"Are you going to sleep?" asked Ricardo again.
"I have told you once that I don't care to go to sleep.... I am so happy to be awake!... He who sleeps doesn't suffer, but neither does he enjoy.... It is good to sleep only when one has sweet dreams, and I almost never have them.... Look, Ricardo; it seems to me now that I am asleep and dreaming.... You look so strange to me! I see the sky below, and the sea above; your head is bathed in a blue mist; ... when you move, it seems as though the vault covering us swung to and fro; when you speak, your voice seems to come out of the depths of the sea.... Don't shut your eyes, for pity's sake! how it makes me suffer! I imagine that you are dead, and have left me here alone. Don't you see how wide open mine are! Never did I want less to sleep than now.... Hark! put down your face a little nearer; should you suffer much, if the sea were to rise slowly, and finally cover us up?"
Ricardo trembled a little; he cast a look about him, and saw that the water was ready to cut off the isthmus uniting them to the shore.
"Come, we are almost surrounded by water already."
"Wait just a little ... I have something to tell you.... I am going to whisper it very low, so that no one shall hear it ... no one but you.... Ricardo, I should be glad if the sea would come up now, and bury us forever.... Thus we should be eternally in the depths of the water; you sitting, and I with my head on your lap, with eyes wide open.... Then,—yes, I would dream at my ease; and you would watch my sleep, would you not? The waves would pass over our heads, and would come to tell us what is going on in the world.... Those white and purple fishes, which sailors catch with hooks, would come noiselessly to visit us, and would let us smooth their silver scales with our hands. The seaweed would entwine at our feet, making soft cushions; and when the sun rose, we should see him through the glassy water, larger and more beautiful, filtering his thousand-colored beams through it, and dazzling us with his splendor!... Tell me, doesn't it tempt you?... doesn't it tempt you?"
"Be quiet, Martita; you are delirious ... Come along, the tide is rising."
"Wait a moment ... We have been here an hour, and the wind hasn't cooled my cheeks ... they are hotter than ever.... No matter ... I am comfortable.... Do you want to do me a favor?... Listen! I must ask your forgiveness ..."
"What for?"
"For the scare I gave you the other day. Do you remember when we were making a nosegay together in the garden?... You wanted to kiss my hand, and I was so stupid that I took it in bad part, and began to cry.... How surprised and disgusted you must have been!... I confess that I am a goose,[48] and don't deserve to have any one love me.... However, you may believe me that I was not offended with you.... I wept from sentiment ... without knowing why.... What reason had I to weep? You did not want to do any harm ... all you wanted was to kiss my hands; isn't that so?"
"That was all, my beauty!"