Her will it was, I know, not thine. I would Thou hadst not yielded up to hers thy will.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

Thou liest: I have not yielded it: I have given Love, willing as the springtide sea gives up Her will to the eastern sea-wind’s.

NARSETES.

NARSETES.

Love should give No more than love should crave of love: and this Is such a gift as hate might crave of death Or priests of God when angered.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

Hark thee, man. Thou art old, and when I loved thee first and found thee My lord and leader down the ways of war, My master born by right of manfulness And steersman through the surf of battle, time Gaped as a gulf between us: sire and son We might be: now I bid thee hold thy peace, Lest all these memories perish, and their death Give life more strong than theirs to wrath, and leave thee Shelterless as a waif of the air when storm Drives bird and beast to deathward. What I bade thee I bid thee do, and leave me.

NARSETES.

NARSETES.

King, I go.

[Exit.

ALBOVINE.

ALBOVINE.

What, have I played the Berserk with my friend? So should not kings. What meant he? Men wax old, And age eats out the natural sense of love Which gives the soul sight of such nobler things As trust may see by grace of truth more fair Than doubt would fear to dream of. Rosamund Knows more by might of faith and love than he. And yet I would, and yet I would not, fool As even in mine own eyes I am, she had not Given me this proof, desired of me this sign, How clear her soul is toward me save of love, To attest her pardon of me. Would it were Sunrise to-morrow!

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