Give me thy being once again, thy beauty.
For it I'm mad as bacchanals for wine.
[Yolanda, entering on the balcony, hears, and would retreat, but sees Renier come to the grating.
Once more be to me all that woman may!
Let us again take rapture wings and rise
Up to our world of love, guilt would unsphere.
Let us live over days that passed as streams
Limpid by lotus-banks unto the sea,
O'er all the whispered nights that we have clasped
Knowing the heights and all the deeps of passion!
But speak, and we shall be amid the stars.
[Renier draws a dagger and leaves the grating. With a low cry Yolanda staggers down: the Two rise, fearful.
Berengere. Yolanda!
Yolanda. Mother, mother!... Ah, his eyes!
Berengere. What brings you here—to spy upon me?
Yolanda. Listen!...
Think not of me—no, hush—but of the peril
Arisen up.... Your husband!
Camarin. Renier?
Yolanda. Was at that grating—heard. And from its sheath
Drew forth a dagger!—Ah!