Amaury. Yolanda?
Renier. She is silent;
Dumb to deny it.
Amaury. But she will, she will.
You've driven her with dread and awe.
Vittia (lightly). And truth?
Amaury. Have wounded her. But do not fear, Yolanda,
Fiercely disown.
Yolanda. Amaury ... it is true.
(He staggers slowly back.)
No, no; I have not been faithless to you—
Even a moment
To the divinity of love high-altared
Here in my breast! to the immutable
Beauty of it!... look, look not on me so—
As I had struck, murdered a little child!
Or palsied one who put a hand to help me;
Or through eternity had desecrated,
Vainly, virginity and trust and truth!
No, my Amaury! I ... do you not see?
(Hysterically.)
Not faithless, hear! it is not true! not true!
But only this——