Thrill’d by the thought! Where shall I find a place
To hide my shame, to lave the branded stains
From this dishonour’d brow? What should I do?
There is a voice whose deep tremendous tones
Murmur within my heart, and sternly cry,
“Away!—and pause not—slay thy guilty sister!”
Voice of lost honour, of a noble line
Disgraced, I will obey thee!—terribly
Thou call’st for blood, and thou shalt be appeased.