"If I were shapely, strong, and beautiful, I would do as I will do. The powers that torture me have flung a jewel at my feet, and I will wear it till I weary of it. You are in my power, saintliness! Discrowned, deformed, dishonored, over you I can still be king."
"Do not cheat yourself. I am not in your power."
"Am I deceived? I thought you were a prisoner here. I thought your jailers flung you to me for my pleasure. I thought just now you were my suppliant. Will these walls vanish at your wish? Will those hearts melt at your pleadings? Will I deny myself delight? You are in my power."
Perpetua watched him as calmly as a martyr of old days watched the advance of the doomsman.
"I am not in your power. I am young, and I love life, and would be glad to grow old in the world's way. But I would rather die than live with any stain of shame."
Robert retorted swiftly, mocking her, yet conscious, against his will, of unfamiliar admiration of opposition to his will.
"You foolish ermine, Death's angel does not come at a girl's call."
"She who finds life hateful will find the means to end it," Perpetua said, proudly.
"Is this your virtue?" Robert jeered. "May meekness do self-murder?"
Perpetua lifted her tearless eyes towards the painted roof, fretted with pagan emblems.
"When I appear before the court of Heaven," she answered, quietly, "I think I will find pardon for that sin."
All manner of strange thoughts were contending for the supremacy of Robert's reason. Was that an aureole, strangely luminous, about her head, or only the wealth of her red hair? Was she, indeed, as brave as her brave phrases?
"I take you at your word," he said, more mildly. "Here is that which can set you free from all of us."
He drew the fool's dagger from his girdle and held it to her by its blade.
"Have you the heart to drive this home?" he asked.
"Ay, with all my heart, into my heart," she cried, with a confidence that he could not question. "You are the gentlest tyrant in the world, and I will pray for you in paradise." She pressed the weapon with both hands to her breast and bowed her head.
Robert felt certain that she would keep her word, yet the evil in him drove him to taunt her. "You do not strike," he said.