or the "guests," and they come round and nag him (we should think that
the villain must grow to positively dislike the comic man before the
piece is over).

Notwithstanding all this he still hankers after her and swears she
shall be his. He is not a bad-looking fellow, and from what we know
of the market, we should say there are plenty of other girls who would
jump at him; yet for the sake of settling down with this dismal young
female as his wife, he is prepared to go through a laborious and
exhaustive course of crime and to be bullied and insulted by every one
he meets. His love sustains him under it all. He robs and forges,
and cheats, and lies, and murders, and arsons. If there were any
other crimes he could commit to win her affection, he would, for her
sweet sake, commit them cheerfully. But he doesn't know any
others--at all events, he is not well up in any others--and she still
does not care for him, and what is he to do?

It is very unfortunate for both of them. It is evident to the merest
spectator that the lady's life would be much happier if the villain
did not love her quite so much; and as for him, his career might be
calmer and less criminal but for his deep devotion to her.

You see, it is having met her in early life that is the cause of all
the trouble. He first saw her when she was a child, and he loved her,
"ay, even then." Ah, and he would have worked--slaved for her, and
have made her rich and happy. He might perhaps even have been a good
man.

She tries to soothe him. She says she loathed him with an unspeakable
horror from the first moment that her eyes met his revolting form.