They’re his! he used them, truly,
To save the guiltless. Pshaw! what were his bribes?
Gold—paltry gold! And mine! He claimed a price
Nought could redeem! a perjured soul! a spirit
Sold to perdition!
Contarini.
Ye perceive it plainly,
Her frenzy;—nay—harass her not!
Teresa.
Silence!