Just as Madge passed from the room, Sir William St.
Loe, with two yeomen, entered by Sir George's door and placed irons upon my wrist and ankles.

I was led by Sir William to the dungeon, and no word was spoken by either of us.
I had never in my life feared death, and now I felt that I would welcome it.

When a man is convinced that his life is useless, through the dire disaster that he is a fool, he values it little, and is even more than willing to lose it.
Then there were three of us in the dungeon,--John, Lord Rutland, and myself; and we were all there because we had meddled in the affairs of others, and because Dorothy had inherited from Eve a capacity for insane, unreasoning jealousy.
Lord Rutland was sitting on the ground in a corner of the dungeon.

John, by the help of a projecting stone in the masonry, had climbed to the small grated opening which served to admit a few straggling rays of light into the dungeon's gloom.

He was gazing out upon the fair day, whose beauty he feared would soon fade away from him forever.
Elizabeth's coldness had given him no hope.