No more than looked at thee death is enough.
But had he touched thee——
Gla. Art thou cruel, Roland?
I thought thee gentle. Wouldst thou make me hate thee?
Rol. You shall not hate me, Glaia. [Sheathes his sword] Let him live.
But take him from my sight. [Exeunt Stephen and Gregory]
Gla. O, Roland, now
I love thee!
Gla. Next to Hubert.