Hugo, I cannot bear this one!"

And she fell to sobbing and grovelling about my
feet, and still imploring. Imploring what? The man's
death? I could not quite get the bearings of the thing.
But Hugo interrupted her and said:

"Peace! Ye wit not what ye ask. Shall I starve
whom I love, to win a gentle death? I wend thou
knewest me better."

"Well," I said, "I can't quite make this out. It
is a puzzle. Now --"

"Ah, dear my lord, an ye will but persuade him!