So be it, then. (She drinks and shakes with laughter.) Ugh! That hath a bad taste.
Teja.
Give it to me. (He drinks.) Nay! (He drinks again.) Go!... Art thou then such a despiser of nourishment?... Yea, who art thou then? And how comest thou hither? And just what wilt thou of me?
Balthilda.
I will love thee!
Teja.
Thou--my wife! Thou ... (They fly into one another's arms. Softly.) And wilt thou not kiss me?
(Balthilda shakes her head, ashamed.)
Teja.
Why not?