HILDEGARD.

Nay, if I Forgive her love of thee—though this be hard, Canst thou forgive not?

ALMACHILDES.

ALMACHILDES.

Sweet, for thee and me Remains no rescue save by death or flight From worse than flight or death is.

HILDEGARD.

HILDEGARD.

Worse is nought But shame: and how may shame take hold on us, On us who have sinned not? Me she bound to play thee False, and betray thee to her arms: I might not Choose, though my heart should rend itself in twain And cleave with ravenous anguish: yet I live. Vex not thy soul too sorely: me, not her, Thy spirit embraced, thine arms and lips made thine Me, not my darkling wraith, my changeling foe, My thief of love, our traitress. This I bid thee, Forget thy fear and shame to have wronged me: night Breeds treacherous dreams that can but poison day If thought be found so base a fool as dares Fear. Did I doubt thy love of me, I durst not Live or look back upon thee.

ALMACHILDES.

ALMACHILDES.

Wilt thou then Fly?

HILDEGARD.

HILDEGARD.

Dost thou know what flight means—thou? It means Fear. And is fear a new-born friend of thine?

ALMACHILDES.

ALMACHILDES.

God help us! if he live, and hate not man— If Satan be not God. We will not fly.

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