His silence was unbroken; his eye, fixed upon the clock for a time, was now withdrawn; fury kindled in every feature; all that was human in his face gave way to an expression supernatural and tremendous.

I felt my left arm within his grasp .-- Even now I hesitated to strike.

I shrunk from his assault, but in vain .-- Here let me desist.

Why should I rescue this event from oblivion?
Why should I paint this detestable conflict?
Why not terminate at once this series of horrors ?--Hurry to the verge of the precipice, and cast myself for ever beyond remembrance and beyond hope?
Still I live: with this load upon my breast; with this phantom to pursue my steps; with adders lodged in my bosom, and stinging me to madness: still I consent to live! Yes, I will rise above the sphere of mortal passions: I will spurn at the cowardly remorse that bids me seek impunity in silence, or comfort in forgetfulness.

My nerves shall be new strung to the task.