SARA.
Alas!
MARWOOD.
You sigh! Marwood too has sighed more than once over her weakness, and sighs yet.
SARA.
Enough, Madam, enough! These words I should think, are worse than the bitter jest which you were pleased to forbid me.
MARWOOD.
Its intention was not to offend you, but only to show you the unhappy Marwood in a light, in which you could most correctly judge her. To be brief--love gave Mellefont the rights of a husband; and Mellefont did not any longer consider it necessary to have them made valid by the law. How happy would Marwood be, if she, Mellefont, and Heaven alone knew of her shame! How happy if a pitiable daughter did not reveal to the whole world that which she would fain be able to hide from herself.
SARA.
What do you say? A daughter----