She turn'd to me, and her weak arms stretch'd forth.
But ah! how changed, how pale, and spent, and keen!
As if already blighting poverty,
That portion which her love must share with me,
Had marr'd—cease, cease, base thought, it shall not be!
(Enter Herman with a knapsack on his back, as if prepared for a journey.)
What, my good Herman, art thou so soon ready?
HERMAN.
Yes, my dear master, but if you think it too soon, I will not go to-day. Nay if it were not that you force me to go, I should as soon have thought of deserting my friend (pardon my boldness, sir) in a wild wood amongst savages, as leaving you here in this strange place in the state you are in at present. Pardon my boldness, sir.
RAYNER.
Thou hast no boldness to pardon, Herman: thou art well entitled to call thyself my friend; there is not one amongst those who have borne that name, who would have done more for me than thou hast done.
