Why shouldst thou tremble? Art thou not mine own?
RUAHMAH: [Turning to him.]
Surely I am! But take me, take me now!
For I belong to thee in body and soul;
The very pulses of my heart are thine.
Wilt thou not feel how tenderly they beat?
Wilt thou not lie like myrrh between my breasts
And satisfy thy lonely lips with love?
Thou art opprest, and I would comfort thee
While yet thy sorrow weighs upon thy life.