But if my son's is cold!——
Ulr.Who dare say that?
Sieg. None else but I, who see it—feel it—keener
Than would your adversary, who dared say so,
Your sabre in his heart! But mine survives
The wound.
Ulr.You err. My nature is not given
To outward fondling: how should it be so,330
After twelve years' divorcement from my parents?
Sieg. And did not I too pass those twelve torn years