ROSAMUND.

Enough are they to darken death and life.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

Thou art less than gentle towards his love and him.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

I would not speak ungently. Her I love, Poor child, and him I hate not.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

Thou shalt live To love him too.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

This heaviness of heat Kills love and hate and life in me. I know not Aught lovesome save the sweet brief death of sleep.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

I am weary as thou. Good night we may not say— Good noon I bid thee. Sleep shall heal us.

ROSAMUND.

ROSAMUND.

Ay; No healing and no help for life on earth Hath God or man found out save death and sleep.

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