body, without any distinct idea existing in his mind; but when the whole sad reality rushed upon him, he could not endure his own thoughts, and darted away with the velocity of lightning. The duke heeded not his departure; he had thrown himself upon the body of his departed friend, and the whole universe seemed to contain for him only that bloody corpse. "I have killed him! I have killed him!" cried he, "I have killed him!"
His fearful shrieks soon drew many persons to the spot. "I have killed him!" screamed the duke, in answer to all interrogations; "I have killed him!" Abelard was one of the first collected round this mournful spectacle. "What can we do?" said he to Father Murphy,—"the case seems desperate."
"I've killed him!" again screamed the duke in agony.
"He's entirely mad," said Father Murphy, "and there's no doubt of it."
"I've killed him!" repeated the duke, with a still more piercing shriek; "I've killed him!"
"Oh he is mad," cried all the spectators, whilst they attempted to remove him from the
