But who is this
Strange, beautiful, wild woman?
Oh, how delicious
Her arms, her bosom! Through the sodden hair,
Trailing the ground, what glitter, and how clean
This naked shoulder lies against the floor.
Why, this is Sleep itself!
[He comes close.]
O Geneviva,
So you too have learnt freedom, and are grown
How marvellous in beauty!—Marcomir!—
[Marcomir stands at the door.]
He must not see her drunken and so flushed;
He shall not.
[moving quickly to the door.]
I am looking every moment
For Pepin; do not enter.
[Marcomir turns and goes out.]
Oh, my shame,
If she should open her gray eyes on me,
And find me frocked and tonsured ... for the sun
Strikes sheer across her face.
[He bends over her; she wakes, looks up, laughs in his face, and then speaks.]