error, I
say, for why shall I be so cruel to myself any longer, and look upon it
as a crime? Heaven itself ceases to consider it such; it withdraws my
punishment, and gives me back my father.--But I am frightened, Madam;
how your features are suddenly transformed! They glow-rage speaks from
the fixed eye, and the quivering movement of the mouth. Ah, if I have
vexed you, Madam, I beg for pardon! I am a foolish, sensitive creature;
what you have said was doubtless not meant so badly. Forget my
rashness! How can I pacify you? How can I also gain a friend in you as
Marwood has done? Let me, let me entreat you on my knees (_falling down
upon her knees_) for your friendship, and if I cannot have this, at
least for the justice not to place me and Marwood in one and the same
rank.

MARWOOD (_proudly stepping back and leaving Sara on her knees_).

This position of Sara Sampson is too charming for Marwood to triumph in
it unrecognised. In me, Miss Sampson, behold the Marwood with whom on
your knees you beg--Marwood herself--not to compare you.

SARA (_springing up and drawing back in terror_).

You Marwood? Ha! Now I recognise her--now I recognise the murderous
deliverer, to whose dagger a warning dream exposed me. It is she! Away,
unhappy Sara! Save me, Mellefont; save your beloved! And thou, sweet
voice of my beloved father, call! Where does it call? Whither shall I
hasten to it?--here?--there?--Help, Mellefont! Help, Betty! Now she
approaches me with murderous hand! Help! (_Exit_.)

Scene IX.

MARWOOD.

What does the excitable girl mean? Would that she spake the truth, and
that I approached her with murderous hand! I ought to have spared the
dagger until now, fool that I was! What delight to be able to stab a
rival at one's feet in her voluntary humiliation! What now? I am
detected. Mellefont may be here this minute. Shall I fly from him?
Shall I await him? I will wait, but not in idleness. Perhaps the
cunning of my servant will detain him long enough? I see I am feared.
Why do I not follow her then? Why do I not try the last expedient which
I can use against her? Threats are pitiable weapons; but despair
despises no weapons, however pitiable they may be. A timid girl, who
flies stupid and terror-stricken from my mere n