eved myself the god! (Pausing suddenly; then in a
solemn terrible voice.) It were better for thee, villain, to flee to
hell, than to encounter my wrath in heaven! Confess! To what extent has
your unhallowed love proceeded?

MARSHAL. Let me go! I will confess everything.

FERDINAND. Oh! it must be more rapturous even to be her licentious
paramour than to burn with the purest flame for any other! Would she
surrender her charms to unlicensed pleasure she might dissolve the soul
itself to sin, and make voluptuousness pass for virtue (pressing his
pistol against the MARSHAL'S breast). To what extremities have you
proceeded? Confess this instant or I fire!

MARSHAL. There is nothing at all in it, I assure you! There is not a
syllable of truth in the whole business! Have but a moment's patience!
You are deceived, indeed you are!

FERDINAND (furiously). And dare you remind me of that, villain? To what
extremities have you proceeded? Confess, or you are a dead man!

MARSHAL. Mon Dieu! My God! You mistake my words! Only listen for a
moment. When a father----

FERDINAND (still more enraged). No doubt! He threw his daughter into
your arms? And how far have you proceeded? Confess, or I will murder
you!

MARSHAL. You rave! You will not listen! I never saw her! I don't know
her! I know nothing at all about her!

FERDINAND (drawing back). You never saw her? You don't know her? Know
nothing at all about her? Louisa is lost to me forever on thy account,
and yet in one breath hast thou denied her thrice. Go, wretch, go (he
gives him a blow with the pistol, and thrusts him out of the chamber);
powder were thrown away on such a miscreant.

[Exit MARSHAL.

SCENE IV.

FERDINAND (after a long silence, during which his countenance declares
him to be agitated by some dreadful idea). Forever lost? Yes, false
unfortunate, both are lost! Ay, by the Almighty God! if I am lost, thou
art so too. Judge of the world, ask her not from me! She is mine. For
her sake I renounced the whole world--abandoned all thy glorious
creation. Leave me the maid, great Judge of the world! Millions of
souls pour out their plaints to thee--turn on them thine eye of
compassion, but leave me, Almighty Judge--leave me to myself. (Clasping
his hands in agony.) Can the bountiful, the munificent Creator be
covetous of one miserable soul, and that soul the worst of his creation?
The maiden is mine! Once I was her god, but now I am her dev