Remember, Lady Bothwell, you too have a death-bed to look
forward to; Your soul may--all human souls must--feel the awe of
facing the judgment-seat, with the wounds of an untented
conscience, raw, and rankling--what thought would it be then that
should whisper, "I have given no mercy, how then shall I ask
it?"'
"'Man, whosoever thou mayest be,' replied Lady Bothwell, 'urge me
not so cruelly. It would be but blasphemous hypocrisy to utter
with my lips the words which every throb of my heart protests
against. They would open the earth and give to light the wasted
form of my sister, the bloody form of my murdered brother.
Forgive him?--never, never!'
"'Great God!' cried the old man, holding up his hands, 'is it
thus the worms which Thou hast called out of dust obey the
commands of their Maker? Farewell, proud and unforgiving woman.
Exult that thou hast added to a death in want and pain the
agonies of religious despair; but never again mock Heaven by
petitioning for the pardon which thou hast refused to grant.'
"He was turning from her.
"'Stop,' she exclaimed; 'I will try--yes, I will try to pardon
him.'
"'Gracious lady,' said the old man, 'you will relieve the over-
burdened soul which dare not sever itself from its sinful
companion of earth without being at peace with you.
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