I will gladly die for you.

But spare her.

O give her back to me, Silencieux!" But the image was impassive and made no sign.
"Silencieux," he implored, "speak, for I know you hear me.

Are you a devil, Silencieux; a devil I have worshipped all this time?
God help me! Have you no pity,--what is her little flower-life to you?
Why should you snatch it out of the sun--" But Silencieux made no sign.
Then Antony grew angry in his remorse: "I hate you, Silencieux.

Never will I look on your face again.