No more, then. Take my life.—You start aback?
Gyges.
So willing with the gift?
Kan.
Who does a sin
Does penance too. Who smiles not in atonement
Makes no atonement. Am I known so ill
And held so light by you that such a word
Astounds, nay more, affrights you? Where’s my heart
That I should force her with her rosy fingers,