The hand that struck the blow.
"It drove her mad—yet not his death—
No—not his death alone;
For she had clung to hope, when all
Knew well that there was none;
No, boy! it was a sight she saw
That froze her into stone!
"I am thy uncle, child—why stare
So frightfully aghast?—
The arras waves, but know'st thou not