“Nicæus,” said Iduna, “this continued recurrence to a forbidden subject is most ungenerous.”
“Alas! Iduna, my life depends upon a word, which you will not speak, and you talk of generosity. No! Iduna, it is not I that I am ungenerous.”
“Let me say then unreasonable, Prince Nicæus.”
“Say what you like, Iduna, provided you say that you are mine.”
“Pardon me, sir, I am free.”
“Free! You have ever underrated me, Iduna. To whom do you owe this boasted freedom?”
“This is not the first time,” remarked Iduna, “that you have reminded me of an obligation, the memory of which is indelibly impressed upon my heart, and for which even the present conversation cannot make me feel less grateful. I can never forget that I owe all that is dear to yourself and your companion.”
“My companion!” replied the Prince of Athens, pale and passionate. “My companion! Am I ever to be reminded of my companion?”
“Nicæus!” said Iduna; “if you forget what is due to me, at least endeavour to remember what is due to yourself?”
“Beautiful being!” said the prince, advancing and passionately seizing her hand; “pardon me! pardon me! I am not master of my reason; I am nothing, I am nothing while Iduna hesitates!”