“I am not speaking for myself. I am an unhappy, suffering being, a defenceless prey to human passion. I love you, and I yield to this my love, even if it is to cost me my life. It is for you that I speak. I am a fatal woman: I shall bring misfortune upon you.”
“So be it. I love you.”
“This love is madness, Andrea.”
“So be it. I will have it so.”
“You are binding yourself for life, Andrea.”
“Oh! Lucia; tell me that you love me.”
She moved towards the shore, and spread her arms as if in invocation:
“Oh! distant sky, oh! passing clouds, oh! trees that crowd together to mirror yourselves in the lake, bear witness that I have told him the truth. Oh! sorrowing willow, oh! still waters, oh! reeds and lilies, you have heard my words. Oh! Mother, Venus, Goddess, I have read the future for him. Thou Nature, who liest not, bear witness that I have not lied. ’Tis he will have it so.”
“How divine you are, joy of my life!”
She turned, and throwing her arms round his neck, gave him kiss for kiss. Then, as if everything were irrevocably settled, she calmly picked up her things.