Soph. Yours?
Vasil. Yes. You have sold yourself to me.
Soph. I have?
Vasil. By doing me a favor—the most binding of bargains. As long as you live your thoughts will come back to me. Could you forget me, princess?
Soph. No, Vasil. But you must not care so much.
Vasil. Don't you like me to care?
Soph. Yes, but——
Vasil. Then I will. O, it is glorious to dream and know why! To sing and know to whom the song belongs!
Soph. My boy, make your country your goddess, not a woman.