... I will not pray, for prayer is softening,
And I must be too stern to pity self.
I was a princess. I'll not think of that,
For now I am a wife. And for my lord
Must die. They'll find me here, and say the deed
Was mine. My jealous hand avenged my wrong.
... O gentle Heaven, he is not worthy this!
Nay, nor no man, and yet for every man
There lives a woman who would die for him.
[Lifts the dagger]