ANATHEMA.
You said it, but I dare not come up to you.
GUARDIAN.
Come.
ANATHEMA.
I am afraid.
He advances toward the Guardian irresolutely, in zigzag movements; lies down on his belly and crawls, wailing with longing and fear.
Oh, I the prince of darkness, wise and powerful, and yet you see—I am crawling on my belly like a dog. And I am doing it because I love you, I want to kiss the hem of your cloak. But why does my old heart ache so much? Tell me, Omniscient.
GUARDIAN.
The accursed one has no heart.