It is not compassion I want, I want you.

I can bear stripes from you.

Let me hear Emma's voice--the true voice.

This running away merits your reproaches.
It will look like--.

I have more to confess: the tigress in me wishes it were! I should then have a reckless passion to fold me about, and the glory infernal, if you name it so, and so it would be--of suffering for and with some one else.