"I have already wounded you, and you quickly make it plain that I labored under an illusion when I hoped for your affection. And yet I am so completely your slave, that I beg of you not to refuse your sympathy to a passion which glows so warmly within me, that it has at this moment entirely deprived me of my self-control."
Ilse gasped:
"I must away from here."
"Renounce that idea," cried the Sovereign, beside himself. "I cannot be deprived of your presence or of the sound of your voice. However slightly it may gladden me, it is the happiness of my days--the one great feeling in a life without pleasure or love. The knowledge that you are near me maintains me in my struggle against thoughts that stupefy me in gloomy hours. Like the devout pilgrim who listens to the bell of the hermitage, I listen to the slightest chord that vibrates from your life into mine. Consent to accept the devotion of a lonely man," he continued, more tranquilly. "I vow never more to wound your delicate feelings. I vow to be contented with that share of your life which you will freely give me."
"I repent of every word that I have spoken to your Highness, and I repent of every hour in which I have thought with reverence of you," exclaimed Ilse, with kindling anger. "I was a poor trusting child," she continued, excitedly. "I bowed submissively to my Sovereign before I saw him as he is; now that I know him, he excites abhorrence in me, and I gather up my garment and say. Monster, begone from me!"
The Sovereign fell back in his chair.
"It is an old curse that echoes in my ears from these walls; it is not your own heart that drives me from you. From your lips should only come words of love and compassion. I am not a tempter, I am myself a wanderer in the wilderness, with nothing about me but desert sand and towering rocks. I hear the laughter of children; I see the fair-haired group passing by me; I see two eyes fixed on me with kindly greeting, and a hand, with the filled cup, which beckons to the weary one; and, like a vision of mist, it has all disappeared. I remain alone, and I sink to my destruction."
He closed his hands over his eyes. Ilse did not reply. She stood, turned from him, looking through the window at the clouds which flitted across the heaven.
All was quiet in the room. Nothing moved, and no one spoke. At last the Sovereign rose slowly: he approached Ilse. There was a glassy look in his eye, and he moved with effort.
"If I have wounded you by what I have said in a moment of overwhelming passion, forget it. I have proved to you that I am not yet free from the weakness that hopes to gain a heart which would beat in unison with mine. Remember only that I am an erring one who sought comfort from you. It was an humiliating request: if you cannot respond to it, do not be angry with the wretched one who asks."