But Æole, rallying, entreated, “Prince Pelasgus, I ask that thou wilt take away thine arms. Thou hast not had leave to place them thus. And hearken, I beseech thee.”
He withdrew his arms. “To good words will I hearken. Can aught else come from thee? Say but the yea, first, dear Æole. Then will I hearken the day long!”
“As if thou hadst not spoken words that bring me joy—in speaking as thou hast, in asking me for thy wife—words that would bring yea but for this.” Here she was obliged to repress his ardor, and with difficulty. “Thy father is the king. His will thou shouldst know I ask thee to wait until thou hast spoken with him.”
“Afterward will I speak with him. Where is thy yea?”
“Think—thou art the son of the king.”
“I do think of it. And now am I most honoring him! Ever hath my father said I should be free in my choice, his own happy life so bearing upon him. Further, such is the custom of the Pelasgians, high and low. They wed as did the people of the Golden Age. There is tender thought before all else. It is such thought in wedlock that causeth their sun to shine on happy days, their moon and stars to light sweet nights of rest. Ah, our Pelasgia is the land of lands! And Heaven, after Atlantis!—But, thou tremblest, Æole. Wrong am I to name that island. Rather will I speak of the feeling my father hath for thine. None doth he honor as Deucalion! Then is thy doubt gone. There is no other?”
“Prince Pelasgus, that was my one doubt.”
He drew her to him, and neither spoke for a little. Then he said:
“Æole, I went to Atlantis, out of the feeling I bore thy father. Little thought I that it could hold the one of all the world for me! But, at the moment of first beholding thee, there was such a springing up of strong, fond wish for thee that I became stricken with fear that such might be for naught, that thou wouldst feel for me but pity, because of my looks and state. Ah, what I bore! Tell me, dear Æole, that thou didst not feel thus.”
“Sensel, from the first was I drawn to thee, and often did I wonder over my feelings. But when thou didst bear me from the temple to the chariot of the queen, then I knew—knew how dear wert thou. And how hath it grown. Should we be parted, life would be more than an Atlantis of sorrow!”