Enter Almachildes and Hildegard. Almachildes Hildegard Whence come these, to bring Sunrise about me? Nay, I bade you be Here. Does thy memory too not fail thee, boy, Burnt out by stress of summer ALMACHILDES. ALMACHILDES. No. ALBOVINE. ALBOVINE. Nor hers? HILDEGARD. HILDEGARD. How might it, king? Thou art good to us. ALBOVINE. ALBOVINE. All things born Seem good to lovers in their spring of love, And all men should be. Maiden, God doth well To give us foresight of the sight of heaven By looking in such eyes as love like thine Kindles and veils for love’s sake. Fain was I To see my boy’s bride and her bridegroom here Before the feast broke in on us, and bless Their love with mine—if mine be blessing. HILDEGARD. HILDEGARD. Sire, As the earth gives thanks in spring for the April sun I would and cannot yield you thanks for this.
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