Save in pursuit of that—if vain to me,
Now you know all—
Cipr. I now know all—but you
Not that, which asking your forgiveness for,
I dare not name to you, for fear the hand
I hold as anchor-fast to, break away,
And I drive back to hell upon a blast
That roar’d behind me to these very doors,
But stopt—ev’n in the very presence stopt,
That most condemns me his.