On gaining the upper apartment, she threw herself upon the nearest
couch, and striking her breast, exclaimed: "What is this within me?
How does my soul seem to pour itself out to this man! Oh! how does it
extend itself, as if it would absorb his, even at my eyes! Only twelve
hours-hardly twelve hours, have I seen this William Wallace, and yet my
very being is now lost in his!"
While thus speaking, she covered her face with her handkerchief, but no
tears now started to be wiped away. The fire in her veins dried the
source, and with burning blushes she rose from her seat. "Fatal, fatal
hour! Why didst thou come here, too infatuating Wallace, to rob me of
my peace? Oh! why did I ever look on that face?-or rather, blessed
saints!" cried she, clasping her hands in wild passion, "why did I ever
shackle this hand?-why did I ever render such a sacrifice necessary?
Wallace is now free; had I been free? But wretch, wretch, wretch; I
could tear out this betrayed heart! I could trample on that of the
infatuated husband that made me such a slave!" She gasped for breath,
and again seating herself, reclined her beating temples against the
couch.
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