[Dragging him past the body. Harold. Not that way, man! Curse on your brutal strength! I cannot pass that way. Dobson.

Out o' the chaumber!

I'll mash tha into nowt.
Harold.

The mere wild-beast! Dobson. Out o' the chaumber, dang tha! Harold. Lout, churl, clown! [While they are shouting and struggling Dora rises and comes between them.

Dora (to Dobson). Peace, let him be: it is the chamber of Death! Sir, you are tenfold more a gentleman, A hundred times more worth a woman's

love,

Than this, this-but I waste no words upon him:

wretchedness

His wickedness is like my
Beyond all language.

(To Harold.)

You - you see her there! Only fifteen when first you came on her, And then the sweetest flower of all the wolds,

So lovely in the promise of her May, So winsome in her grace and gaiety, So loved by all the village people here, So happy in herself and in her homeDobson (agitated). Theer, theer! ha' done. I can't abeär to see her. [Exit. Dora. A child, and all as trustful as a child!

The shelter of your roof

moment

Nothing from you!

Sunk in the deepest pit of pauperism, Push'd from all doors as if we bore the plague,

Smitten with fever in the open field,
Laid famine-stricken at the gates of
Death-

not for one

Nothing from you!
But she there - her last wor
Forgave and I forgive you. If y
Forgive yourself, you are even lower an
baser

Than even I can well believe you. G [He lies at her feet. Curtain fil

ever