[After a pause.] Is there a gallant that has night by night
Admittance to your chamber?
[After a pause.] Then, his name!
Till now, I only had a thought for you:
But now,—his name!
Mil. Thorold, do you devise
Fit expiation for my guilt, if fit
There be! 'T is naught to say that I'll endure
And bless you,—that my spirit yearns to purge
Her stains off in the fierce renewing fire: