So I bade them farewell, and stayed here alone for love of you, as I fled from London for love of you, and last night we were united, as all your household know, for but now I have eaten with them and received their good wishes.

And now you dare--you dare to tell me, that I, your wife--I, who have sacrificed everything for you, I, the Marchioness of Morella, am _not_ your wife.

Well, go, say it outside this chamber, and hear your very slaves cry 'Shame' upon you.

Go, say it to your king and your bishops, aye, and to his Holiness the Pope himself, and listen to their answer.

Why, great as you are, and rich as you are, they will hale you to a mad-house or a prison." Morella listened, rocking himself to and fro upon the bed, then with an oath sprang towards her, to be met by a dagger-point glinting in his eyes.
"Hear me again," she said as he shrank back from that cold steel.