LOCRINE.

None—should thy child cast love and shame away.

GUENDOLEN.

GUENDOLEN.

Most duteous wast thou to thy sire—and mine.

LOCRINE.

LOCRINE.

Yea, truly—when their bidding sealed me thine.

GUENDOLEN.

GUENDOLEN.

Thy smile is as a flame that plays and flits.

LOCRINE.

LOCRINE.

Yet at my heart thou knowest what fire there sits.

GUENDOLEN.

GUENDOLEN.

Not love’s—not love’s—toward me love burns not there.

LOCRINE.

LOCRINE.

What wouldst thou have me search therein and swear?

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