Gaoler. Whate’er I be, I can be civil, sir. [Exit.

Pal. Ay, I was wrong. Now must I ask his pardon.

I am not yet fit to die. Yet is’t not written

If hand or foot offend thee, cut it off;

If thine eye, pluck it out”? I have done all this;

Yet lurks there something in the accusing balance

Which my soul sickens at. What if I have lost

My world and soul? This good priest comes in time.

Enter Manuel disguised as priest.

2252