The same again, and glory,[1295] too,
In having done it. Penalty!
For what they now may do with me
I care but little.[1296] He is dead,
And that ends all.
What made me do the deed? The old,
Old[1297] time-worn story of man’s cold
And heartless cruelty; of wrongs
Heaped on her head,[1298] to whom belongs
At least respect,[1299] if nothing more.