ESTRILD.

ESTRILD.

But she, Being wise, exceeds me: yet, so she divide not Thine heart, my best-beloved of liars, with me, I care not—nor I will not care. Some part She hath had, it may be, of thy fond false heart— Nay, couldst thou choose? but now, though she be fairer, Let her take all or none: I will not be Partaker of her perfect sway, nor sharer With any on earth more dear or less to thee. Nay, be not wroth: what wilt thou have me say? That I can love thee less than she can? Nay, Thou knowest I will not ill to her; but she— Would she not burn my child and me with fire To wreak herself, who loved thee once, on thee?

LOCRINE.

LOCRINE.

Thy fear is darker, child, than her desire.

ESTRILD.

ESTRILD.

I fear not her at all: I would not fear The one thing fearful to me yet, who here Sit walled around with waters and with woods From all things fearful but the fear of change.

LOCRINE.

LOCRINE.

Fear thou not that: for nothing born eludes Time; and the joy were sorrowful and strange That should endure for ever. Yea, I think Such joy would pray for sorrow’s cup to drink, Such constancy desire an end, for mere Long weariness of watching. Thou and I Have all our will of life and loving here,— A heavenlier heaven on earth: but we shall die, And if we died not, love we might outlive As now shall love outlive us.

ESTRILD.

ESTRILD.

We?

LOCRINE.

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