CANDIDA (turning on him). I mean that and a good deal more, Master Eugene, as you will both find out presently. And pray, my lords and masters, what have you to offer for my choice? I am up for auction, it seems. What do you bid, James?
MORELL (reproachfully). Cand— (He breaks down: his eyes and throat fill with tears: the orator becomes the wounded animal.) I can't speak—
CANDIDA (impulsively going to him). Ah, dearest—
MARCHBANKS (in wild alarm). Stop: it's not fair. You mustn't show her that you suffer, Morell. I am on the rack, too; but I am not crying.
MORELL (rallying all his forces). Yes: you are right. It is not for pity that I am bidding. (He disengages himself from Candida.)
CANDIDA (retreating, chilled). I beg your pardon, James; I did not mean to touch you. I am waiting to hear your bid.
MORELL (with proud humility). I have nothing to offer you but my strength for your defence, my honesty of purpose for your surety, my ability and industry for your livelihood, and my authority and position for your dignity. That is all it becomes a man to offer to a woman.
CANDIDA (quite quietly). And you, Eugene? What do you offer?
MARCHBANKS. My weakness! my desolation! my heart's need!
CANDIDA (impressed). That's a good bid, Eugene. Now I know how to make my choice.