GENEVIVA.

So many favours!

MARCOMIR.

But you kissed his brows—
What need was there of that?

GENEVIVA.

You love me then,
You love me! Would you murder him again
If I again should touch him with my breath?

MARCOMIR.

Again, again.

GENEVIVA.

And Carloman complains
I am indifferent to him!