Mertoun monologue (Act 3) — A Blot in the 'Scutcheon

Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a drop Of blood or two, should bring all this about Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my love Of you--(what passion like a boy's for one Like you?)--that ruined me! I dreamed of you-- You, all accomplished, courted everywhere, The scholar and the gentleman. I burned To knit myself to you: but I was young, And your surpassing reputation kept me So far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love? With less of love, my glorious yesterday Of praise and gentlest words and kindest looks, Had taken place perchance six months ago. Even now, how happy we had been! And yet I know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham! Let me look up into your face; I feel 'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed. Where? where? [As he endeavours to raise himself, his eye catches the lamp.] Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do? Tresham, her life is bound up in the life That's bleeding fast away! I'll live--must live, There, if you'll only turn me I shall live And save her! Tresham--oh, had you but heard! Had you but heard! What right was yours to set The thoughtless foot upon her life and mine, And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought, All had gone otherwise"? We've sinned and die: Never you sin, Lord Tresham! for you'll die, And God will judge you.