When treason overpower’d him! Now, alas!
A manly Gothic heart doth ill accord
With these unhappy times. Come, let us hide
This carrion, while the favouring hour permits.
So saying he alighted. Soon they scoop’d
Amid loose-lying sand a hasty grave,
And levell’d over it the easy soil.
Father, said Roderick, as they journey’d on,
Let this thing be a seal and sacrament
Of truth between us: Wherefore should there be