"Albano," said she, "why art thou to-day so altered, so sad, so tender?"
"Call me rather," said he, "by thy name, as lovers exchange names in Otaheite. Perhaps I have drunk a little, too; but I truly repent of yesterday, and I truly love thee anew. Ah, thou, dost thou, then, also love my very innermost self, Linda?"
"Sweet youth, can I then, now, choose but love thee eternally? I do, indeed, henceforth cleave to thee and thou to me."
"Ah, thou dost not know me. When does man know, then, that precisely he, this very I, is meant and loved? Only forms are embraced, only the fleshly covering is enfolded in the arms; who, then, clasps a person to a person? Perchance God."
"And I do thee," said Linda.
"O Linda, wilt thou still love me in my grave, when the chaff of life is flown away,—still love me in my hell, when I have deceived thee out of love to thee? Is love, then, love's justification?"
"I love thee always, so long as thou lovest me. Art thou the poison-flower; then am I the bee, and die on the sweet cup."
The bride sank on his neck. He clasped her passionately, and grew more and more like the glacier, which by very warmth rolls further onward, and in melting desolates. Around him danced the pleasures with heavenly faces, but showed him in their hands the masks of furies.
"Thou wilt die of love; I am already dead from love. O, thou knowest not how long ago I loved thee!" he answered.
"Glowing heart," said she, "think of this night when thou one day seest Idoine!" "Then shall I see only my risen sister," said he, but instantly trembled at the truth's having escaped his lips. "One sees," he added, hastily, "the risen Herculaneum, but one dwells overhead in the blooming Portici. Thou and I saw in Baja's gold, under the sea, the sunken arches and gates, and we sailed on farther toward living cities. Is even Roquairol, I pray, like me in so many things, and does he love thee so much, and has he loved thee so long, and died once, too, like Liana?"