DOROTHY. And you will kill him? Shame after shame, threat upon threat. Marry me, or you are dishonoured; marry me, or your brother dies: and this is man’s honour! But my honour and my pride are different. I will encounter all misfortune sooner than degrade myself by an unfaithful marriage. How should I kneel before the altar, and vow to reverence as my husband you, you who deceived me as my lover? AUSTIN. Dorothy, you misjudge me cruelly; I have deserved it. You will not take me for your husband; why should I wonder? You are right. I have indeed filled your life with calamity: the wages, ay, the wages, of my sin are heavy upon you. But I have one more thing to ask of your pity; and O remember, child, who it is that asks it: a man guilty in your sight, void of excuse, but old, and very proud, and most unused to supplication. Dorothy Musgrave, will you forgive George Austin? DOROTHY. O, George! AUSTIN. It is the old name: that is all I ask, and more than I deserve. I shall remember, often remember, how and where it was bestowed upon me for the last time. I thank you, Dorothy, from my heart; a heart, child, that has been too long silent, but is not too old, I thank God! not yet too old, to learn a lesson and to accept a reproof. I will not keep you longer: I will go—I am so bankrupt in credit that I dare not ask you to believe in how much sorrow. But, Dorothy, my acts will speak for me with more persuasion. If it be in my power, you shall suffer no more through me: I will avoid your brother; I will leave this place, I will leave England, to-morrow; you shall be no longer tortured with the neighbourhood of your ungenerous lover. Dorothy, farewell! SCENE VIII DOROTHY; _to whom_, ANTHONY, _L._ DOROTHY (_on her knees_, _and reaching with her hands_.) George, George! (_Enter_ ANTHONY.) ANTHONY. Ha! what are you crying for? DOROTHY. Nothing, dear! (_Rising_.) ANTHONY. Is Austin going to marry you? DOROTHY. I shall never marry. ANTHONY. I thought as much. You should have come to me. DOROTHY. I know, dear, I know; but there was nothing to come about. ANTHONY. It’s a lie. You have disgraced the family. You went to John Fenwick: see what he has made of it! But I will have you righted: it shall be atoned in the man’s blood. DOROTHY. Anthony! And if I had refused him? ANTHONY. You? refuse George Austin? You never had the chance. DOROTHY. I have refused him. ANTHONY. Dorothy, you lie. You would shield your lover; but this concerns not you only: it strikes my honour and my father’s honour. DOROTHY. I have refused him—refused him, I tell you—refused him. The blame is mine; are you so mad and wicked that you will not see? ANTHONY. I see this: that man must die. DOROTHY. He? never! You forget, you forget whom you defy; you run upon your death. ANTHONY. Ah, my girl, you should have thought of that before. It is too late now.