name is tainted, and my tongue Tastes poison as I speak it. There is nought Left in the range and record of the world For me that is not poisoned: even my heart Is all envenomed in me. Death is life, Or priesthood lies that swears it: then I give The man my husband and thy homicide Life, if I slay him—the life he gave thee.

Enter Hildegard.

Hildegard

Girl, I sent for thee, I think: stand near me. Child, Thou art fairer than thou knowest, I doubt: thou art fair As the awless maidenhood of morning: truth Should live upon thy lips, though truth were dead On all men’s tongues and women’s born save thine. Dawn lies not when it laughs on us. Thy queen I am not now: thy friend I would be. Tell Thy friend if love sleep or awake in thee Toward any man. Thou art silent. Tell me this, Dost thou not think, where thought scarce knows itself— Think in the subtle sense too deep for thought— That Almachildes loves thee?

HILDEGARD.

HILDEGARD.

More than I Love Almachildes.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

Thus a maid should speak. Dost thou love me?

HILDEGARD.

HILDEGARD.

Thou knowest it, queen.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

It lies Now in thy power to show me more of love Than ever yet hath man or woman. Swear, If thou dost love me, thou wilt show it.

HILDEGARD.

HILDEGARD.

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