Made me an inmate of the royal house,
And Roderick found in me, if not a heart
Like his, ... for who was like the heroic Goth?...
One which at least felt his surpassing worth,
And loved him for himself.... A little yet
Bear with me, reverend Father, for I touch
Upon the point, and this long prologue goes,
As justice bids, to palliate his offence,
Not mine. The passion, which I fondly thought
Such as fond sisters for a brother feel,