“Be it so,” said Ulrica, no longer interrupting him; “go thy way, and forget, in the insolence of thy superority, that the wretch before thee is the daughter of thy father’s friend.⁠—Go thy way⁠—if I am separated from mankind by my sufferings⁠—separated from those whose aid I might most justly expect⁠—not less will I be separated from them in my revenge!⁠—No man shall aid me, but the ears of all men shall tingle to hear of the deed which I shall dare to do!⁠—Farewell!⁠—thy scorn has burst the last tie which seemed yet to unite me to my kind⁠—a thought that my woes might claim the compassion of my people.”

“Ulrica,” said Cedric, softened by this appeal, “hast thou borne up and endured to live through so much guilt and so much misery, and wilt thou now yield to despair when thine eyes are opened to thy crimes, and when repentance were thy fitter occupation?”