Julian
(speaking low and in pain).
And so I did.
Lilia
(hopefully, and looking up).
Then you've had dispensation?
Julian.
God has absolved me, though the Church will not.
He knows it was in ignorance I did it.
Rather would he have men to do his will,
Than keep a weight of words upon their souls,
Which they laid there, not graven by his finger.
The vow was made to him—to him I break it.
Lilia
(weeping bitterly).
I would … your words were true … but I do know …
It never can … be right to break a vow;
If so, men might be liars every day;
You'd do the same by me, if we were married.
Julian
(in anguish).
'Tis ever so. Words are the living things!
There is no spirit—save what's born of words!
Words are the bonds that of two souls make one!
Words the security of heart to heart!
God, make me patient! God, I pray thee, God!
Lilia
(not heeding him).
Besides, we dare not; you would find the dungeon
Gave late repentance; I should weep away
My life within a convent.
Julian.
Come to England,
To England, Lilia.
Lilia.
Men would point, and say:
There go the monk and his wife; if they, in truth,
Called me not by a harder name than that.
Julian.
There are no monks in England.
Lilia.
But will that
Make right what's wrong?