She. Because this thing has frozen up my heart.
I think that there is something killed in me,
A dream that would have mocked all other bliss.
What shall I say? What would you have me say?
He. If it be possible, the word of words!
She (very slowly). Well, then—I love you. I may tell you so
This once, ... and then forever hold my peace.
We cannot stay here longer unobserved.
No—do not touch me! but stand further off, and
Seem to laugh, as if we jested—eyes,