DIDIER.
Pity! why?
MARION.
To see you taken, bound! To see you—there!
Only to think it makes me die of horror!
Come! I will be a servant unto you.
Come! Take me, when I have redeemed myself,
Just to have something underneath your feet.
The one you called "a wife" in times of trial—
DIDIER.
A wife! [Cannon sounds in the distance.
This makes of you a widow, then!
MARION.
Didier!
THE JAILER.
The hour is past.