Does she not appear such, even from Lady Solmes's description? Well, Madam, you are her friend, perhaps her intimate friend. I do not say this as a reproach, for it may well be that it is hardly possible in this world to have virtuous friends only. Yet why should I be so humiliated for the sake of this friendship of yours? If I had had Marwood's experience, I should certainly not have committed the error which places me on such a humiliating level with her. But if I had committed it, I should certainly not have continued in it for ten years. It is one thing to fall into vice from ignorance; and another to grow intimate with it when you know it. Alas, Madam, if you knew what regret, what remorse, what anxiety my error has cost me! My error, I say, for why shall I be so cruel to myself any longer, and look upon it as a crime? Heaven itself ceases to consider it such; it withdraws my punishment, and gives me back my father.--But I am frightened, Madam; how your features are suddenly transformed! They glow-rage speaks from the fixed eye, and the quivering movement of the mouth. Ah, if I have vexed you, Madam, I beg for pardon! I am a foolish, sensitive creature; what you have said was doubtless not meant so badly. Forget my rashness! How can I pacify you? How can I also gain a friend in you as Marwood has done? Let me, let me entreat you on my knees (_falling down upon her knees_) for your friendship, and if I cannot have this, at least for the justice not to place me and Marwood in one and the same rank. MARWOOD (_proudly stepping back and leaving Sara on her knees_). This position of Sara Sampson is too charming for Marwood to triumph in it unrecognised. In me, Miss Sampson, behold the Marwood with whom on your knees you beg--Marwood herself--not to compare you. SARA (_springing up and drawing back in terror_). You Marwood? Ha! Now I recognise her--now I recognise the murderous deliverer, to whose dagger a warning dream exposed me. It is she! Away, unhappy Sara! Save me, Mellefont; save your beloved! And thou, sweet voice of my beloved father, call! Where does it call? Whither shall I hasten to it?--here?--there?--Help, Mellefont! Help, Betty! Now she approaches me with murderous hand! Help! (_Exit_.) Scene IX. MARWOOD.